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THE  HUMAN  INTELLECT,     i  vol.  8vo.    .        .  $5  oo 

ELEMENTS  OF  INTELLECTUAL  SCIENCE,     i  vol. 

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AMERICAN    COLLEGES    AND   THE    AMERICAN 
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THE 


HUMAN    INTELLECT; 


WITH   AN  INTEODUOTION  UPON 


PSYCHOLOGY  AND  THE  SOUL. 


NOAH    PORTER,    D.  D., 
ii 

PROFESSOR   OF   MORAL    PHILOSOPHY   AND    METAPHYSICS    IN    YAL3    COLLKUL 


NEW  YORK: 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS, 

1886. 


EVTXBED  according  to  Act  of  Ckmgress,  in  the  year  1808,  by 

CHABLES    SCRIBNER  &  CO., 

3*  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Southern  District  of 

New  York. 


TROW'S 

PRINTING  AND  BOOKBINDING  COMPANY, 
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NEW    YORK. 


TO 

DB     ADOLF    THEN  DELENBURG, 

OF  BEELDT, 

IK   THE  UNIVERSITY,  AND   SECRETARY   OF    THB   ROYAL  ACADEMY,  iTCM 

THIS    VOLUME    IS    INSCRIBED, 


BE8PEOT  AND  AFFEOTIOH 


f  (t  |tti|w. 


PREFACE. 


THE  work  now  offered  to  the  public  was  prepared  primarily  and 
directly  as  a  text-book  for  colleges  and  higher  schools.  It  was  also 
designed  secondarily,  thongh  not  less  really,  as  a  manual  for  more 
advanced  students  of  psychology  and  speculative  philosophy.  It  was 
hoped,  also,  that  it  might  find  a  place  in  the  libraries  of  some  of  the 
many  readers  and  thinkers  who  wish  to  form  clear  and  well-grounded 
opinions  in  respect  to  the  nature  and  limits  of  human  knowledge,  and 
to  read  with  intelligence  and  satisfaction  the  history  of  philosophy. 

The  designs  of  the  author  in  preparing  the  volume  Liay  serve  in 
part  to  explain  the  selection  and  arrangement  of  the  matter  of  which 
it  consists,  and  to  give  greater  force  to  a  few  suggestions  in  respect 
to  its  use  as  a  text-book. 

1.  The  more  important  definitions,  propositions,  and  arguments 
are  printed  in  the  largest  type,  in  distinct  paragraphs,  and  the 
paragraphs  are  grouped,  according  to  the  principal  topics,  in  sepa- 
rately numbered  sections.  The  matter  in  this  type  is  somewhat 
technically  phrased  and  formally  propounded,  in  order  that  it  may 
be  learned  more  readily  for  the  examinations  of  the  class-room. 
At  the  same  time  the  aspect  of  too  great  technical  formality  has 
been  studiously  avoided  by  a  free  expansion,  in  somewhat  varied 
phraseology,  of  the  leading  doctrines  and  definitions  of  the  work 
While  the  author  has  desired  to  avail  himself  fully  of  all  the  advan- 
tages which  accrue  from  formal  definitions  and  technical  terms,  he 
has  not  hesitated  to  repeat  and  illustrate  his  opinions  in  language 
somewhat  popiilar  in  its  character,  and  with  a  less  rigid  adherence 
to  scholastic  or  precise  teririnology. 


VI  PKEFACE. 

2.  The  matter  which  is  properly  explanatory  and  illustrative  of 
the  leading  propositions  is  printed  in   smaller  type.     This  occupies 
a  large  portion  of  the  volume,  and  will  be  the  most  interesting  to 
the  student  and  the  general  reader.     In  this  part  of  the  work  the 
author  has   used   copious  illustrations  wherever  they  were  needed 
to  render  clear  what  might  otherwise  have  been  obscure,  concrete 
what  might  have  been   abstract,  practical  what  was  in  danger  of 
being   scholastic,  and  familiar  that  which  required  to  be  repeated. 
Philosophical  treatises  and  text-books  fail  very  often  of  being  perused 
with  interest  and  profit  for  lack  of  concrete  illustrations  and  varied 
and  familiar  applications ;  and  against  these  defects  the  author  hag 
sought  to  guard  this  treatise.     He  has  no  fear  that  it  will  not  be  con- 
sidered sufficiently  abstruse  and  scientific.     In  preparing  this  part  of 
the  work  he  has  sought  to  meet  the  wants  of  both  elementary  and  ad- 
vanced students,  and  trusts  that  he  has  not  entirely  failed  of  success. 

3.  The  historical,  critical,  and  controversial  matter  is  printed  in 
the  smallest  type,  in  which  will   be   found  most   of  that  which   is 
especially  abstruse  and  metaphysical.      This  part  of  the  volume  is 
designed  for  a  smaller  and  more  select  class  of  students  and  readers. 
The  insertion  of  matter  of  this  kind  was  absolutely  essential  to  the 
usefulness  of  the  work  for  the  library,  and  was  almost  equally  required 
for  its  authority  as  a  text-book  with  the  higher  classes  of  students. 
There  is  at  present  so  lively  an  interest  in  the  history  and  criticism 
3f  speculative  opinions,  and  so  great  activity  in  the  scrutiny  of  those 
principles  which  are  fundamental  to  physical,  ethical,  and  theological 
science,  that  the  author  felt  compelled  to  introduce  this  critical  and 
historical  matter  in  order  to  indicate  the  higher  relations  of  elementary 
truths,  ate  Well  as  to  guide  the  student  in  his  reading  of  more  extended 
works  in  the  history  and  criticism  of  philosophical  systems.     He  is 
aware  that  his  own  sketches  and  criticisms  are  somewhat  condensed 
and  abstract,  but  is  sanguine  in  the  opinion  that  some  of  them  will 
not  be  without  value  as   an  aid   in  the  use  of  more  elaborate  and 
minute  histories  of  philosophy. 

It  would  have  been  comparatively  easy  to  prepare  a  manual 
embodying  the  principles  of  psychological  science,  with  little  or 
no  illustration  or  criticism ;  but  a  compendious  manual  of  this  kind 


PREFACE.  Vll 


must  either  be  so  abstractly  dry  as  to  be  unintelligible ;  or  so  super* 
ficial  as  not  to  command  the  respect  of  the  learner  and  reader ;  ox 
so  imaginative  as  to  fail  to  inspire  confidence.  The  applications 
of  metaphysical  philosophy  must  be  familiarized  to  the  mind  bj 
ample  illustrations  and  frequent  repetition,  in  order  that  the  meaning 
and  importance  of  the  principles  themselves  may  be  understood  and 
appreciated. 

The  following  suggestions  in  respect  to  the  use  of  the  volume  as  a 
text-book  may  not  be  unacceptable.  The  matter  in  the  largest  type 
ought,  in  general,  to  regulate  the  length  of  the  lessons.  The  examin- 
ations upon  this  should  invariably  be  minute  and  severe.  The 
explanatory  and  illustrative  matter  may  be  enforced  more  or  less 
rigidly,  or  not  at  all,  according  to  the  interest  and  capacity  of  the 
student,  and  the  methods  and  aims  of  the  instructor.  The  less  capable 
and  less  ambitious  student  may  perhaps  be  held  to  the  leading  propo- 
sitions, and  to  a  very  general  acquaintance  with  the  explanatory  and 
illustrative  matter.  The  more  gifted  and  aspiring  may  be  encouraged 
to  master  as  much  of  this,  and  as  thoroughly,  as  he  is  disposed,  and 
may  be  ranked  and  rewarded  accordingly.  Such  of  the  discussions 
as  might  be  more  intelligibly  and  profitably  studied  on  a  second 
perusal,  may  be  reserved  for  the  review.  The  historical  and  critical 
notes  may  be  used  as  topics  and  guides  for  more  minute  researches 
and  more  exact  criticisms,  in  written  essays,  by  students  and  readers 
still  more  advanced.  The  volume  is  capable  of  being  used  in  the 
various  methods  which  have  been  indicated,  and  allows  liberal  oppor- 
tunities for  the  skill  and  invention  of  the  teacher.  The  marginal  or 
side-notes  are  designed  for  the  convenience  of  both  pupils  and  teachers, 
and  are  reprinted  in  the  synoptical  table  of  contents. 

The  philosophy  taught  in  this  volume  is  pronounced  and  posi- 
tive in  the  spiritual  and  theistic  direction,  as  contrasted  with  the 
mat'  ialistic  and  anti-theistic  tendency  which  is  so  earnestly  de- 
fended by  its  advocates  as  alone  worthy  to  be  called  scientific, 
The  author,  though  earnest  in  his  own  opinions,  has  aimed  to  adhere 
most  rigidly  to  the  methods  of  true  science,  and  to  employ  no  argu- 
ments which  he  did  not  believe  would  endure  the  severest  scrutiny 


9111  PREFACE. 

While  his  criticisms  of  opposing  systems  may  seem  to  be  polemical,  h« 
trusts  they  are  not  open  to  the  charge  of  being  unjust  or  unscientific. 

It  is  with  some  diffidence  that  the  author  brings  to  the  tribunal 
of  public  criticism  the  results  of  his  solitary  and  almost  unaided 
studies.  Studies  of  this  kind  must,  from  their  very  nature,  be  prose- 
cuted in  a  lonely  way,  and  with  the  disadvantage  of  being  often 
subjected  to  a  superficial  or  partisan  criticism.  The  publication 
of  their  results  almost  necessarily  involves  a  critical,  and  often  a 
controversial  judgment  of  the  opinions  of  others.  As  a  writer  upon 
Buch  subjects  cannot,  if  he  would,  avoid  criticising  others,  so  he  ought 
not  himself  to  expect  or  desire  to  be  exempt  from  the  severest 
ordeal  of  criticism,  provided  his  own  opinions  are  fairly  and  fully 
stated,  and  the  counter  opinions  are  thoroughly  reasoned.  The 
author  has  been  tempted  to  delay  the  publication  of  his  own  opinions 
by  the  desire  to  mature  them  into  a  more  complete  philosophical 
system ;  but  he  did  not  think  it  right  to  do  this  for  an  indefinite 
period,  especially  at  a  time  when  the  need  of  a  comprehensive  manual 
for  higher  instruction  has  been  very  extensively  acknowledged,  and 
when  there  is  inculcated,  in  forms  that  are  varied  and  imposing,  a 
psychology  that  seems  to  him  at  once  to  be  pretentious  and  superficial, 
and  to  involve  a  philosophy  that  is  either  defective  or  erroneous. 

The  author  expects,  if  he  continues  to  labor  in  the  field  of  his 
chosen  studies,  to  be  able  himself  to  detect  some  of  the  inadvertencies 
and  errors  into  which  he  may  have  fallen.  Should  he  be  aided  in 
doing  this  by  the  labors  of  friendly  or  unfriendly  critics,  he  hopes  to 
remember  the  words  of  the  acute  and  excellent  Berkeley :  "  Truth  is 
the  cry  of  all,  but  the  game  of  a  few.  Certainly,  when  it  is  the  chief 
passion,  it  doth  not  give  way  to  vulgar  cares  and  views ;  nor  is  it  con- 
tented with  a  little  ardor  in  the  early  time  of  life  ;  active,  perhaps,  to 
pursue,  but  not  so  fit  to  weigh  and  consider.  He  that  would  make  a 
real  progress  in  knowledge  must  dedicate  his  age  as  well  as  youth ; 
the  later  growth  as  well  as  first-fruits1,  at  the  altar  of  Truth.  '  Cujiis* 
vis  est  errare,  nuUius  nisi  insipientis  in  err  ore  per  sever  are.'  " 

NO  AH   POETER 

YALB  COLLEGE,  October,  1868. 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


PSYCHOLOGY    AND    THE    SOUL. 

I, — PSYCHOLOGY  DEFINED  AND  VINDICATED.        .        .        .        .        .6 

§1.  Psychology  and  kindred  terms.  §  2.  Psychology  a  science — Limited  to  the  human  sonl. 
1 3.  Relations  to  physiology  and  anthropology.  §  4.  Phenomena  known  by  consciousness.  8  5. 
Its  phenomena  impel  to  scientific  study— Are  legitimate  objects  of  science— Prejudices  against 
psychology  and  metaphysics.  §6.  Value  of  psychology.  It  requires  and  promotes  self-know- 
ledge—Trains  to  self-control.  §7.  Trains  to  the  knowledge  of  human  nature.  §8.  Is  indispen- 
sable to  educators—Variety  of  Educators.  §  9.  It  aids  in  moral  culture.  §10.  Disciplines  for 
the  study  of  literature — Is  not  unfavorable  to  creative  power.  §  11.  Disciplines  to  moral  reflec- 
tion. §  12.  Psychology  the  mother  of  the  sciences  which  relate  to  man — Its  relation  to  ethics — 
To  political  and  social  science — To  law — To  aesthetics — To  theology.  §  13.  Special  relation  to 
logic  and  metaphysics — Relation  of  logic  to  metaphysics — Psychology  subject  to,  yet  before  logic 
and  metaphysics— Why  psychology  is  so  often  called  philosophy.  §  14.  A  discipline  to  method. 

II. — THE  RELATIONS  OP  THE  SOUL  TO  MATTER 16 

§  15.  Psychology  a  branch  of  physics ;  in  what  sense.  §  16.  Why,  then,  are  its  facts  at  first 
distrusted  by  the  philosopher  ?  §  17.  Material  phenomena  are  the  earliest  known.  §  18.  Materi- 
alistic misgivings  and  impressions.  §  19.  These  should  be  disproved  ;  in  what  way.  §  20.  The 
arguments  of  the  materialist ;  the  soul  is  connected  with  a  body — The  soul  is  developed  with  the 
body— Is  dependent  on  the  body  for  its  knowledge  and  enjoyment — Also  for  its  energy  and 
activity— It  terminates  a  series  of  material  existences — Conclusion  of  the  materialist.  §21.  Coun- 
ter arguments.  Its  phenomena  unlike  material  phenomena — The  soul  distinguishes  itself  from 
matter — The  soul  is  self-active — Is  not  dependent  on  matter  in  its  highest  activities — Grada- 
tions of  existence  do  not  prove  it  to  be  material — §  22.  The  phenomena  of  the  soul  real,  f  23. 
Phenomena  of  one  sort  cannot  be  judged  by  those  of  another.  -§24.  The  phenomena  and  lan- 
guage in  which  they  are  described.  §  25.  Misleading  influence  of  language. 

THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  LIFE  AND  LIVING  BEINGS. — 1.    Life  and  living 
Icings.        .          . -29 

§  25.  Reasons  for  discussing  the  subject  further — Terms  defined  and  question  stated- 
Opinions  of  the  ancient  philosophers— Opinions  of  the  moderns — Various  appellations  for  vital 
force— Life  originates  only  from  a  living  being — The  process  of  nutrition  and  growth  peculiar 
— Growth  proceeds  after  a  plan — Matter  changes,  but  form  is  preserved— Life  admits  repair — 
Opposite  views  stated  and  defined — Carpenter's  illustration  and  argument — Two  other  expedients 
resorted  to — Not  enough  that  they  are  possible — Supposed  special  conditions— Organization  re- 
sorted to— Also  creative  power — Vital  force  admits  of  decay — No  objection  that  it  is  individual. 

2.  Relations  of  the  Soul  to  Life 30 

History  of  opinions— Vital  phenomena  precede  the  psychical— The  energy  of  the  two  proper- 
cm  aal — Sometimes  'rversely  ? — The  conscious  depend  on  unconscious  activities — The  soul  acta  OB 


X  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

matter— The  soul  adapted  to  the  body— The  body  is  moulded  by  the  soul— The  body  manifests  1h| 
soul— Objections ;  the  two  cannot  be  related— But  they  are  related— Animals  and  plants  must 
have  souls— Inconsistent  with  the  soul's  irimortality — Consciousness  testifies  to  the  opposite. 

III. — THE  FACULTIES   or   THE   SOUL.        .        •        .        * 

§  26.  Question  concerning  the  faculties.  §  27.  Faculties  not  parts  or  organs— Faculties  often 
misconceived— Each  faculty  does  not  act  at  a  separate  time.  §  28.  States  of  the  soul  like  and 
unlike  one  another — Elements  like  and  unlike  in  quality— Dependent  on  one  another — One  ele- 
ment preponderant  in  each  state— Elements  as  related  to  agent,  act,  and  object.  §  29.  Faculty 
denned  ;  general  authority— Special  authority.  §  30.  Thes9  faculties  common  to  all  men— But 
not  in  the  same  proportion.  §  31.  The  faculties  not  independent  of  one  another.  §  32.  Rela- 
tion of  faculties  in  education.  §33.  Illustrates  the  unity  of  the  soul — Unity:  mechanical,  che- 
mical, organic — Psychical  unity  is  higher.  §  34.  Unity  does  not  exclude  complexness.  §  35. 
Powers  of  the  soul  threefold— History  of  the  division  into  faculties— Modern  opponents  of  facul- 
ties. §  36.  Power,  faculty,  capacity.  §  37.  Function,  state,  phenomenon. 

IV. — Is  PSYCHOLOGY  A  SCIENCE  ? — Can  there  be  a  Science  of  the  Human 
Soul?  and  what  are  its  Principles  and  Methods  ?      .     .       51 

§  38.  Materials  of  Psychology ;  and  inductive  science — Is  also  the  science  of  induction.  §  39 
Psychology  too  vague ;  not  mathematical — Reply  :  would  render  a  science  of  life  impossible. 
§  40.  Views  of  materialists.  §  41.  The  cerebralists'  theory — Their  theory  refuted — They  suppose 
consciousness.  §  42.  The  phrenological  theory — In  what  sense  is  the  brain  the  soul's  organ. 
§  43.  The  Associationalist  theory — Explanation  of  necessary  truths — Error  of  the  associationalista 
— Usually  materialistic — Theory  of  Herbart.  §  44.  Metaphysical  or  a  priori  Psychology.  §  45. 
Psychology  of  the  German  schools. 


THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT. 

ITS  FUNCTION,  DEVELOPMENT,  AND  FACULTIES.        ....      61 
A  PEELIMINAEY  CHAPTEE. 

§46.  Knowledge  defined;  what  is  it  to  know!' — To  know  is  an  active  operation — Exercised 
under  conditions — These  conditions  or  objects  are  diverse :  subject-objects  and  object-objects. 
§  47.  The  process  which  prepares  objects  of  knowledge.  §  48.  To  know  implies  the  certainty  ol 
being — Beings  or  realities  differ  in  their  kind.  §  49.  Also  the  reality  of  their  relations — Objec- 
tions—The truth  admitted  directly  and  indirectly — No  objects  without  relations— Existcrce  not 
known  before  or  apart  from  relations.  §50.  Knowledge  of  two  forms;  analysis  and  synthesis. 
§51.  Objects  and  relations  different  and  numerous.  §52.  When  is  the  process  of  knowledge 
Complete  ?  §  53.  The  act  diverse  in  its  energy  ;  attention.  §  54.  Some  objects  more  easily  dis- 
cerned than  others.  §55.  Intellectual  development;  the  psychological  order.  §  56.  The  logical 
relation  of  processes  and  products.  §  57.  Empirical  and  philosophical  knowled^;.  §  58.  These 
relations  do  not  always  coincide— The  critical  stage  of  knowledge.  §  60.  Order  of  intellectual 
development  and  growth.  §  61.  Order  and  rules  for  intellectual  culture.  §  62.  Principles  of 
classifying  the  powers  of  the  intellect.  §63.  Faculties  enumerated.  §64.  The  presentative 
faculty — Its  objects ;  how  distinguished — Its  conditions.  §  65.  The  representative  faculty — Iti 
objects — Its  conditions;  association  of  ideas.  §66.  Thought  or  intelligence,  developed  last 
«f  all — Its  products — The  conditions  of  thought— Two  aspects  or  forms  of  thought. 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS.  XI 

PART    FIRST. 

PRESENTATION  AND  PRESENT ATIVE  KNOWLEDGE. 
CHAPTER  I. — CONSCIOUSNESS.     I.  NATURAL  CONSCIOUSNESS.  .     83 

§  67.  Consciousness  defined — Applied  to  the  power  and  its  acts.  §  68.  Consciousness  used  to 
designate  knowledge  of  any  kind.  §  69.  A  collective  term  for  all  the  intellectual  states.  §  70. 
Metaphorical  definitions  of  consciousness.  §71.  Proper  meaning  of  consciousness.  §72.  Apper- 
ception; why  so  called.  §  73.  Consciousness  and  reflection  as  defined  and  used  by  Locke.  §74. 
Two  forms  of  its  activity.  §  75.  Natural  consciousness  defined  as  an  act  ;  necessary  to  many  acts 
An  act  of  knowledge  involving  relations  and  product— A  peculiar  act;  in  its  conditions.  §  76. 
Peculiar  in  the  language  by  which  it  is  described.  §  77.  Consciousness  the  object — Psychical 
States,  complex  objects.  §  78.  Relation  of  consciousness  to  each  of  these  elements.  §  79.  These 
elements  not  always  viewed  with  equal  attention.  §  80.  The  activity  may  be  chiefly  noticed. 
§  81.  Consciousness  of  the  ego — Involved  in  the  nature  of  a  psychical  state — If  not  known  could 
not  be  inferred — Proved  by  every  act  of  memory — Admitted  by  those  who  deny  it— The  relations 
to  the  ego  not  always  reflected  on— The  Ego  not  the  whole  substance  of  the  soul.  §  82.  Conscious- 
ness of  the  object.  §  83.  Summary  respecting  the  object  of  consciousness.  §  84.  The  object 
of  consciousness  is  a  being — Special  import  of  cogito,  ergo  sum — Skepticism  emphatically 
excluded — The  conscious  act  does  not  create  its  object  by  the  act.  §  85.  Validity  of  relations  also 
established — The  soul  a  microcosm — All  the  categories  involved  in  consciousness — Man  assumed 
to  be  the  image  of  God.  §  86.  Development  and  growth  of  consciousness — Unconscious  life — 
Sensation  and  self-feeling — Sensations  discriminated — Emotions  distinguished  from  sensations 
— The  self  not  the  ego — Differences  in  individuals — The  capacity  for  consciousness  not  developed 
— Consciousness  not  a  product  of  circumstances.  §  87.  Latent  modifications  of  consciousness — 
Conscious-ness  susceptible  of  degrees. 

CHAPTER   IT. — REFLECTIVE,  OR  PHILOSOPHICAL  CONSCIOUSNESS.    .    104 

§  88.  The  reflective  contrasted  with  the  natural  consciousness.  §  89.  The  reflective  con- 
sciousness defined — The  morbid  consciousness  in  children  and  adults — The  ethical  conscious- 
ness. §  90.  The  scientific  reflective  consciousness.  §  91.  Characterized  by  persistent  attention. 
§  92.  It  attends  to  all  the  psychical  phenomena.  §  93.  Compares  and  classifies  them.  §  94.  In- 
terprets and  explains  them  by  power  and  laws.  §  95.  Relations  of  the  philosophical  to  the  natu- 
ral consciousness.  §  96.  Does  the  philosophical  consciousness  impart  new  knowledge — Illustrated 
by  the  knowledge  of  the  ego  and  of  the  self.  §  97.  Office  of  language  in  respect  to  each— Language 
does  not  create  the  facts — Dangers  of  mere  technology  and  system— The  language  of  common  life 
sometimes  the  safest — How  much  do  uncultivated  men  know? — The  language  of  common  life 
useful.  §  98.  The  actions  of  men  also  an  important  test  of  truth.  §  99.  Conditions  of  reaching 
the  decisions  of  consciousness.  §  100.  Uncertainty  and  slow  progress  of  psychology  explained. 
§  101.  Peculiar  difficulties  in  the  study  of  the  soul. 

PRESENTATION  AND   PRESENTATIYE  KNOWLEDGE. 

II.    SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

CHAPTER    III. — SENSE-PERCEPTION — THE    CONDITIONS  AND  THE    PRO- 
CESS  119 

§  102.  Sense-perception  defined  and  distinguished.  §  103.  Is  developed  earliest  of  all  the 
powers ;  seems  to  be  the  most  familiar.  §  104.  Is  not  the  most  easily  understood.  §105.  Distin- 
guished from  other  mental  acts — Knowledge  of  matter,  not  gained  by  sense-perception.  §  106 
Knowledge  that  is  gained  by  sense-perception.  §  107.  Results  of  analysis— Eight  topics  proposed. 


Ill  TABLE    OP   CONTENTS. 

I.  The  Conditions  or  Media  of  Sense- Perception 121 

§  108.  The  conditions  enumerated— The  first  condition  —The  material  organism— The  nervom 
system — The  sensorium — The  reflex  action  of  the  nerves.  §  109.  The  second  condition  is  an 
object  or  excitant.  §  110.  The  third  condition  ;  its  action  on  the  sensorium. 

ii.  The  Process  of  Sense- Perception. 127 

§111.  The  process  of  sense-perception  in  the  simplest  form;  what? — It  is  psychical,  not 
physiological— It  is  complex;  of  two  elements — The  elements  unequal  in  energy;  in  the  same 
and  the  different  senses.  §  112.  Sensation  proper  pertains  to  the  soul.  §  113.  Yet  experi- 
enced by  the  soul  connected  with  an  organism.  §  114.  The  sensations  localized.  §  115.  Differ 
from  one  another  in  quality  and  detiniteness.  §  116.  Perception  proper,  an  act  of  pure 
knowledge;  its  object.  §117.  Its  object  a  uou-egfo;  what  kind  of  a  uou-ego.  §118.  An  ex- 
tended non-ego.  §  119.  Perception  attends  all  the  senses — The  extension  and  externality  ;  all  ob- 
jects not  given  with  equal  clearness.  §  120.  The  varying  relations  of  sensation  and  perception 
proper— In  different  sensations  of  the  same  sense. 

CHAPTER  IV.— CLASSES  OF  SENSE-PERCEPTIONS,       ...         135 

§121.  Three  classes  of  sense-perception ;  the  muscular — Ranked  as  the  lowest.  §122.  The 
organic — Common  sensibility.  §  123.  The  special  sense-perceptions — Smell :  Its  organ,  conditions, 
and  objects — Names  and  character  of  the  sensations — They  are  sense-perceptions.  §  124.  Taste: 
Organs  and  objects — Variety  of  the  sensations — How  designated — Gratifications — Objective  rela- 
tions. §  125.  Hearing :  its  organ — Sonorous  bodies  ;  how  characterized— The  sensations  various 
— In  what  respects  distinguishable — Sounds  in  succession  and  combination  ;  melody  and  harmony. 
§  126.  The  condition  of  oral  language — Expressive  of  feeling — The  dignity  of  hearing — Sounds; 
sense-perceptions.  §127.  The  sense  of  touch  ;  organ — Weber's  experiments — Essential  condition 
of  touch.  §  128.  Variety  of  sensations  involved  in  touch — Sensations  proper  of  gentle  touch — 
Sensations  involving  violence  or  injury — Sensations  of  temperature — Sensations  of  pressure  and 
weight — The  muscular  sensations — Sensations  localized.  §  129.  Perceptions  proper  of  touch- 
Extension  and  externality  perceived  in  the  concrete — Perception  of  extension  by  touch  ;  not  ex- 
plicable by  extension  in  the  organism — Physiological  conditions  and  psychical  act— Not  by  local 
signs — The  sensorium  known  as  extended —  §  130.  The  perception  of  externality  by  touch — Two 
meanings  of  externality — Externality  in  the  first  signification— Brown's  theory — Externality  in  the 
second  signification.  §  131.  Sense  of  touch  the  leading  sense — Furnishes  intellectual  terms.  §  132. 
Sight ;  its  organ — The  conditions  of  vision — Function  of  the  image  on  the  retina — Sensations  proper 
of  vision.  §  133.  Perception  proper  in  vision ;  the  object — Is  always  extended — Visible  extension 
superficial  only — Contrary  view ;  the  stereoscope.  §  134.  A  single  object  seen  with  two  eyes. 
§  135.  Original  place  of  the  visible  percept.  §  136.  Dignity  of  the  eye. 

CHAPTER    V.— THE  ACQUIRED  SENSE-PERCEPTIONS,      .         .        .158 

§  187.  Sense-perceptions  original  and  acquired.  §  138.  Importance  of,  and  time  of  gaining 
the  acquired  perceptions.  §  139.  The  acquired  perceptions  of  smell— The  acquired  perceptions 
tf  hearing  §  140.  Acquired  perceptions  of  sight;  distance  judged  by  size. — Judgments  of  mag- 
nitude by  distance — Judgments  of  distance  by  color,  outline,  clearness,  etc. — Judgments  of  size 
by  oilier  equidistant  objects— Influence  of  intermediate  objects.  §  141.  Judgments  of  form,  etc., 
by  sight.  §142.  Form,  distance,  and  magnitude;  how  far  learned  from  touch.  §  143.  Acquired 
sense-perceptions  of  our  own  body — Acquired  perceptions  required  to  manage  and  control  the 
body.  §  144.  What  does  nature  provide  in  the  construction  and  impulses  of  the  body  ? — Arrange- 
ments and  impulses  for  bodily  expression — Arrangements  for  the  combined  activity  of  different 
parts.  §  145.  How  does  the  intellect  avail  itself  of  these  arrangements  ? — How  we  learn  to  talk — 
How  we  learn  to  walk — Feats  of  dexterity;  expressional  effects — Summary  and  inferences. 
§  146.  The  errors  of  the  senses  explained— How  distinguished  from  another  class.  §  147.  The 
acquired  perceptions  as  acts  of  knowledge.  §  148.  They  involve  induction — Reasons  why  infants 
can  make  these  inductions.  §  149.  Objections  from  the  case  of  animals— Reasons  why  the  per 
ceptions  of  animals  and  of  man  should  differ. 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS.  xj 

CHAPTER     VI. — DEVELOPMENT    AND     GROWTH     OF    SENSE-PERCEP- 
TION.  178 

§  150.  Nature,  interest,  and  difficulty  of  the  problem.  §  151.  The  problem  perplexing  to  the 
imagination,  but  not  insolvable  to  the  intellect — Data  and  grounds  of  inference.  §  152.  The  in- 
tellect and  soul  before  sense-perception  begins — The  beginnings  and  development  of  attention. 
§  153.  Muscular  and  vital  perceptions  first  developed— Hearing,  taste  and  smell.  §  154.  The  eye 
and  the  hand;  which  acts  first?— We  begin  with  the  hand.  §  155.  Extra-organic  non-ego;  how 
perceived — Combination  of  muscular  and  tactual  perceptions — Space-relations  of  the  extra- 
organic  ;  how  acquired — Hamilton's  theory  of  the  perception  of  the  extra-organic.  §  156.  With 
the  eye  another  problem  begins— Observations  upon  infants.  §  157.  Development  of  vision. 
— Why  percepts  of  vision  are  projected  in  space— Most  plausible  explanation.  §  158.  The  con- 
nection of  the  hands  as  seen  and  the  hands  as  touched— The  world  of  the  eye  and  the  world  of 
the  hand.  §  159.  Other  acquisitions  of  infancy— How  the  world  appears  to  an  infant.  §  160.  The 
blind  from  birth,  upon  the  recovery  of  sight. 

CHAPTER  VII. — THE    PRODUCTS   OF  SENSE-PERCEPTION,  OR  THE  PER- 
CEPTION OF  MATERIAL  THINGS 192 

§  161.  Material  things  and  sense-percepts.  §  162.  By  what  relations  are  percepts  made  into 
things  ?  §  163.  The  first  stage  of  perception ;  when  complete.  §  164.  Material  things  capable 
of  various  significations — Percepts  recalled  under  relations  of  time.  §  165.  The  second  stage  ; 
the  relation  of  substance  and  attribute — General  definition  of  this  relation.  §  166.  Relations 
most  frequently  used  as  attributes — Sensations  of  smell,  taste,  and  sound,  first  used  as  attributes — 
Coexistence  in  space  and  time  previous  to  substance  and  attribute — This  relation  supposes  reflex 
and  indirect  knowledge— This  relation  denied  to  sense-perception  ;  Kant;  Hamilton.  §167.  Of 
touch  and  sight  percepts  conjoined ;  which  is  substance  and  which  is  attribute  ?  §  168.  When 
either  are  taken  alone.  §  169.  Attributive  quality  of  form  and  size.  §  170.  Conditions  of  per- 
manent perception — Ideation  of  sense-objects.  §171.  When  is  perception  complete  ?  §172.  First 
condition  of  completed  perception  :  energy,  contrast,  and  resemblance — Resemblances  and  con- 
trasts, objective  and  subjective — Force  of  contrast.  §  173.  Second  condition  is  motion.  §  174. 
Third  condition,  repetition— Need  of  repetition  according  to  the  receptive  school.  §  175.  Need 
of  repetition  according  to  the  active  school ;  because  it  excites  greater  interest — In  single  percepts 
— This  as  true  of  things  as  it  is  of  percepts.  §  176.  Repetition  more  essential  for  the  mastery  of 
large  and  complex  objects — Some  objects  are  beyond  the  natural  limits  of  the  soul — The  first  per- 
ception often  a  mere  effort  of  discovery  and  selection — Very  large  and  complex  objects  require 
repetition— More  frequent  repetition  if  the  objects  are  irregular.  §  177.  Fourth  condition  of  suc- 
cessful perception  is  familiarity.  §  178.  Repetition  not  necessarily  recognition.  §  179.  Continu- 
ance of  time  necessary  for  successful  perception — Feats  of  jugglery  involve  quickness  of  move- 
ment. §  180.  Can  we  attend  to  more  than  one  thing  at  a  time  ? — Objections  to  Stewart's  theory 
— Attention  to  an  object  and  its  image — The  mind  can  attend  to  more  than  one  thing  at  a  time 
— Can  the  mind  use  the  utmost  attention  upon  more  than  one  object  ? 

CHAPTER     VIII.  — ACTIVITY     OF     THE     SOUL     IN     SENSE-PERCEP 
TION 210 

§  181.  Sense-perception  held  to  be  passive  only — Grounds  on  which  the  theory  rests.  §  182. 
That  the  soul  is  active  is  attested  by  consciousness.  §  183.  Its  activity  is  developed  by  degrees, 
and  to  varying  perfection — Attention  the  condition  of  success  and  progress.  §  184.  Differences 
in  the  perceptions  of  the  same  and  of  different  men.  §  185.  Different  modes  of  this  activity  ;  in- 
nervation  of  the  organs — Partial  suspension  of  certain  organs.  §  186.  The  attention  fixes  upon 
lelected  objects.  §  187.  Activity  shown  in  selecting  and  combining  sense-objects — The  recog 
nition  of  this  activity  important  for  the  explanation  of  imagination  and  memory.  §  188.  This  ac 
tivity  in  selection  and  combination  shown  in  early  life — The  same  activity  continued  in  mature 
life.  §  189.  Differences  in  special  activities  of  adults.  §  190.  This  activity  directed  and  stimu- 
lated by  the  interest  felt  in  the  object.  §  191.  This  activity  is  a  limited  and  dependent  activity 
§  192.  Is  elementary  and  easily  exercised.  §  193.  Sense-perception ;  summary  and  review. 


XIV  TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  IX.— THEORIES  OF  SENSE-PERCEPTION.      .        .        .         221 

§  194.  These  theories  universal— Determined  by  the  prevailing  philosophy—  Th-jir  reflex  influ- 
ence often  mischievous — Why  especially  liable  to  be  erroneous— More  usually  iheories  of  vision. 
§  195.  The  early  Greek  philosophers — Diogenes  of  Apollonia — Heraclitus  and  Empedocles— 
Democritus.  §  196.  The  Socratic  school — Plato — Aristotle — The  intellectual  element — The  com- 
mon, sensory  or  percipient — Matter  and  form,  or  species.  §  197.  The  schoolmen— Their  doctrine 
of  species.  §198.  Gassendi,  P.,  1592-1655.  §199.  Descartes,  R.,  1596-1650— Geulincx,  1625- 
1699— Malebrauche,  N.,  1688-1715.  §  200.  Arnauld,  A.,  1612—1694.  §  201.  John  Locke,  1632- 
1704.  §  202.  Berkeley,  Geo.,  1684-1753— David  Hume,  1711-1776.  §  203.  Dr.  Thomas  Eeid,  1710- 
1796.  §  204.  Dugald  Stewart,  1753-1828.  §  205.  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  1778-1820.  §  206.  Sir 
William  Hamilton,  1788-1856.  §  207.  De  Condillac,  S.  B.,  1715-1780.  §  208.  Laromiguiere,  P., 
1756-1837.  §  209.  Royer  Collard,  P.  P.,  1763-1845.  §  210.  Maine  de  Biran,  F.  P.  G.,  1766-1824, 
§  211.  Leibnitz,  G.  W.,  1646-1716.  §  212.  Tetens,  J.  N.,  1736-1807.  §  213.  Immanuel  Kant,  1724- 
1804.  §  214.  Herbart,  J.  F.,  1776-1841.  §  215.  Schleiermacher,  1768-1834.  §  216.  John  Mliller, 
1801-1858. 


PART    SECOND. 

REPRESENTATION   AND    REPRESENTATIVE    KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER    I. —  THE    REPRESENTATIVE    POWER    DEFINED    AND    EX- 
PLAINED.  248 

§  217.  Representation  defined — Not  limited  to  sensible  objects — Is  also  a  creative  power. 
§  218.  Appellations  for  the  power — Appellations  in  common  use.  §  219.  Objects  of  the  representa- 
tive power — Are  individual  and  not  general — In  what  sense  these  objects  are  the  same.  §  220. 
These  objects  involve  relations — Relations  peculiar  to  Representation  itself— No  technical  name 
for  the  objects  of  this  power.  §  221.  Conditions  and  laws  of  representation  considered.  §  222. 
Representation  divided  into  several  varieties — Perfect  memory — Imperfect  memory — Phantasy- 
Imagination  ;  its  varieties— The  mathematical  imagination — Phantasy  proper — Poetic  fancy — 
Poetic  imagination  in  the  higher  sense — Philosophical  imagination.  §  223.  Interest  and  impor- 
tance of  the  representative  power. 

CHAPTER  II. — THE  REPRESENTATIVE  OBJECT — ITS   NATURE   AND  IM- 
PORTANCE  258 

§  224.  Why  the  object  of  Representation  needs  special  discussion. 

I.  The  Nature  and  Mode  of  Existence  of  the  Representative  Object.    .     .    .    259 
$  225.  They  are  psychical  objects.     §  226.  Are  transient  and  short-lived  objects.     §  227.  They 
should  be  distinguished  from  spectra  and  hallucinations — They  are  intellectual  objects. 

IT.  The  relation  of  the  Representative  Idea  to  the  Original.  .  .  .  261 
§  228.  The  relation  can  be  compared  with  no  other — Two  classes  of  representative  objects. 
§  229.  Representative  ideas  of  consciousness  and  sense-perception  do  not  resemble  their  objects 
— Contradictions  in  such  a  theory.  §230.  In  memory  and  recognition  no  discernment  of  resem- 
blance; none  in  simple  memory — None  in  recognition — The  acts  of  memory  and  recognition 
known  by  consciousness  only — Alternation  of  perception,  memory,  and  recognition.  §  231.  Men. 
tal  pictures  less  exciting  than  real  objects.  §  232.  A  mental  picture  consists  of  fewer  element* 
than  a  real  object.  §  233.  The  mental  picture  is  recalled  in  parts,  slowly,  and  by  successive  acti 
—Example  from  a  scene  in  nature,  as  seen  and  ren:  embered — Objects  of  imagination. 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS.  XV 

ra.  The  usefulness  oj  Ideas  in  Thought  and  Action.          .        .        •        .260 
§  231.  In  thought  we  prefer  ideas  to  realities — The  idea  presents  fewer  features  than  th« 
reality.      §  235.   Ideas  especially  useful  in  comparison — In  higher  generalizations,  still  fewer 
elements  are  required.    §  236.  The  nature  and  service  of  the  schema.    §  237.  Images  prepare  fof 
and  aid  io  action. 

CHAPTER  III. — THE  CONDITIONS  AND  LAWS  OP  XVEPRESENTATION — THB 
ASSOCIATION  OP  IDEAS 269 

§  238.  Association  of  ideas  ;  general  fact ;  various  terms.  §  239.  Importance  and  interest  of 
the  subject — Association  ustd  to  explain  all  other  facts  and  laws.  §  240.  Method  of  discussion 
and  inquiry. 

i    The  Primary  Laws  of  Association.        .        .        .  .        .        .     272 

$  241.  Association  not  explained  by  bodily  organization.  §  242.  Defect  of  all  physiological 
and  corporeal  theories — Facts  relating  to  the  connection  of  the  body  with  the  imagination  and 
memory.  §  243.  How  these  facts  can  be  accounted  for  and  explained— Any  disturbance  of  th 
bodily  state  introduces  disturbing  sensations.  §  244.  The  vital  sensations,  though  vague,  may 
be  links  in  a  chain  of  associations.  §  245.  The  laws  of  association  cannot  be  referred  to  an.v 
attractive  power  in  ideas  as  such — Herbart's  theory  of  the  attraction  of  ideas.  §  246.  Nor  into 
the  force  of  relations  as  such — These  relations  variously  classed — Relations  of  place — Relations  of 
time — Both  in  conjunction — Relations  of  similarity  and  contrast — Relations  of  cause  and  effect — 
Of  means  and  end,  etc. — Are  not  other  relations  supposable  ? — Cannot  these  relations  be  reduced 
to  a  single  law  ?  §  247.  The  law  of  redintegration — Will  this  explain  all  these  particular  cases  ? 
— The  relations  of  time,  space,  and  causation — The  relation  of  similarity  occasions  difficulty — 
How  the  difficulty  is  resolved.  §248.  The  parts  and  wholes  are  not  the  same,  but  similar.  §249. 
The  explanation  is  not  in  the  objects,  but  in  the  mind's  activity — The  real  explanation ;  how 
enounced — This  principle  explains  the  force  of  succession — Explains  the  power  of  feeling  over  the 
associations.  §  250.  Explains  the  predominance  of  special  associations.  §  251.  Explains  the  in- 
fluence of  sensible  objects — Associations  with  home.  §  252.  Explains  the  power  of  bodily  states. 
§  253.  Explains  why  a  part  and  not  the  whole  is  often  represented.  §  254.  Explains  why  relations 
are  so  important.  §  255.  Finally,  why  certain  classes  of  relations  give  the  laws  of  association. 

u.  The  Secondary  Laws  of  Association 286 

§  256.  The  secondary  laws  defined — The  same  enumerated.  §  257.  How  far  reducible  to 
the  same  principle  with  the  primary— The  force  of  repetition — The  recentness  of  the  object 
thought  of — The  memory  of  old  age — The  force  of  entangling  relations — Natural  aptitudes.  §  258. 
Apparent  exceptions  to  the  law  of  association.  §  259.  Two  theories  for  their  explanation.  §  260. 
Representation  unceasingly  active.  §  261.  Objective  interruptions  to  this  activity.  §  262. 
Subjective  interruptions.  §  263.  Association  not  the  only  nor  the  most  important  power — Depen- 
dent very  largely  upon  the  emotions  and  will.  §  264.  Indirect  control  over  the  associations — 
Illustrations  from  common  phenomena.  §  265.  Law  of  association  and  law  of  habit — Which  is 
resolvable  into  the  other?  §266.  Theory  of  habit — Supposes  some  difficulty  to  be  overcome — 
Bodily  habits.  §  267.  Mental  habits ;  obstacles  to  be  overcome — Wherein  the  difficulty  lies- 
Emotional  and  moral  habits.  §  268.  Higher  and  lower  laws  of  association— In  what  sense  higher 
and  lower.  §  269.  The  higher  often  prevail  over  and  displace  the  lower.  Absent-mindedness  ex- 
plained. §  270.  The  lower  displace  the  higher.  §  271.  The  lower  associations  affect  the  feelings 
most  efficiently — How  and  why  fashions  change — The  moral  influence  of  casual  associations. 
§  272.  Influence  of  casual  associations  upon  language — Force  of  epithets  and  names — Their  in- 
fluence in  philosophy. 

CHAPTER  IV. — REPRESENTATION. — (1.)  THE  MEMORY,  OR  RECOGNIZING 
FACULTY 300 

§  273.  The  elements  essential  to  an  act  of  memory.  §  274.  These  elements  may  be  recalled 
irith  unequal  perfection — The  object  proper,  of  the  original  act — The  original  act  of  knowledge— 


rvi  TABLE   OF   CONTENTS. 

Its  relations  of  time— Its  relations  of  place.  §  275.  The  act  of  recognition  may  vary  in  positive 
ness — Do  we  never  distrust  the  memory? — Do  we  not  offer  reasons  for  trusting  it?  §  276. 
Memory  technically  defined.  §  277.  Representation  the  first  element  of  memory— Recognition, 
the  second  element.  §  278.  The  spontaneous  and  intentional  memory.  §  279.  The  spontaneous 
memory.  §  280.  Original  differences  in  the  spontaneous  memory — The  relations  peculiar  to  it. 
§  281.  The  value  of  a  good  spontaneous  memory.  §  282.  The  combination  of  a  spontaneous  and 
rational  memory.  §  283.  The  intentional  memory  defined — The  object  vaguely  known  already. 
$  284.  The  object  sought  for  related  to  an  object  known— Several  ways  of  recovering  the  object 
•ought  for.  §  285.  The  active  element  prominent — Must  avail  itself  of  the  passive  element. 
§  286.  Memory  as  the  power  to  retain.  §  287.  The  power  to  retain  ;  how  accounted  for— Figura- 
tive language  concerning  the  memory.  §  288.  The  ready  and  the  tenacious  memory.  §  289.  For- 
getfulness — Degrees  and  varieties  of  forgetfuluess.  §  290.  Is  entire  forgetfulness  possible? — Sin 
gular  cases  of  the  recovery  of  forgotten  knowledge.  §  291.  Dependence  of  the  memory  upon 
the  bodily  condition — Dependence  upon  the  season  and  the  time  of  the  day.  §  292.  Dependence 
on  the  condition  of  the  body  in  the  act  of  recalling — Sudden  loss  of  memory.  §  293.  How  these 
cases  are  explained — May  all  knowledge  be  recovered.  §  294.  Varieties  of  memory;  how  ex- 
plained. §  295.  Development  of  memory ;  the  memory  of  infancy.  §  296.  The  memory  of 
childhood  and  youth.  §  297.  Self-culture  of  the  memory.  §  298.  The  memory  of  manhood. 
§  299.  The  memory  of  old  age.  §  300.  Special  and  individual  varieties  of  memory.  §  301.  Varie- 
ties of  memory  depend  on  objects  and  their  relations — The  memory  of  the  undisciplined  mind. 
§  302.  The  memory  of  the  young  and  of  older  persons.  §  303.  The  men  of  universal  memory  : 
Niebuhr  and  Pascal.  §  304.  The  memory  of  the  ancients.  §  305.  The  laws  of  memory  should 
be  regarded  in  education.  §  306.  How  can  the  memory  be  cultivated  ?— Fundamental  principles 
and  rules.  §  307.  Artificial  memory,  or  mnemonics — Value  of  mnemonics — Objections  to  mnemo- 
nics— When  are  they  useful  ? — General  Bern's  Historical  mnemonics.  §  308.  Coleridge's  arts  of 
memory.  §  309.  The  moral  elements  of  a  good  memory — How  to  destroy  and  confound  the  memory. 

CHAPTER    V. — REPRESENTATION. — (2.)  THE    PHANTASY,    OR    IMAGING 
POWER 325 

§310.  Phantasy  defined  and  illustrated— Reverie ;  Infancy;  Old  age — Why  phantasy  infre- 
quent. Trains  of  association.  §311.  Fainting;  Sleep;  Distraction.  §312.  Three  suppositions 
possible  of  the  states  in  question — The  power  of  association  is  operative  in  them  all — Deviations 
accounted  for — (1.)  By  changes  in  the  relative  proportion  of  the  powers — (2.)  By  the  bodily  states 
— (3.)  By  other  peculiarities  in  the  materials  on  which  it  works.  §  313.  More  particular  consid- 
eration of  the  conditions  of  representation — Unnoticed  bodily  states  may  be  reproduced  in  dream- 
ing, etc.— The  pre-conscious  experiences  and  states — The  bodily  condition  excites  peculiar  images 
—The  creative  power  of  the  phantasy  not  to  be  denied. 

I.  Sleep  as  a  Condition  of  the  Body,  or  Sleep  Physiologically  considered.        331 
§  314.  The  senses,  in  sleep,  are  more  or  less  inert— They  are  not   controlled  by  the  soul— The 
vegetative,  circulatory,  and  respiratory  life — Recent  discoveries  and  conclusions — These  condi- 
tions vary  in  proportion  and  degree.    §  315.  The  soul  falls  asleep  by  degrees — One  sense  may 
sleep,  and  others  may  be  awake. 

n.  Sleep  as  a.  Condition  of  the  Soul,  or,  Sleep  considered  Psychologically.  333 
§  316.  Does  the  soul  cease  to  act  in  sleep  ? — Reasons  why  many  believe  it  never  ceases  to  act — 
Opinions  of  Descartes,  Locke,  and  Leibnitz.  §  317.  The  soul,  in  sleep,  acts  with  feebler  energy — 
The  powers  also  act  with  unequal  and  varying  energy.  §  318.  The  representative  power  in  sleep. 
§  319.  Is  irregular  and  capricious ;  Reasons.  §  320.  The  judgments  erroneous  and  wild ;  why  '? 
§  321.  The  reasoning  and  other  higher  functions,  in  dreams.  §  322.  Self-consciousness  in  dreams. 
S  323.  Estimates  of  time  in  dreams.  §324.  Moral  responsibility  in  dreams.  §325.  The  emotional 
powers  in  dreams.  §  326.  The  activity  of  the  will  in  dreams.  §  327.  Three  kinds  of  somnambu- 
lism. §  828.  Natural  somnambulism  defined.  §  329.  Magnetic  somnambulism — The  natural  and 
magnetic  distinguished.  §  330.  Disease  manifested  by  a  disturbance  of  the  equilibrium  of  tha 
Bowers.  §  B31.  Representation  active  in  somnambulism.  §  332.  Some  of  the  sense-perceptions  ac* 


TABLE    OF    CONTENTS.  XVlJ 

with  surprising  energy.  §333.  Does  the  somnambulist  perceive  at  all  with  the  senses?— Th« 
sense-perceptions,  though  acute,  are  limited — This  extraordinary  acuteness  not  without  analogies. 
§  334.  Can  the  somnambulist  have  sense-perceptions  without  the  sense  organs  ? — First,  of  neat 
objects— Second,  of  objects  remote — Third,  of  the  interior  of  the  body.  §  335.  Fourth,  other 
extraordinary  intellectual  activities — His  attention  is  concentrated — And  occupied  with  fe\* 
objects — Also  with  familiar  objects — The  efforts  are  occasional  and  single— The  power  of  divina- 
tion and  prophecy.  §  336.  The  somnambulist  usually  forgets  his  dream  when  he  wakes.  §  337, 
The  somnambulist  remembers  a  previous  somnambulic  state — Capacity  for  alternating  states  and 
activities.  §  338.  The  artificial  somnambulism  ;  Induced  by  the  agency  of  another  person.  §  339. 
Hypnotism  explained— How  related  to  somnambulism.  §  340.  How  one  mind  is  controlled  by 
another.  §  341.  Still  higher  claims.  §  342.  Hallucinations,  apparitions,  etc.  §  343.  Hallucina- 
tions and  spectra,  not  psychical  representations.  §  344.  Insanity. 

CHAPTER  VI. — REPRESENTATION. — (3.)  THE  IMAGINATION,  OK  CREATIVE 
POWER 351 

§  345.  Subject  and  method  of  inquiry — Conditions  and  materials  common  to  the  imagination 
— Space  and  time — Thought  conceptions  and  relations — The  imagination  limited  to  material 
qualities — Limited  also  to  known  spiritual  powers.  §  346.  It  creates  new  products ;  In  relation 
to  space  and  time — In  the  size  of  material  objects — In  their  relative  position — It  changes  material 
forms — It  alters  the  relations  of  time.  §  347.  It  creates  mathematical  entities ;  In  geometry — In 
arithmetic  and  algebra.  §  348.  In  matter,  it  separates  and  recombines  parts  and  properties. 
§  349.  It  can  combine  spiritual  beings  with  wholes  and  parts  of  matter — Imaginary  intellectual 
and  emotional  creations.  §350.  Products  under  thought-relations.  §351.  How  does  the  imaginf^ 
tion  create  ? 

i.  The  Combining  and  arranging  Office  of  the  Imagination.         .         .        357 
§  352.  It  combines  and  arranges  parts  and  wholes — Limits  and  laws  of  the  products  evolved. 

ii.  The  Idealization  of  the  relation  of  Space  and  Time  in  the  Creations  of  Art 

and  the  Constructions  of  Mathematical  Science 358 

§  353.  It  constructs  ideals  of  mathematics  and  art — These  products  suggested  by,  not 
copied  from  nature.  §  354.  Geometrical  and  arithmetical  quantities. 

m.  The  Formation  of  an  Ideal  Standard  for  Psychical  Acts  and  States.  .  359 
§  355.  The  imagination  idealizes  psychical  acts  and  states.  §  356.  It  expresses  them  by  sense 
objects.  §  357.  The  products  of  the  creative  imagination  ;  What  is  an  ideal  ? — The  ideals  are  not 
images,  but  images  viewed  in  limited  relations — The  ideals  of  the  artist;  and  inventor — Psychical 
and  ethical  ideals.  §  358.  Ideals  founded  on  and  related  to  individual  experience.  §  359.  The 
imagination  is  capable  of  growth  and  culture — The  imagination  accompanies  all  the  psychical  acts. 
§  360.  Is  developed  from  the  earliest  till' the  latest  periods  of  life.  §  361.  Nature  educates  the 
imagination.  §  362.  The  educated  imagination  meets  the  exigencies  which  call  it  forth. 

SpecM  Applications  of  the  Imagination. — (a)  The  Poetic  Imagination.     366 

§  363.  The  imagination  modifies  and  is  modified  by  the  other  powers — The  poetic  imagination 

—The  sources  or  materials  of  poetry — Preeminently  human  truth — Poetry  simple,  sensuous,  and 

passionate — Poetry,  in  its  higher  forms,  unites  and  fuses — In  its  lower,  it  separates  and  scatters—' 

Its  medium  is  language. 


(ft)  TTie  Philosophic  Imagination. 


$  364.  Relations  of  the  imagination  to  thought  and  science— Relations  to  invention  and  dis- 
jovery— The  poetical  and  philosophical  imagination  nearly  allied — Objections  to  this  view.  §  36& 
In  communicating  philosophic  truth. 


ZV111  TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

(c)  Ttie  Ethical  Imagination.        ........         871 

§  367.  Ethical  relations  of  the  imagination — Relation  of  idea/s  to  our  happiness.    §  368.  Ideal! 
of  life  necessarily  ethical — Ideals  of  duty  may  be  changed  and  improved. 

(d)  Imagination  and  Religious  Faith.     .......        373 

§  369.  Relation  of  the  imagination  to  religious  faith — We  must  imagine  as  wel    as  believe 

in  spiritual  facts — The  process  ;  and  its  trust- worthiness.  §  370.  The  imagination  limited  in 
its  pictures  of  another  state  of  being.  §371.  Common  relations  in  the  finite  and  the  infinite- 
Necessary  cautions  in  conceiving  and  interpreting  revelation. 


PART    THIRD. 

THINKING    AND    THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE. 
CHAPTER  I. — THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE  DEFINED  AND  EXPLAINED.       377 

§  372.  To  what  processes  are  the  terms  applied  ? — The  relation  of  these  processes  to  man's 
higher  knowledge — The  dignity  of  thought-processes.  §  373.  The  thought-processes  illustrated 
by  an  example— The  apple  as  substance  and  attribute — Abstraction  and  generalization—Classi- 
fication and  naming — Geometrical  and  numerical  relations — Cause  and  effect — Induction — Adapta- 
tion and  design — Example  from  spiritual  being.  §  374.  Thinking  and  thought  defined.  §  375. 
The  use  of  the  terms  justified — What  these  terms  do  not  imply.  §  376.  Appellations  for  the 
power  of  thinking — Terminology  and  influence  of  Locke's  Essay.  §  377.  Two  aspects  of  thought 
— Often  distinguished  as  two  faculties.  §  378.  Forms  and  laws  of  thought ;  Forms  of  being. 
§  379.  Relation  of  thought  to  the  lower  powers — In  what  sense  active  from  the  first.  §  380.  Con- 
crete and  abstract  thinking— By  whom  is  concrete  thinking  performed  ? — Difficulty  of  abstract 
thinking — Errors  of  those  who  think  only  in  the  concrete— Of  those  who  think  in  the  abstract. 
§  381.  Relation  of  knowledge  by  experience  and  by  thought.  §  382.  Relation  of  thought  to 
language — A  limited  language  indicates  limited  thought — The  study  of  words  a  study  of  thought. 

CHAPTER    II.  —  THOUGHT  —  THE    FORMATION    OF  THE    CONCEPT,  OE 
NOTION. 388 

§  383.  Material  objects  perceived  before  concepts  are  formed — Perceived  objects  are  known  to 
be  similar — This  involves  analysis  of  their  relations— Beings  distinguished  from  their  attributes. 
§  384.  Abstraction  ;  to  abstract  and  to  prescind — Comparison — Generalization— The  attribute 
affirmable  of  many  beings — These  processes  performed  by  all  men.  §  385.  Presuppose  th«  dis- 
tinction of  substance  and  attribute — This  distinction  not  discerned  by  sense-perception- -Nor 
strictly  speaking,  by  consciousness.  §  386.  The  product,  a  concept,  or  notion ;  Import  of  these 
terms — The  reality  of  the  product  questioned — Concept  not  a  percept — Not  a  mental  image — No 
existing  individual  corresponds  to  the  concept.  §  387.  Is  a  relative  object  of  knowledge — In 
what  sense  is  the  concept  a  symbol  ? — The  concept  more  than  a  name.  §  388.  The  concept  re- 
spects attributes  or  relations — Can  brutes  form  concepts  ? — The  concept  respects  relations  only, 
^  389.  Concepts  as  concrete  and  abstract.  §  390.  Notions  as  simple  and  complex— No  simple 
ideas  or  beings  in  nature.  §  391.  Content  and  extent  of  notions— Content  defined— Extent  defined 
— Extent  usually  measured  by  species — Definition  and  division — Content  inversely  as  extent. 
§  392.  Classification,  how  does  it  arise? — Children  classify  rudely — How  savages  classify.  §  393. 
The  classifications  of  science — Classification  not  peculiar  to  science— What  the  nomenclature  of  * 
science  represents.  §  394.  Classification  and  systemization — The  relation  of  both  to  knowledge. 
|  395.  How  much  do  we  gain  by  knowing  by  concepts  ?  §396.  The  significance  of  classifica- 
tion --The  significance  of  naming  objects — The  varying  import  of  the  concept  salt.  §  397.  Rela- 
tion of  knowledge  by  concepts  and  by  intuitions. 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS.  XLX 

CHAPTER  III. — THE  NATURE  OF  THE   CONCEPT. — SKETCH  OF  THEO- 
RIES.       ......          .....        403 

§  398.  The  doctrines  of  Socrates  and  Plato.  §  399.  Aristotle  and  the  Aristotelians.  §  400 
Porphyry;  23:3-305;  His  questions;  Boethius;  470?  524— The  Realists;  The  Conceptualists ; 
The  Nominalists;  The  motto  of  each.  §  401.  The  Scholastics— Eric  of  Auxerre;  9th  Century— 
Roscellinus  ;  1 1106.  ?— William  of  Champeaux  ;  1070-1121— Abelard,  1097-1143— Albertus  Mag- 
nus;  1193-1280— Thomas  Aquinas;  1226-1274— John  Duns  Scotus;  f  1308— William  of  Occam ; 
1 1347.  §  402.  These  discussions  not  deserving  of  neglect  or  contempt.  §  403.  Modern  Philoso- 
phers :  Thomas  Hobbes.  §  404.  John  Locke.  §  405.  G.  W.  Leibnitz.  §  406.  Geo.  Berkeley 
and  David  Hume.  §  407.  Thomas  Reid  and  Dugald  Stewart.  §  408.  Dr.  Thomas  Brown.  §  409. 
Sir  William  Hamilton.  §  410.  John  Stuart  Mill.  §  411.  Herbert  Spencer.  §  412.  Immanuel 
Kant.  §  413.  J.  G.  Fichte.  §  414.  G.  W.  F.  Hegel.  §  415.  J.  F.  Herbart. 

CHAPTER  IV. — THE  NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. — CONCLUSIONS  FROM  THE 
HISTORY  OF  THEORIES.        .......        413 

§  416.  The  concept  an  object  and  not  an  act.  §  417.  Implies  the  distinction  of  beings  and 
attributes.  §  418.  It  is  a  related  object.  §  419.  Involves  the  recognition  of  similarity.  §  420. 
Can  be  used  for  naming.  §  421.  It  is  a  classifying  agent.  §  422.  It  is  applied  to  an  object  on 
the  ground  of  its  import.  §  423.  The  import  is  exemplified  by  individuals.  §  424.  The  concept 
can  be  referred  to  individual  objects — The  process  explained — The  concept,  in  its  very  nature,  ia 
relative  to  the  individual — Different  images  illustrate  the  same  concept — Very  generalized  concepts 
most  need  to  be  imaged.  §  425.  The  concept  is  aided  by  the  name  ;  The  necessity  of  language 
— The  name  is  sensuous  and  individual — It  is  a  sign  of  a  part  of  the  relations  of  the  individual — • 
Names  prepare  for  new  distinctions  and  discoveries — Names  suggest  only  the  relations  which  we 
require— Experience  demonstrates  the  value  of  language  to  thought — This  explains  the  doctrine 
of  the  nominalist — It  proves  also  that  the  name  requires  a  concept.  §  426.  The  truth  represented 
by  realism — Accidental  properties  and  relations — Permanent  classifications  and  concepts — The 
classifications  of  botany — The  name  usually  signifies  a  permanent  and  important  thing— These 
permanent  concepts  and  things  sought  by  the  realist — The  mistakes  of  the  realists — Are  there 
permanent  classes  and  species  in  nature  ?  §  427.  The  relation  of  symbolic  to  intuitive  knowl- 
edge— Its  ground  already  explained — Words  valuable  for  definition  and  impression — Advantage 
of  intuition  above  description — Words  more  inadequate  in  mere  description — Language  operates 
largely  by  suggestion — Language  often  very  inadequate — The  symbolism  of  the  invisible  and  the 
spiritual  world— Can  the  infinite  be  described  by  or  to  the  finite? — Man  may  be  in  the  image  of 
God. 

CHAPTER  V. — JUDGMENT  AND  THE  PROPOSITION.        .        .        .        430 

§  428.  The  concept  formed  by  an  act  of  judgment — How  represented  in  many  logical  treatises 
— (1.)  Proved  by  the  analysis  of  the  act — (2.)  Implied  in  the  nature  of  the  concept  as  relative — (3.)  In 
the  nature  of  names — (4.)  In  the  nature  of  knowledge — Mutual  relations  of  the  concept  and  the 
judgment.  §  429.  Judgments  are  psychological  and  logical — Judgments  of  mental  entities — How 
the  subject  of  a  judgment  is  expressed  in  language.  §  430.  How  does  the  logical  differ  from  the 
psychological  judgment  ? — Any  concept  is  capable  of  being  subject  or  predicate.  §  431.  The 
signification  of  the  copula — The  copula  does  not  imply  actual  existence.  §  432.  Judgments  of 
content  and  extent — Natural  and  scientific  judgments  of  content — Essence,  real  and  nominal. 
§  433.  Real  and  logical  truth  the  copula  ambiguous — The  import  of  the  copula,  how  interpreted 
• — Real  and  logical  truth  sometimes  confounded. 

Propositions  of  extent  follow  those  of  content— Of  especial  importance  in  science — Logical 
divisions  of  propositions  of  extent.  §  434.  Propositions  of  content  and  extent  imply  one  another. 
§  435.  Definition  and  division  perfected  in  science — Relation  of  scientific  to  common  knowledge 
— Not  easy  to  divide  common  and  scientific  knowledge — Science  rightly  conceived  and  defined. 

CHAPTER  VI. — REASONING — DEDUCTION  OR  MEDIATE  JUDGMENT.      439 

§  436.  Importance  of  reasoning— Reasoning  is  a  mode  of  thinking.  §  437.  Reasoning  involve! 
judgment— Is  itself  an  act  of  judgment — Immediate  or  direct  judgments — Mediate  or  indirect 


«  TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

i 

judgments— Reasoning  inductive  and  deductive— The  two  distinguished.  §  438.  The  two  process- 
es often  conjoined— Often  very  intimately  blended.  §  439.  Reasoning,  an  act  of  knowledge  and 
of  thought. 

Deduction  and  the  Syllogism. 443 

§  440,  Agreement  and  differences  of  opinion— Our  discussion  psychological,  not  logical 
or  metaphysical.  §  441  The  process  and  the  product — The  Enthymeme  and  the  Syllogism — 
The  middle  term ;  its  significance.  §  442.  Is  the  Syllogism  a  or  the  form  of  deduction  ?— 
The  Syllogism,  a  completed  process  and  product  of  deduction — Possible  changes  in  the  form 
of  the  Syllogism.  §  443.  Problem  or  question  proposed — The  middle  term  significant — The  dictum 
of  Aristotle — The  maxim  of  Hamilton — Dictum  of  agreement  or  non-agreement  of  the  terms — • 
Dictum  of  substitution— Dictum  of  J.  S.  Mill— How  related  to  the  dictum  of  Hamilton.  §  444. 

None  of  these  dicta  satisfactory — The  Syllogism  not  a  petitio   principii The  Syllogism  not 

identical  with  induction— Class  relations  do  not  explain  either  process— Whately's  doctrine  of 
the  Syllogism.  §445.  The  relation  of  reason  to  consequent — Is  a  relation  of  concepts  to  con  • 
cepts.  §  446.  Depends  on  the  relation  of  causes  and  laws — How  does  this  relation  become  a  rea- 
•sou  ?— View  of  Aristotle — The  scholastic  logicians — Leibnitz  an  exception.  §  447.  The  reason  or 
ground  wider  than  cause  or  law.  §  448.  Relation  of  causes  to  law.  §  449.  Geometrical  reasons 
§  450  Immediate  Syllogisms. 

CHAPTER  VII.— REASONING.— VARIETIES  OF  DEDUCTION.      .    .      454 

§  451.  The  varieties  are  three;  these  subdivided.  §  452.  Probable  reasoning  defined— The 
epithet  explained  and  qualified — Founded  upon  causes  and  laws— In  the  sphere  of  matter — In  the 
sphere  of  spirit— In  history — In  the  legal  argument — Why  more  satisfactory  in  matter  than  in  spirit. 
§  453.  Mathematical  reasoning — The  entities  or  beings  to  which  it  relates— These  entities  are  con- 
cepts— Their  properties  not  material  nor  spiritual.  §  454.  Can  be  expanded  in  propositions  of 
content— Definitions  postulates.  §  455.  Mathematical  propositions  of  extent.  §  456.  Axioms  of 
two  kinds— How  far  applicable  to  Arithmetic  and  Geometry — Analytic  and  synthetic  axioms — 
Mathematical  definitions  self-explaining — Do  axioms  or  definitions  sustain  deduction?  §  457. 
The  construction  of  geometrical  figures  ;  Auxiliary  lines — Tentative  processes  often  required — 
New  constructions  furnish  new  material — Geometrical  reasoning  resolved  into  construction — Also 
into  induction — By  others  purely  hypothetical.  §  458.  Geometrical  quantities  measurable — Mis 
application  of  this  fact.  §  459.  Geometrical  reasoning  explained  by  an  example— Generalization 
in  the  process— Deduction  in  arithmetic  and  algebra.  §  460.  Immediate  Syllogisms — Examples — 
Opposition — Conversion.  §  461.  On  what  does  the  reasoning  rest? — All  deduction  is  logical ; 
Logical  laws— Technical  logical  deduction — Hypothetical  reasoning.  §  462.  Two  elements  in 
most  acts  of  deduction— The  invention  and  establishment  of  middle  terms— Often  the  most  impor- 
tant part  of  the  process.  §  463.  Does  deduction  add  to  our  knowledge  ? — What  a  man  may  need 
to  be  taught — Deduction,  in  fact,  enlarges  our  knowledge — Deduction  may  not  teach  new  facta 
§  464.  The  knowledge  of  relations  more  important. 

CHAPTER  VIII. — INDUCTIVE  REASONING  OB  INDUCTION.        .          469 

§  465.  Inadequate  definition  of  induction — Inductions  of  this  kind  cannot  be  used  in  deduction 
— Such  inductions  styled  the  purely  or  only  logical.  §  466.  Examples  of  proper  induction.  §  467. 
Such  inductions  are  constantly  made.  §  468.  In  what  respects  inductions  differ  from  simple 
judgments.  §  469.  Relation  of  experience  to  induction — Caution  to  be  used  in  these  judgments. 
§  470.  Importance  of  a  correct  theory  of  induction — Examples  of  inductions  of  common  life. 
§  471.  The  inductions  of  science — Franklin's  induction  of  electricity — Dr.  Black's  discovery  of 
carbonic  acid  gas — Lavoisier's  discovery  of  oxygen — Dalton's  induction  of  chemical  equivalents 
— Davy's  discovery  of  potassium,  etc.— Induction  of  the  identity  of  the  electric  and  chemical  forces. 
§472.  The  order  of  thought  in  these  inductions — -Discoveries  in  theoretical  astronomy ;  Coperni- 
cus—Preparations for  the  discovery  of  Newton — Process  by  which  Newton  came  to  his  induction. 
§  473.  Why  inductions  in  physics  are  the  most  striking — Do  not  differ  from  those  of  common  life 
\  474.  Why  are  the  inductions  of  science  more  difficult?  §  475.  The  indications  less  obtrusive 


TABLE   OF    CONTENTS.  XXI 

476  Require  more  discriminating  observations.  §477.  The  induct  ons  of  science  more  com- 
prehensive. §  478  Recognize  mathematical  relations.  §  479.  One  induction  prepares  the  way 
for  another.  §480.  The  problem  of  induction  remains  unsolved.  §481.  Certain  relations  a  priori 
must  be  assumed.  §482.  Natural  to  ask  what  truths  are  implied.  §483.  Relation  of  substance 
and  attribute.  §  484.  Relations  of  causation.  §  485.  The  reality  of  time  and  space,  and  their 
relations.  §  486.  That  some  properties  indicate  others — The  uniformity  of  the  powers  and  laws 
of  nature — The  alleged  ground  of  such  uniformity.  §  487.  That  adaptation  rules  in  nature — Two 
species  of  adaptation.  §  488.  Similarity  of  the  human  and  divine  intellect.  §  489.  The  three 
rules  of  induction — These  are  rules  for  experiment — Relation  of  these  rules  to  common  sense— 
They  presuppose  an  hypothesis  or  suggestion.  §  490.  What  suggests  the  hypothesis  or  prudent 
quwstio — Some  say  no  answer  can  be  given.  §  491.  The  attention  must  be  familiar  with  the 
objects.  §  492.  The  relations  of  objects  must  be  attended  to  §  493.  Both  objects  and  relations 
must  be  familiar  to  the  mind.  §  494.  The  constructive  imagination  must  be  employed — The 
memory  must  be  tenacious  and  ready — A  mind  quick  and  ready  to  recall  and  construct;  Accident 
— A  lively  curiosity  must  be  present.  §  495.  A  wise  judgment  must  decide  between  hypotheses 
—By  what  standard.  §  496.  The  intellect's  appeals  to  itself.  §  497.  Kepler's  saying— Who  is  the 
most  successful  interpreter  of  nature?  §498.  The  capacity  of  ready  deduction.  §499.  The 
experiment,  its  place  and  importance — Relation  of  experiment  to  observation.  §  500.  Lord 
Bacon's  eminent  services. 

CHAPTER  IX. — SCIENTIFIC  ARRANGEMENT. — THE  SYSTEM.        .       494 

§  5Q1.  The  simplest  example  of  a  system.  §  502.  A  notion  applied  in  its  content  and  extent. 
§  503.  Notions  which  indicate  permanent  properties  or  laws.  §  504.  When  established  by  indue- 
ti«n  and  applied  in  deduction.  §  505.  Properties  which  explain  and  predict  phenomena.  §  506. 
Scientific  system  more  or  less  widely  applicable.  §  507.  Systems  of  abstract  concepts  and  rules. 


PART  FOURTH. 

INTUITION  AND  INTUITIVE  KNOWLEDGE. 
CHAPTER  I. — THE  INTUITIONS  DEFINED  AND  ENUMERATED.       .      497 

§  508.  Certain  assumptions  implied  in  induction — Also  in  the  other  processes  of  knowledge— 
Also  in  the  definition  of  knowledge.  §  509.  We  enter  upon  the  critical  stage  of  our  studies — We 
turn  the  power  of  thought  back  upon  all  the  intellectual  processes.  §  510.  Relation  of  these  in- 
quiries to  metaphysical  investigations.  §  511.  We  do  not  learn  the  intuitions  by  the  ordinary 
powers  and  processes — They  have  been  referred  to  a  separate  faculty.  §  512.  The  appellatiors  by 
which  they  are  known — Difference  of  opinion  in  respect  to  these  intuitions— Described  in  vague 
and  figurative  language — Relation  of  first  principles  to  intuitions  and  categories.  §  513.  Not  ac- 
quired first  in  the  order  of  time — Locke's  discussion  of  innate  propositions  and  ideas — It  is  im- 
possible that  the  propositions  or  their  elements  should  be  apprehended  so  early — They  are,  in  fact, 
attained  last  in  the  order  of  time.  §  514.  They  stand  first  in  logical  importance — Various  signifi- 
cations of  the  term  principle — A  constituent  element  called  a  principle — A  causal  agent — A  premise 
— especially  the  major  premise— A  truth  or  law  generalized  by  induction — The  ultimate  truths  of 
any  science  or  art.  §  515.  Preeminently  concepts  and  relations  that  are  ultimate  in  knowledge — 
The  infinite  and  the  absolute  are  principles.  §  516.  The  relation  of  intuition  to  experience— Tes- 
timony of  Leibnitz,  Reid,  Kant — Testimony  of  Cousin— Successive  forms  in  which  they  are  evolv' 
ed — They  are  apprehended  in  the  concrete,  not  in  the  abstract — They  are  best  expressed  in  propo 
sitions— These  propositions  are  singular,  not  general — These  propositions  pass  into  concepts— The 
condition  of  generalizing  these  propositions  and  concepts — Relation  of  these  to  other  generaliza- 
iions.  §  517.  Stages  by  which  they  are  developed— First  stage,  the  apprehension  of  the  concreti 
object— The  second,  of  the  objects  as  related— Third,  the  apprehension  of  the  relation  abstracted— 


SX11  TABLE    OF    CONTENTS. 

The  fourth,  apprehension  of  the  relation  as  fundamental — The  fifth,  apprehension  of  correlate*. 
§  518.  Explains  why  they  are  distinctly  known  by  so  few — Tested  by  the  language  of  meu. 
§  519.  Recognized  in  the  actions  when  denied  in  theory.  §  520.  Criteria — They  are  universal — First 
truths  are  necessary — They  are  independent  of  other  truths.  §  521.  They  are  not  discovered  by 
induction.  §  522.  They  are  not  major  premises  for  syllogisms — In  their  nature  cannot  prove  any 
thing.  §  523.  They  are  independent  of  one  another — Hegel's  development  of  the  categories- 
Why  they  seem  to  be  dependent  on  one  another.  §  524.  Distinguished  into  three  classes — Why 
difficult  to  determine  and  classify  them.  §  525.  The  formal  categories.  §  526.  The  mathematical 
or  logical  essence.  §  527.  The  real  categories. 

CHAPTER  II. — THEORIES  or  INTUITIVE  KNOWLEDGE,        .        .        517 

§  528.  The  theory  of  a  direct  mental  vision  of  first  truths.  §  529.  The  theory  that  they  are 
discerned  by  the  light  of  nature.  §  530.  That  they  are  innate  or  connate.  §  531.  The  views  of 
Locke  and  his  school — Locke's  views  of  innate  ideas — His  statements  were  unguarded — His  twc 
sources  of  knowledge — Condillac  and  other  disciples— Hume's  relation  to  Locke— The  Associational 
School— Dr.  Reid  and  the  Scottish  School— The  French  School  §  532— Kant  and  his  School. 
§  538.  Criticism  of  Kant's  sceptical  conclusions — The  conclusion  is  purely  speculative — Unsup- 
ported by  analogy — It  is  self- destructive  and  suicidal.  §  534.  Hamilton's  Positive  and  Negative 
Necessity.  §  535.  The  theory  of  Faith  as  contrasted  with  knowledge — Sanctioned  by  Descartes — By 
Kant  in  his  Practical  Reason — By  Jacobi  under  various  titles — Schleiermacher's  feeling  of  depen- 
dence—Chalybaeus,  Reiff,  and  Lotze — This  theory  sanctioned  by  Hamilton  also — Reasons  why  it  is 
plausible.  §  536.  J.  G.  Fichte.  §  537.  Schelling's  view  of  the  categories.  §  538*  Hegel's  theory 
of  pure  thought.  §  539.  Herbart's  Theory.  §  540.  Trendelenburg's  theory  of  motion. 

CHAPTER  III.— FORMAL  RELATIONS  OF  CATEGORIES,          .         .     526 

§  541.  The  category  of  being — In  what  sense  fundamental — Beings  of  different  sorts — Being 
apprehended  in  different  ways.  §  542.  The  most  abstract  of  all  the  categories— Explained  by 
concrete  being — Psychologically  concrete  being  is  first  apprehended — Logically,  it  is  fundamental. 
§  543.  The  apprehension  of  being  expressed  in  propositions— Being  not  a  relation  or  attribute. 
§  544.  It  cannot  be  defined — It  is  conceived  and  spoken  of  as  an  attribute.  §  545.  A  wholly  inde- 
terminate concept — Hegel  makes  being  equal  to  nothing — Not  without  signification.  §  546.  Rela* 
tionship ;  Diversity — Diversity  the  most  extensive — Present  in  all  forms  of  knowledge.  §  547. 
Expressed  in  a  proposition — Relative  notions ;  Negative  notions — At  first  individual,  afterwards 
generalized— The  concept  nothing— Hegel's  view  of  nothing — The  error  of  Hegel — Xenophanea 
and  Spinoza — Substance  and  attribute  formally  conceived.  §  548.  The  relation  of  identity — Affirm- 
ed of  mental  existence— Or  of  material — Of  a  purely  mental  product — The  law  of  identity,  etc.,  in 
logic — Concern  the  relations  of  concepts  to  concepts — The  law  of  identity  guards  against  a  twofold 
danger — Uses  and  aims  of  the  law  of  identity — Logical  founded  on  real  identity.  §  549.  The  law 
of  contradiction— Excluded  middle.  §  550.  Misapplication  of  the  law  of  identity — Kant  resolved 
these  laws  into  forms  of  thought — Schelling  and  Hegel's  view  of  identity. 

CHAPTER  IY. — MATHEMATICAL  RELATIONS  :  TIME  AND  SPACE.       .     537 

I.  Extension  as  given  in  Sense-Perception;  or,  the  Relations  of  Matter  which 
introduce  and  require  the  Knowledge  of  Space 537 

§  551.  All  matter  is  known  as  extended — The  extension  at  first  blended  with  matter.  §  552.  De- 
velopment of  the  several  relations  of  extension — Void  or  inclosing  space — Matter  incloses  void 
space ;  is  movable  ;  has  place  and  direction.  §  553.  Analysis  resolves  these  relations  one  by  one— 
Suggests  many  inquiries. 

n.  Of  Time  as  apprehended  in  Consciousness;  or,  the  relations  of  Events  which 

introduce  and  involve  the  Knowledge  of  Time.        ....        539 

j|  554.  Duration  how  related  to  the  acts  of  the  soul — The  acts  of  the  soul  not  distinguished  at 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

flrst.  §  555.  The  continuance  of  two  classes  of  activities — The  \  resent,  past,  and  future.  §  556. 
Duration  void  of  events — Consciousness  carefully  defined. 

m.  Of  Mutual  Relations  of  Extended  and  Enduring  Objects.        .        .        541 

§  557.  The  mind  discerns  extended  and  enduring  objects  together — But  not  with  equal  atten- 
tion. §558.  Duration  transferred  to  mathematical  phenomena.  §  559.  The  measures  of  duration 
taken  from  extended  being — The  language  of  duration  taken  from  the  same. 

iv.  The  Relations  of  Quantity  as  applicable  to  Space  and  Time  Objects.        543 

§  560.  Extended  objects  measure  one  another — Enduring  psychical  phenomena  do  the  same 
§  561.  Measurement  requires  number — The  relation  of  number,  how  developed — Relations  of 
number.  §  562.  The  relation  of  number  defined. 

v.  Of  Extended  and  Enduring  Objects  as  imaged  or  represented  ;  or,  Space  and 
Time  Objects  as  enlarged  and  measured  by  Imagination.        .        .      545 

§  563.  Limitations  of  sense-perception — Within  these  limits  we  divide  as  we  please.  §564. 
Beyond  these  we  use  the  imagination — How  the  child  imagines  distant  objects — The  uncul- 
tivated man.  §  565.  Measures  of  time-objects  imaginary— Different  capacities  in  different  men 
— Differences  in  the  estimates  of  time — Estimates  of  space  and  time  in  dreams.  §  566.  Measure- 
ments which  involve  number  and  magnitude — Whence  standards  for  both  are  derived — How  thej 
are  pictured. 

vi.   Of  Space  and  Time  Objects  as  generalized  ;  or,  the  Concepts  of  the  Relation* 
of  Objects  to  Time  and  Space 550 

§  567.  How  the  relations  of  space  and  time  objects  are  generalized.  §  568.  These  relations  in- 
dividual and  general. 

vn.  Of  Mathematical  Quantity  ;  the  Process  by  which  its  Concepts  are  Evolved, 
and  their  Relations  to  Time  and  Space 551 

§  569.  Two  classes  of  mathematical  concepts — How  geometrical  concepts  are  originated. 
§  570.  Rest  on  what  assumptions — Postulates  of  Geometrical  quantity.  §  571.  Conditions  of  the 
concepts  of  number — Relations  of  number  can  be  symbolized  by  any  objects.  §  572.  The  prin- 
cipal concepts  of  number.  §  573.  The  application  of  number  to  magnitude. 

vin.     Of   the  Application  of   Mathematical   Conceptions   to  Material  Phe- 
nomena. ........       554 

§  574.  Why  and  how  far  mathematical  concepts  are  applicable  to  material  objects — Ex- 
ample in  Mechanics — Newton's  great  laws  of  Mechanics.  §  575.  All  material  objects  susceptible 
of  mathematical  relations — Applications  to  chemistry — To  light  and  optics — To  sound  and  acous- 
tics— To  heat — The  doctrine  of  the  correlation  of  forces. 

ix.   Of  the  Application  of  Mathematical  Relations  to  Psychical  Phenomena.  557 
§  576.  Application  of  mathematics  to  the  science  of  the  soul ;  arguments  for  it — Arguments 
against  this  view. 

x.  The  Relation  of  Time  and  Space  Concepts  to  Motion.  .  .  .  558 
§  577.  Can  time  and  space  relations,  etc.,  be  still  further  generalized? — The  universality  of 
motion  suggests  space-relations — Also  the  relations  of  position  and  of  rest — Absolute  relations  of 
time — Time-relations  ;  how  suggested  by  motion — Also  mathematical  quantities — In  what  sense 
us  motion  the  condition  of  generalization  ?— Two  objections ;  first,  that  motion  supposes  Space 
and  Time — Their  relations  to  motion  not  necessarily  adverted  to — It  is  urged  that  the  rates 


XXIV  TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

of  motion  are  sstimated  by  time — Second  objection,  that  direction  is  required  as  well  as  motion. 
§578.  Extended  and  enduring  objects  are  limited — Mathematics  recognizes  measurable  and 
therefore  definite  quantity. 

xi.    Of  Space  and  Time,  as  Infinite  and  Unconditioned.         .        .         .        562 

§  579.  Extension  and  duration  distinguished  from,  but  related  to  space  and  time— These  rela- 
tions not  always  distinctly  adverted  to — Discerned  at  the  last  of  the  stages  of  Intellectual  develop- 
ment. §  580.  They  limit  objects  and  events.  §  581.  Extension  and  duration  affirmed  of  things  an«l 
events  only.  §  582.  In  what  sense  Space  and  Time  are  unlimited — They  are  not  simply  negatively 
related — Antinomies  of  Hamilton  and  Kant.  §  583.  Space  and  Time  cannot  be  generalized  under 
higher  concepts.  §  584.  They  cannot  properly  be  defined — Proved  by  language.  §  585.  They 
are  known  as  the  conditions  of  their  limited  correlates — Are  themselves  the  correlates  of  the  ex- 
tended and  enduring — What  are  space  and  time? — They  are  not  substances — Nor  are  they 
material  or  spiritual  properties;  they  are  not  relations — Nor  are  they  subjective  forms  of  the  intel- 
lect— Kant's  doctrine  open  to  two  objections — How  space  and  time  are  knowable. 

CHAPTER  V. — CAUSATION  AND  THE  RELATION  or  CAUSATION.      .     569 

§  586.  Causation  as  a  principle  and  as  a  law — How  the  two  are  stated — Tautology  to  be  avoid- 
ed— Power  and  law,  how  distinguished.  §  587.  What  is  an  event  ? — Events  in  the  material  world 
— In  the  vegetable  and  animal  world — In  the  mental  world— In  the  production  of  new  beings. 
§588.  Many  events  are  combined  of  several — Every  cause  is  an  acting  being.  §589.  Causes  distin- 
guished from  conditions — When  conditions  are  laws.  §  590.  The  principle  of  causality  intuitive- 
ly evident — Ground  of  explaining  events — Ground  of  seeking  to  account  for  an  event  unexplained 
— Ground  of  prediction — Ground  of  curiosity— Relation  to  thought  and  scientific  processes- 
Confirmed  by  language — Meets  all  the  criteria  of  a  first  principle.  §  591.  Resolved  by  many  into 
a  time-relation — The  Theory  of  Hume;  its  importance — The  Theory  of  Hume  as  briefly  summed 
up — Does  not  profess  to  be  universal  in  its  application — Why  it  fails  to  satisfy  the  mind — A  special 
application  of  his  general  theory — The  Theory  of  Dr.  Thomas  Brown — The  Theory  of  John  Stuart 
Mill — Summary  of  Mill's  Theory;  its  relations  to  the  theories  of  Hume  and  Brown.  §  592.  Time- 
relations  attend,  but  do  not  constitute  the  causal — Time-relations  cannot  explain  deduction — Seven 
theories  counter  to  our  own  §  593.  Causation  inexplicable  by  Induction  or  association — The  ad- 
vocates overlook  the  real  question — Experience  cannot  go  beyond  its  own  limits — Induction  as- 
sumes and  requires  the  belief  to  be  original — Much  less  explicable  by  association.  §  594.  Not 
resolvable  into  outward  or  inner  experience,  or  both ;  Locke's  view — The  theory  in  all  its  forms 
untenable— Relations  of  the  doctrines  of  Locke  to  those  of  Hume  and  Mill — Inconsistent  with 
Locke's  doctrine  of  knowledge — Hume's  objection  to  the  doctrine  of  Locke.  §  595.  Theories  of 
Royer-Collard  and  M.  de  Biran.  §  598.  Is  the  theory  correct? — 1.  Do  we  gain  the  notion  of  pow- 
er from  consciousness?— 2.  Do  we  make  it  universal  by  natural  induction? — De  Biran 's  view  of 
first  principles.  §  597.  We  image  our  concepts  of  causality  by  conscious  experience — The  infer- 
ences of  children  and  savages  explained.  §  598.  Inferences  from  the  theory  that  causation  per- 
tains only  to  spirit — Material  causes  called  self-contradictory.  §  599.  Objections  to  this  doctrine 
— Would  make  the  conception  of  body  impossible.  §  600.  It  has  been  inferred  that  there  is  but 
one  agent  in  the  universe.  §  601.  The  theory  which  resolves  causality  into  a  relation  of  concepts 
• — Resolved  into  the  principle  of  contradiction — Its  relation  to  the  principle  of  the  Sufficient  Reason 
— Influence  of  the  Kantian  doctrine — Carried  to  its  extreme  by  Hegel— Objections  to  his  reason- 
ing. §  602.  Hamilton's  theory  of  causation — Mansel's  version  of  the  same — The  relation  of  both 
to  Kant.  §  603.  Objections ;  Elements  of  existence  not  indestructible — The  impossibility  to 
think  of  change  logical,  not  real — Does  not  explain  psychical  causality — Incompatible  with 
creation.  §  604.  Theory  of  expectation  of  constancy  of  nature — Conclusion  :  Our  position 
reaffirmed. 

CHAPTER  VI.— DESIGN  OK  FINAL  CAUSE.  592 


§  605.  Terms  explained ;  Formal,  material,  efficient,  and  final  causes.     §  6C6.  Design  and 
adaptation,  how  related— The  relation  assumed   as  necessary  and  a  priori— The  kind  of  knowl 


TABLE   OF   CONTENTS.  XXTf 

edge  which  rests  upon  efficient  causation.  §  607.  Can  final  cause  be  similarly  applied  ? — Such 
an  application  conceded  to  be  desirable.  §  608.  Reasons;  The  mind  impelled  to  connect  objects 
by  this  relation.  §  609.  The  relation  is  higher  than  that  of  efficient  causation.  §  610.  The  prin- 
ciple has  been  of  service  in  scientific  discovery — Harvey's  discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the 
blood — Cuvier's  application  of  it  in  comparative  anatomy.  §  611.  The  Foundation  of  the  Induc- 
tive Philosophy.  §  612.  Required  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  organic  existences — Mechanical 
forces  and  laws  do  not  dispense  with  it — The  vital  force  does  not  set  it  aside — Relations  of  adapta- 
tion alone  sufficient.  §  613.  Relation  of  final  to  efficient  causes  in  the  higher  orders  of  being — 
The  one  does  not  displace  the  other.  §  614.  Objections:  (1.)  Men  mistake  in  their  judgments 
about  final  causes.  §  615.  (2.)  Our  interpretations  can  neither  be  tested  nor  confirmed — Not  en- 
tirely unlike  in  their  operation  or  phenomena.  §  616.  (3.)  This  relation  derived  from  conscious 
experience — The  same  is  true  of  that  of  efficient  causation — Not  unphilosophical  to  transfer  it 
from  consciousness — The  relation  unquestioned  in  some  applications.  §  617.  (4.)  Two  principles 
tatroduced  into  philosophy  which  may  possibly  conflict — Final  causes  claim  the  precedence. 
S  618.  (5.)  The  search  after  final  causes  has  hindered  discovery — Real  meaning  of  Bacon — It  is 
fruitful  of  scientific  progress.  §  619.  (6.)  The  adaptations  of  nature  are  only  the  conditions  of 
oxistence.  §  620.  Reply;  The  truth  is  a  priori,  not  derived  from  experience— Experience  gives 
»ss  more  than  the  conditions  of  mere  existence.  §  621.  (7.)  Adaptation  is  limited  to  organic  exist- 
ence. §  622.  (8.)  We  are  not  warranted  in  affirming  it  of  all  kinds  of  existence.  §  623.  (9.) 
Adaptation  cannot  be  affirmed  of  an  unlimited  Being.  §  624.  The  principle  is  illustrated  and 
confirmed  by  its  applications.  §  625.  Is  applied  in  metaphysical  science  itself— In  the  formation 
of  concepts.  §  626.  In  the  systemization  of  concepts.  §  627.  In  the  definition  of  an  individual 
§  628.  As  a  criterion  of  truth  and  a  rule  of  certitude.  §  629.  Applied  in  geometrical  construc- 
tion and  deduction — In  applied  geometry — In  applied  numbers.  §  630.  Applied  in  geology,  etc.— 
Its  importance  in  geology.  §  631.  Applied  in  philosophical  geography.  §  632.  Adapted  to  com- 
parative anatomy.  §  633.  Applied  to  physiology;  In  the  animal  structure  generally — In  its 
adaptation  to  the  disposition  and  functions  of  the  animal — In  protection  against  injury  and  expo- 
sure. §  634.  Applied  in  anthropology — In  the  provisions  for  and  the  capacities  of  language — Re- 
lations of  language  to  society.  §  635.  Applied  to  psychology — Of  special  importance  in  this  science. 
—Explains  the  differing  periods  of  development — Explains  why  the  rational  faculty  is  supreme. 
§  636.  Applied  and  assumed  in  ethics — The  adaptations  chiefly  psychical.  §  637.  Application  to 
theology — Argument  for  the  Divine  existence  in  its  usual  form.  §  638.  Two  classes  of  opinions 
in  respect  to  the  Divine  existence;  the  first  rejects  personality.  §  639.  The  second  accepts  a 
personal  God — Objections — Answers — Intermediate  agencies  do  not  disprove  personality — Efficient 
causation  consistent  with  intermediate  agencies.  §  640.  The  relation  of  efficient  to  final  cause. 

CHAPTER  VII. — SUBSTANCE  AND  ATTRIBUTE  :  MIND  AND  MATTER  .  619 

§  641.  Substance  distinguished  from  the  logical  and  grammatical  subject.  §  642.  The  etymology  ol 
the  terms ;  first  of  substance— Etymology  of  attribute,  quality,  etc.  §  643.  Obscurity  and  diversitj 
of  opinion  in  regard  to  the  relation — Locke's  view  of  substance  and  attribute — Views  of  Hume— 
Of  Reid— Of  Kant— Of  Whewell. 

i.  Substance  in  the  Abstract.      .  .  .  ,  •  •  622 

§  644.  Substance  in  the  abstract ;  how  defined. 

ii.  Of  Attribute  in  the  Abstract.  ...»  628 

§  645.  Attribute  in  the  abstract  defined— Substance  and  attribute  in  the  concrete. 

ra.  Mental  or  Spiritual  Substance.  .  ...»        624 

§  646.  Spiritual  or  mental  substance,  misconceived— To  know,  feel,  and  will,  are  causative 
energies— These  referred  to  the  ego  as  cause.  §  647.  Unconscious  psychical  powers  are  causative. 
§  648.  Attributes  of  design  in  the  soul— Individual  attributes  of  the  soul— How  far  the  ego  the 
type  of  all  substance.  §  649.  Human  spiritual  substance  defined— Certain  causative  attributes 
are  its  faculties — Mr.  Mill's  conception  of  the  soul. 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS. 

IY,  Material  Substance.  .  ,  627 

§  650.  Material  substance  defined — Its  trinal  extension— Impenetrability — Its  several  sensible 
qualities — Can  matter  cause  perceptions  as  distinguished  from  sensations  ?  §  651.  Matter  is 
known  to  be  or  to  exist.  §  652.  The  so-called  properties  of  matter — These  attributes  distinguish 
and  define,  but  do  not  constitute  matter.  §  653.  Space  occupation  by  matter — Permanence  of 
apace  occupation.  §  654.  Identity  of  material  substance — An  individual  material  substance ;  how 
defined?  §  655.  The  production  of  neve  substances — Ultimate  particles  or  elements — The  real 
essence  of  Philosophy,  or  the  Thing  in  itself.  §  656.  A  material  substance  not  necessarily  inde- 
pendent— Not  indestructible.  §657.  Our  belief  in  its  permanence  grounded  in  design — Dogmas 
that  seem  to  deny  permanence. 

v.  The  Mutual  Relations  of  Material  and  Spiritual  Substance  next  claim  our 
attention.  ......  .  634 

§  658.  The  reciprocal  relations  of  material  and  spiritual  substance — Mind  and  matter  directly- 
known — Reflex  knowledge  of  both ;  necessary  but  difficult.  §  659.  Matter  known  as  being  in 
order  to  be  known  as  cause — Being,  spiritual  or  material,  cannot  be  defined.  §  660.  Dualism  of 
matter  and  mind  overcome  by  unity  of  thought. 

vi.  The  Primary  and  Secondary  Qualities  of  Matter.        ....      637 

§  661.  Twofold  and  threefold  classification— Aristotle's  classification— That  of  Descartes. 
§662.  Classification  of  Locke.  §663.  Of  Reid.  §664.  Of  Dugald  Stewart.  §665.  Of  Sir  William 
Hamilton — The  primary  and  Secundo-Primary — The  Secondary  Qualities — The  relation  of  the 
three  to  the  notion  of  matter.  §  666.  The  Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  distinguishable — The 
Secundo-Primary  not  satisfactorily  established — Hamilton's  locomotive  energy.  §  667-  Matter  as 
being,  how  related  to  the  Primary  qualities.  §  668.  Two  questions  still  remain — Are  the  primary 
qualities  essential  to  the  notion  of  matter  ?  §  669.  Do  they  give  a  real  knowledge  ? 

vu.   Of  ihe  Heal  as  Opposed  to  the  Phenomenal 640 

§  670.  Phenomenal  distinguished  from  the  real  in  the  first  sense — In  the  second  sense — In  the 
last  sense  nothing  directly  perceived  is  real.  §  671.  Not  even  what  we  know  by  the  mind — Kant's 
doctrine  of  the  real  and  phenomenal — Hamilton's  doctrine,  §  672.  The  assumptions  of  Kant  and 
Hamilton  criticised.  §  673.  The  same  questions  arise  in  common  life.  §  674.  How  best  resolved. 
§  675.  We  distinguish  objects  as  perceived  and  as  explained.  §  676.  The  relations  of  the  intellect 
cannot  be  distrusted. 

CHAPTER   VIIL— THE  FINITE  AND  CONDITIONED.— THE  INFINITE  AND 
ABSOLUTE 645 

i.  The  Finite  and  Conditioned 645 

§  677.  To  know  a  limiting  process — Illustrated  by  sense-perception — By  acts  of  imagination 
and  memory — By  the  processes  of  thought.  §  678.  The  finite  universe ;  how  conceived — What  it 
us  to  know  the  universe.  §  679.  The  finite  universe  is  limited — It  is  also  conditioned. 

n.  The  Infinite  and  the  Absolute, — their  Relations  to  the  Finite  and  Dependent.  647 
§  680.  The  import  of  the  terms  must  be  considered.  §  681.  The  signification  of  the  infinite — Trans- 
iGrred  from  quantity  to  power — As  many  senses  of  the  infinite  as  of  the  finite.  §  682.  The  uncon- 
ditioned is  the  non-conditioned.  §683.  Primary  meaning  of  the  conditioned — Applied  to  quantity 
— The  unconditioned  means  not  dependent — Special  sense  with  Hamilton.  §  684.  The  absolute, 
several  senses  of— The  Hegelian  sense.  §  685.  The  three  used  in  the  concrete  and  in  the  ab- 
stract— The  sense  in  question  should  be  exactly  known.  §  686.  The  absolute,  etc.,  not  negative 
conceptions — Arguments  of  Hamilton  and  others — The  arguments  not  valid.  §  687.  Not  the 
objects  or  products  of  negative  thinking — Arguments  of  Hamilton  and  Mansel — Their  conclusioni 


TABLE    OF   CONTENTS.  XXVli 

untenable.  §  688.  The  absolute,  etc.,  not  unrelated — Argument  of  Spinoza,  etc. — Reply.  §  689. 
The  absolute,  etc.,  not  the  total  of  being— This  view  not  required— The  total  of  finite  being  not 
infinite — The  absolute  not  a  matter  of  quantity;  the  proper  absolute.  §690.  The  absolute,  etc., 
not  devoid  of  interior  relations.  §  691.  The  absolute,  etc.,  areknowable — Views  of  Kant,  Hamil- 
ton, and  Mansel — Herbert  Spencer  dissents  from  these — Hobbes  on  the  infinite.  §  692.  The 
absolute  cannot  be  known  by  the  imagination — The  proposition  qualified — Why  of  no  use  to 
image  the  absolute — The  antinomies  of  Kant  and  Hamilton.  §  693.  The  absolute,  etc.,  cannot 
be  deduced  or  logically  defined.  §  694.  The  absolute  the  correlate  of  the  finite — Of  course,  related 
to  the  universe — Relations  do  not  involve  limitation.  §  695.  The  absolute  apprehended  by  the 
intellect.  §696.  Not  known  exhaustively  or  adequately — The  finite  universe  infinite  to  otur 
knowledge.  §  697.  Self-existence  common  to  the  finite  and  the  infinite.  §  693.  The  absolute  * 
thinking  agent.  §  699.  Must  be  assumed  to  explain  thought  and  science. 


INTEODUOTIOK 
PSYCHOLOGY    AND    THE    SOUL. 


PSYCHOLOGY  DEFINED   AND  VINDICATED. 

§  1.  Psychology  is  the  scieDce  of  the  human  soul.  The 
appellation  is  of  comparatively  recent  use  by  English  writers, 
but  has  been  familiar  in  its  Latin  and  German  equivalents — 
Psychologia  and  Psychologie — to  writers  on  the  Continent,  for  more  than 
two  centuries.  It  is  now  generally  accepted  and  approved  among  us  as 
the  most  appropriate  term  to  denote  the  scientific  knowledge  of  the  whole 
soul,  as  distinguished  from  a  single  class  of  its  endowments  or  functions. 
The  terms  hi  frequent  use — mental  philosophy,  the  philosophy  of  the 
mind,  intellectual  philosophy,  etc. — can  be  properly  applied  only  to  the 
power  of  the  soul  to  know,  and  should  never  be  used  for  its  capacity  to 
feel  and  to  will,  or  for  all  its  endowments  collectively.  The  terms  meta- 
physics and  philosophy,  when  used  without  an  adjunct,  cannot  designate 
any  special  science,  and  therefore  are  not  properly  used  of  the  science 
which  is  concerned  with  the  nature  and  functions  of  the  human  soul. 

The  term  Psychologia  was  used  by  Otto  Cassman,  in  his  Psychologia  Anthropologica,  etc.,  1594;  also 
by  Rudolph  Goclenius,  in  i/fvxoXo-yux  h.  <?.,  de  Hominis  perfeclione,  anima  et  imprimis  orlu,  etc.,  1597  ;  vidt 
Hamilton,  Met.  Lect.  VIII.  ;  Grasse,  Biblioth.  Psychol. ;  Gumposch,  Phil.  Lit.  d.  Deutsch.,  pp.  66,  57.  Other 
reasons  axe  given  by  Hamilton  in  the  Lecture  referred  to,  for  preferring  psychology,  particularly  that  it 
wLmits  the  adjective  psychological. 

The  words  mind  and  mental  have  been  used  by  English  writers  to  denote  the  soul's  capacities  to  know, 
led,  and  will,  but  with  a  more  or  less  distinct  apprehension  of  the  impropriety,  it  being  generally  conceded 
that  these  terms  signify  the  cognitive  or  intellectual  function.  Intellectual  philosophy  is  a  term  too 
precise  to  admit  any  mistake  in  regard  to  its  import  or  application.  Moral  science,  moral  philosophy,  and 
*till  more  frequently  the  moral  sciences,  have  been  need  most  improperly  as  including  the  philosophy  oJ 
the  intellect.  In  this  improper  application,  the  word  moral  is  interchanged  with  spiritual  or  psychical. 

§  2.  Psychology  is  a  science.  It  professes  to  exhibit 
Psychology  a  sd-  wna^  {s  actually  known  or  may  be  learned  concerning  the 

soul,  in  the  forms  of  science — i.  e.,  in  the  forms  of  exact 
observation,  precise  definition,  fixed  terminology,  classified  arrangement, 
and  rational  explanation.  This  it  aims  to  accomplish.  Whether  the 


6  INTRODUCTION.  §  3. 

materials  are  sufficiently  abundant  for  this  use,  or  whether  they  can  all  be 
successfully  reduced  to  these  forms,  are  inquiries  which  may  be  considered 
more  properly  hereafter.  Perhaps  they  can  be  still  more  satisfactorily 
answered  by  successful  achievement. 

It  is  the  science  of  the  soul ;  i.  e.,  the  science  which  has  the  soul  for 
its  subject-matter.  The  word  soul  differs  from  spirit  as  the  species  from 
the  genus :  soul  being  limited  to  a  spirit  that  either  is  or  has  been  con- 
nected with  a  body  or  material  organization ;  while  spirit  may  also  be 
applied  to  a  being  that  has  not  at  present,  or  is  believed  never  to  have 
had  such  connection. 

Psychology  is  usually  limited  to  the  science  of  the  human  soul,  in  its  con- 
Limited  to  the  nection  with  the  human  body,  i.  e.,  as  it  manifests  powers  and  is  the  subject 
human  soul.  Of  phenomena  in  its  present  conditions  of  existence.  It  does  not  concern 

itself,  except  incidentally,  with  inquiries  such  as  these :  How  or  when  doea 
the  soul  come  into  being  ?  Can  or  will  it  exist  under  other  conditions,  separate  from  a  body, 
or  connected  with  another  body  ?  What  powers  may  it  develop,  or  what  phenomena  may  it 
exhibit  in  another  state  or  condition  of  being?  It  simply  asks,  What  does  the  soul  achieve, 
and  what  does  it  thereby  show  itself  to  be,  while  connected  with  a  human  body  ?  or,  in  the 
language  of  science,  What  are  its  phenomena,  and  what  is  its  essential  nature,  as  manifested 
under  the  conditions  of  corporeal  and  earthly  existence  ?  It  does  not  even  occupy  itself  with 
all  these  phenomena,  but  it  limits  its  attention  almost  exclusively  to  those  higher  functions 
which  are  commonly  recognized  as  distinctively  and  preeminently  human,  to  the  neglect  of 
those  inferior  endowments  which  man  shares  with  the  lower  animals. 

The  term  soul  originally  signified  the  principle  of  life  or  motion  in  a  material  organism.  It  was  pre- 
eminently appropriated  to  the  vital  principle  or  force  which  animates  the  animal  body,  whether  in  man 
or  the  lower  animals.  Traces  of  this  signification  may  he  distinctly  discovered  in  the  threefold  division  of 
man  into  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  in  which  the  soul  occupies  the  place  between  the  corporeal  or  material 
p.irt,  and  the  spiritual  or  noetic.  This  intermediate  part  was  sometimes  called  the  animal  soul,  and  was 
believed  to  perish  with  the  body.  Hence,  the  term  spirit  was  applied  to  a  nature  that  had  never  been  fixed 
in  a  body,  or  soiled  and  degraded  by  connection  with  it.  In  the  New  Testament,  i/fu^t/cbs— psychical — is  often 
applied  to  the  body  in  the  sense  of  animal,  and  opposed  to  the  spiritual  or  higher  body.  As  applied  to  the 
affections  and  character,  it  signifies  those  which  are  lower  or  fleshly,  as  distinguished  from  those  which  are 
nobler  in  their  nature  or  origin.  Inasmuch  as  in  man  the  attention  would  naturally  be  directed  to  that 
which  gives  him  dignity,  it  is  not  surprising  that  when  the  soul  was  limited  to  man,  and  signified  the  human 
tnul,  it  came  to  designate  by  eminence  those  endowments  by  which  man  is  distinguished  from  the  animals 
instead  of  denoting,  as  previously,  those  which  he  has  in  common  with  them.  "We  recognize  somewhat  ol 
the  earlier  and  lower  meaning  in  the  phrases,  "  The  soul  of  the  universe,"  "The  soul  of  a  plant,"  "  Tht 
soul  of  an  enterprise  or  interest ;  "  t.  «.,  the  animating  principle  of  the  universe,  etc.,  etc. 

§  3.  Psychology  is   distinguished  from  physiology  and  an- 

Relations  to  phy-       ,  .  1—      ,      .  , 

Biology  and  an-  thropology.  Jooth  these  sciences  take  man  for  their  subject. 
Physiology  studies  man  as  a  material  organism ;  distinguish- 
ing the  several  organs  of  which  it  is  composed,  the  special  functions  of 
each,  and  the  combined  activity  of  all  in  a  living  being.  It  is  true  the 
structure  and  arrangement  of  some  of  these  organs  cannot  be  explained 
except  by  a  distinct  recognition  of  the  necessities  of  the  spiritual  agent. 
But  although  physiology  must  recognize  the  higher  functions  and  phenom- 
ena of  the  soul,  it  need  only  consider  those  which  are  familiarly  known. 
For  its  purposes,  the  knowledge,  the  classifications,  and  the  terminology 


S4.  PSYCHOLOGY    DEFINED    AND    VINDICATED.  * 

o 

of  common  life  arc  quite  sufficient ;  as  when  it  explains  the  structure  of 
the  eye,  the  ear,  and  the  hand,  by  their  relation  to  human  vision  and  hear 
ing,  to  tactual  or  mechanical  skill.  The  principal  and  almost  exclusive 
sphere  of  physiology  is  the  bodily  structure  and  functions,  as  phenomena 
that  can  be  observed  and  explained  with  reference  to  the  animal  economy 
or  the  laws  and  conditions  of  bodily  development  and  life. 

Anthropology,  as  the  term  imports,  treats  of  the  whole  man,  as  boclj 
and  soul.  It  differs  from  psychology  in  that  it  treats  of  these  factors  when 
combined  so  as  to  form  one  product  in  many  varieties.  Of  this  product  it 
gives  the  natural  history.  It  investigates  man  as  this  complex  whole,  as 
he  is  varied  in  temperament,  race,  sex,  and  age ;  and  as  he  is  affected 
l>y  climate,  employment,  or  a  more  or  less  perfect  civilization.  It  inquires 
now  he  is  formed  and  changed  in  body  and  in  soul  by  inherited  pecu- 
liarities and  accidental  circumstances.  It  discusses  the  influence  of  the 
*oul  upon  the  body  and  the  influence  of  the  body  on  the  soul  in  the 
iiormal  and  abnormal  states  and  functions  of  each.  But  it  notices  and 
records  the  obvious  phenomena  of  each,  only  so  far  as  they  are  open  to 
general  observation  and  require  no  scientific  analysis  or  explanation.  To 
psychology  it  leaves  the  special  and  profound  study  of  the  one  ;  to  physi- 
ology, the  more  thorough  examination  of  the  functions  of  the  other. 

A  more  exact  division  of  anthropology  separates  it  into  somatology  and  psychology. 
Somatology  signifies  the  science  of  the  body  only,  and  is  subdivided  into  anatomy  and  physi- 
ology ;  anatomy  being  the  science  of  its  structure,  and  physiology  the  science  of  the  functions 
of  its  organs.  Psychology  might  also  be  divided  into  the  lower  and  higher  psychology.  It 
has  been  distinguished  by  earlier  and  later  writers  as  empirical  and  rational,  the  first  giving 
the  facts,  the  second  the  rationale,  or  the  philosophical  interpretation  of  the  facts. 

§  4.  Psychology  is  distinguished  still  further  from  physi- 
imown  by  con-  ology  in  that  the  phenomena  with  which  it  has  to  do  are 

sciousness.  -i-i-ii  •  ••• 

apprehended  by  consciousness ;  while  the  phenomena  of 
physiology  are  discerned  by  the  senses.  Psychology  proceeds  on  the 
assumption  that  certain  facts  or  phenomena  may  be  known  by  the  soul 
concerning  itself.  The  power  of  the  soul  to  know  itself  and  its  own 
states  is  termed  consciousness.  How  the  soul  gains  this  knowledge,  and 
what  are  the  nature,  the  varieties,  and  the  aids  of  consciousness,  will  be 
considered  in  the  proper  place.  At  present  we  simply  observe,  that 
psychology  is  strikingly  distinguished  from  physiology,  in  that  it  derives 
the  materials  or  objects  of  its  knowledge  and  inquiries  from  a  source 
peculiar  to  itself. 

That  the  soul  does  know  itself,  and  confides  in  the  knowledge  thus  attained,  will  be  ac- 
knowledged by  every  one.  The  facts  are  peculiar,  differing  greatly  from,  or,  as  we  say,  being 
totally  unlike  those  which  we  gain  by  hearing,  seeing,  and  touching.  They  are  very  numer 
ous,  coming  and  going  faster  than  we  can  recall  or  describe  them.  They  are  various  in  theii 
quality,  differing  from  each  other  in  Important  features,  as  states  of  perception  from  states  of 


8  INTRODUCTION.  §  5 

emotion,  and  yet  having  this  feature  in  common,  that  they  are  known  >)  the  soul  to  whicli 
they  pertain,  and  known  to  belong  to  itself.  Seeing  differs  from  hearing.  Both  are  unlike 
remembering  and  imagining.  All  these  together  are  unlike  hoping,  fearing,  rejoicing  and 
Borrowing.  Hoping  differs  from  fearing,  and  rejoicing  is  unlike  sorrowing.  And  yet  seeing, 
hearing,  remembering,  imagining,  hoping,  fearing,  rejoicing,  and  sorrowing  are  observed  bj 
the  soul  that  experiences  these  several  states,  and  are  known  to  be  its  own. 

8  5.   These   phenomena,  so   numerous   and    peculiar,   excite 

Its    phenomena     ' 

impel  to  scien-  the  desire  and  effort  to  reduce  them  to  the  exactness  and 
symmetry  of  scientific  knowledge.  That  they  actually  occur, 
cannot  be  questioned.  No  one  doubts,  or  cares  to  deny,  that  he  thinks 
and  remembers,  that  he  hopes  and  fears.  They  are  the  most  interesting 
of  all  events  to  the  individual  who  experiences  them.  The  knowledge  and 
the  imaginings,  the  hopes  and  fears,  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  each  person, 
make  up  the  most  important  part  of  his  being.  Even  if  we  lay  out  of 
view  their  relation  to  us  as  sources  of  enjoyment  and  suffering,  our  internal 
states  go  very  far  to  decide  our  success  or  failure  in  the  business  of  life. 
What  we  accomplish  in  our  acts  and  achievements,  depends  most  of  all 
on  what  we  are  in  our  thoughts  and  aspirations,  in  our  plans  and  energy. 
The  mind,  which  we  know  so  well,  is  ever  at  our  hand  as  the  instrument 
with  which  we  execute  our  purposes  and  direct  our  acts.  The  soul  within 
us  is  the  well-spring  ever  open  at  our  door  and  springing  up  at  our  feet, 
from  which  we  draw  our  most  satisfying  joys  arid  our  bitterest  sorrows. 

Surely  phenomena  like  these  are  the  legitimate  object  of  those  scientific 

Are     legitimate     inquiries  to  which  we  are  so  powerfully  impelled.     The  phenomena  which  are 
objects    of    sci- 
ence, so  near  us  at  all  times — which  intrude  themselves  upon  our  attention  even 

when  we  desire  to  exclude  them,  which  constitute  the  world  within,  to  which 
the  man  himself  alone  has  access,  but  which  is  yet,  to  him,  more  important  than  all  the  world 
without — deserve  to  be  studied,  and,  if  possible,  to  be  scientifically  classified  and  accounted  for. 
We  naturally  ask,  How  do  they  occur  ?  By  what  powers  are  they  produced,  and  under  what 
conditions  ?  What  laws  do  they  obey  ?  What  is  the  soul ;  is  it  matter,  only  of  finer  texture 
and  more  delicate  organization  than  in  the  plant  or  animal  ?  If  it  is  not  matter,  what  is  the 
mysterious  substance  or  agent  which  works  out  these  phenomena  ?  If  spirit,  it  obviously  holda 
certain  relations  to  matter ;  what  are  they :  what  are  the  material  conditions  under  which  it 
perceives,  remembers,  thinks,  and'  believes  ? 

Whatever  may  be  the  answers  which  we  receive  to  these  inquiries,  we  are  impelled  to 
make  the  inquiries.  Should  the  issue  disappoint  us,  we  must  still  investigate.  Should  we  return 
from  our  search  with  the  conviction  that  nothing  can  be  found,  though  disappointed  of  the 
object  which  we  sought,  we  should  feel  a  kind  of  satisfaction  in  knowing  that  nothing  can  cer- 
tainly be  known,  if  that  indeed  is  true.  Should  we  conclude  that  the  soul  is  material,  and  that 
thought  and  feeling  are  secreted  from  the  brain,  we  should  still  be  impelled  to  seek  for  and 
find  the  truth  which  degrades  and  disappoints  us. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  these  scientific  inquiries  lead  to  the  conclusion — as  we  believe  they 
will  when  rightly  conducted — that  the  soul  is  not  material,  but  spiritual,  and  that  for  its  use 
ind  ends  the  material  universe  exists  and  is  arranged ;  if  the  powers  of  the  soul  are  seen 
by  science  to  have  been  constructed  for  its  moral  perfection,  and  to  point  to  this  as  then 
:bief  and  ultimate  end ;  if  the  conditions  of  its  existence  in  a  material  body  conduce  to  it« 


§6.  PSYCHOLOGY   DEFINED    AXD    VIN  L 1CATED.  *J 

discipline  to  a  perfect  character,  and  promote  its  preparation  for  a  more  exalted  and  noble 
state,  these  conclusions  will  be  satisfying  not  merely  from  the  intrinsic  value  of  the  results 
themselves,  but  because  they  are  confirmed  by  the  most  searching  investigation.  Our  views 
of  these  truths  are  more  enlightened  when  they  are  illumined  by  satisfying  reasons  for  holding 
them.  They  are  more  comprehensive,  because  they  are  gained  by  a  wider  view  of  the  facts 
and  relations  which  pertain  to  them.  They  are  therefore  held  more  firmly,  more  serenely 
and,  if  need  be,  more  heroically. 

It  is  sometimes  said,  that  we  ought  to  acquiesce  in  the  commonly  received  opinion! 
Prejudices  —the  so-called  "  teachings  of  nature  "—in  respect  to  these  phenomena,  and  not  attempt 
of^and  "^neta."  to  define  tbem  in  precise  or  accurate  language,  to  account  for  them  by  discovered  )aw% 
physics.  or  to  arrange  them  in  a  scientific  system.  It  is  pertinent  to  suggest,  in  reply,  that 

"  nature"  seems  to  impel  us  to  be  dissatisfied  with  her  teachings,  and  to  force  us  to 
seek  more  exact  and  scientific  knowledge  than  these  "natural  teachings"  furnish.  The  " commonly  re- 
ceived opinions  "  come  no  more  truly  by  "nature  "  than  do  "  reading  and  writing."  They  are  the  prod 
ucts  of  certain  philosophical  inquiries  in  respect  to  the  soul — the  bequest  perhaps  of  some  forgotten  philo 
Bophical  school — which  have  slowly  wrought  their  way  into  the  minds  of  the  community  through  books 
teachers,  and  preachers,  and  have  become  so  generally  accepted  that  they  seem  to  be  truisms. 

Depreciating  views  of  psychological  and  metaphysical  studies  are  frequently  urged  and  more  fre 
quently  cherished  in  silence  by  the  devotees  of  the  physical  and  applied  sciences.  Such  persons  havt 
been  known  to  carry  the  practical  joke  which  exposes  their  own  ignorance  so  far  as  to  limit  the  termi 
science  and  the  sciences  to  the  study  of  those  objects  which  we  can  see  and  handle;  as  if  the  word  scienti 
might  be  applied  to  the  knowledge  of  every  other  object  and  activity  in  the  universe,  and  denied  to  th« 
knowledge  of  the  one  agent  and  the  one  process  by  which  these  sciences  are  achieved.  They  will  not  con- 
descend to  apply  it  to  inquiries  concerning  the  instrument  of  all  scientific  knowledge,  or  to  those  concep- 
tions and  relations  which  underlie  all  science,  without  which  geometiy,  mechanics,  chemistry,  geology, 
syntax  and  philology,  law  and  government,  have  no  meaning,  are  capable  of  no  method,  and  can  pro- 
•iuce  no  conviction. 

It  might  easily  be  shown  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  such  decriers  of  metaphysics,  that  every  one  of 
Uie  physical  sciences  begins  with  metaphysical  conceptions  and  propositions.  "With  these,  both  teacher* 
and  learners  may  indeed  rarely  concern  themselves,  for  fear,  perhaps,  of  being  puzzled  beyoad  the  possi- 
bility of  self-extrication,  and  so  they  either  quietly  ignore  them,  or  confidingly  accept  as  a  teaching  et 
nature,  or  an  axiom  of  common  sense,  the  caput  mortuum  of  a  defunct  school  of  metaphysics.  Such  person' 
might  profitably  exercise  themselves  with  a  few  questions  touching  their  own  sciences,  before  they  attack 
the  psychologist  as  a  dealer  in  unprofitable  speculations,  whose  subject-matter  is  intangible,  a:  d  the  result? 
profitless.  They  might  consider  questions  like  these:  "What  is  a  point?  "What  aline,  square,  and  cubeT 
What  is  matter?  "What  is  the  difference  between  a  material  substance  and  its  properties?  "What  is  a 
material  cause,  power,  and  law?  "What is  the  nature,  foundation,  and  authority  of  the  inductive  process? 

The  jurist  might  properly  be  sometimes  summoned  to  his  own  bar,  and  required  to  define  mor< 
exactly— i.  e.,  more  metaphysically— the  elementary  notions,  and  to  justify  more  carefully  the  fundamental 
principles  of  his  own  science.  Or  he  might  with  reason  be  reproved  from  the  bench  for  the  inaccurate  and 
slovenly  positions  which,  through  defect  of  metaphysics,  he  lays  down  as  undisputed  maxims  of  natural 
justice,  the  deep  foundations  on  which  are  reared  the  elaborate  and  imposing  structures  of  artificial  juris- 
prudence and  positive  law. 

Value  of  Psy-    §  6.  It  may  seem  needless  to  dwell  upon  the  value  of  psv- 

chology.    It  re-     8  .          J  ...  l    J 

quires  and  pro-    chojoerical  studies.     Thev  are  peculiar  in  this.  that,  to  what* 

motes  self  knowl- 
edge, ever  power  01  the  soul  they  are  directed,  they  both  require 

and  strengthen  the  habit  of  self-knowledge.  No  real  knowledge  of  the 
soul  can  be  gained  except  by  turning  the  gaze  inward.  Each  student 
must  do  this  himself,  for  no  one  can  do  it  for  another.  Books  and  instruc- 
tors, essays,  poetry,  and  the  drama,  "cannot  describe  or  teach  that  which  is 
lot  confirmed  by  the  researches  of  the  learner  within  his  own  spirit.  For 
the  man  who  is  disposed  to  reflect,  they  can  do  much,  by  instructing  him 
where  and  how  to  look;  but  to  him  who  will  not  converse  with  himself, 
they  can  impart  no  instruction.  To  such  a  man  they  must  speak  in  an 
unknown  tongue.  They  cannot  create  conceptions  in  the  mind  that  has 


10  INTRODUCTION.  §  8 

not  verified  or  will  not  verify  them  in  its  own  experience.  They  speal* 
only  words  to  him  who  does  not  bring  the  answering  thoughts  from  his 
own  reflective  self-acquaintance. 

This  discipline  to  reflection,  with  the  habits  which  it  forms,  is  valuable 
Trains  to  self-  because  it  teaches  self-control.  He  that  studies  his  own  powers,  may  learn 
control.  now  to  (jirect  an(j  use  them.  He  may  learn  how  to  fix  his  attention,  how 

to  invigorate  and  refresh  his  memory,  how  to  order  and  arrange  his  thoughts. 
Jle  may  discover  what  are  his  intellectual  defects,  and  the  reasons  why  he  can  perform  some 
processes  with  ease,  while  others  cost  pains-taking  and  effort.  He  may  acquire  the  skill  to 
(jorrect  his  deficiencies  and  to  overcome  his  bad  habits  ;  to  make  easy  that  which  was  difficult, 
and  pleasant  that  which  was  disagreeable. 

It  also  lays  the  foundation  for  moral  self-improvement.  He  that  would  improve  his  charac- 
ter, must  first  know  what  his  character  is.  He  must  discover  what  are  his  better  and  what  his 
worse  impulses ;  what  are  the  points  at  which  he  is  most  easily  assailed,  and  by  what  sensibili- 
ties or  emotions  he  can  most  readily  rally  his  forces  and  overcome  their  assailants.  With  self- 
improvement,  self-government  is  intimately  associated.  Indeed,  the  one  cannot  exist  without 
the  other.  He  that  would  make  himself  better,  must  learn  to  set  himself  over  against  himself 
as  his  own  master,  repressing  the  evil,  and  educing  and  encouraging  the  good.  But  he  that 
would  rule  himself,  must  first  know  himself.  He  must  thoroughly  understand  the  subject 
whom  he  would  regulate  and  control.  "  Know  thyself,"  was  written  over  the  portal  at  Delphi. 
It  was  inculcated  by  Socrates,  that  preeminent  teacher  of  practical  ethics,  who,  measuring 
every  species  of  knowledge  by  its  tendency  to  make  man  better,  regarded  this  maxim  as  the 
summary  of  wisdom.  A  Christian  poet  has  said,  in  the  same  spirit, 

"  Unless  above  himself  he  can 
Erect  himself,  how  mean  a  thing  is  man ! " 

8  7.  The   self-knowledge  which  psvcholoery  fosters,   and  to 

Trains     to     the    "°      . 

knowledge  of  which  it  insensibly  trains,  is  the  one  instrumentality  by  which 
we  learn  to  understand  our  fellow-men.  The  sharp  and  search- 
ing look  by  which  one  man  sees  through  another,  and  reads  the  secret 
which  he  is  unwilling  to  confess,  is  attained  only  by  the  fine  and  subtle 
analysis  of  one's  self.  What  is  perceived,  are  only  external  signs;  as  a 
word,  a  look,  a  gesture.  To  the  thought,  the  wish,  the  purpose  which 
they  suggest,  there  is  no  direct  access.  The  only  thoughts  and  wishes 
which  the  interpreter  can  know  directly,  are  his  own  ;  and  it  is  by  a  close 
and  habitual  study  of  these  that  he  is  able  to  connect  them  with  the  signs 
through  which  those  of  other  men  are  revealed. 

§  8.  If,  also,  we  would  know  our  fellow-men  to  do  them 
£  Jd™K!aWe  g°°d,  we  must  first  know  ourselves.  This  suggests  the  im- 
portant service  which  psychology  may  render  to  teachers  of 
every  class ;  from  her  who  communicates  to  the  infant  the  first  elements 
of  its  "mother-tongue,"  to  him  who  toils  with  his  fit  though  scanty 
audience  along  the  loftiest  heights  of  philosophical  thinking.  It  is  the 
office  of  the  teacher  to  communicate  knowledge.  But  to  communicate 
is  more  than  to  acquire,  or  to  possess,  or  to  express  in  the  language  that 
satisfies  one's  self.  The  teacher  should  impart — i.  e.,  awaken  in  the  mind 
of  another — the  thoughts  which  exist  in  his  own.  He  must  cause  his  own 


§  9.  PSYCHOLOGY    DEFINED    AND    VINDICATED.  11 

thoughts  to  be  received  by  his  pupil.  He  must  make  sure  that  they  are 
easily  followed  and  reproduced ;  that  the  order  in  which  they  are 
arranged  is  adapted  to  the  condition  and  wants  of  the  recipient,  and 
that  the  full  force  of  the  reasons  by  which  he  argues  is  responded  to 
and  felt. 

Hence,  skill  in  the  method  or  art  of  teaching,  as  distinguished  from  the  possession  of 
knowledge,  depends  almost  entirely  upon  the  power  of  a  man  to  measure  and  judge  of 
the  effect  of  his  instruction s.  The  clear,  methodical,  and  satisfactory  communication  of  knowl- 
edge follows  from  often  asking,  What  truths  are  most  easily  and  naturally  received  at  first,  or 
as  the  foundation  for  others  ?  What  illustrations  and  examples  are  most  pertinent  and  satis- 
factory  ?  What  degree  of  repetition  and  inculcation  is  required  in  order  to  cause  the  impres- 
sion to  remain  ?  How  can  individual  peculiarities  of  intellect  be  successfully  addressed,  and, 
if  need  be,  corrected  ?  Such  questions  can  only  find  answers  through  the  habits  and  knowl- 
edge which  come  from  intelligent  self-study. 

The  so-called  teacher  is  not  the  only  person  who  educates  his  fellow-men.  The 
Variety  of  edu-  editor,  the  preacher,  the  public  lecturer,  the  political  speaker,  the  man  who  gains  an- 
cators.  other  over  to  his  views  by  conversation,  the  parent  who  imports  the  knowledge  and 

principles,  the  truth  or  error  which  strike  the  deepest  and  live  the  longest,  these  all 
are  In  the  truest  sense  teachers.  The  art  or  skill  which  they  possess  and  use,  depends  to  a  certain  extent 
on  qualities  of  manner,  style,  or  address,  but  most  of  all  on  the  knowledge,  who  the  men  are  with  whoro 
they  have  to  do,  what  are  the  facts  or  truths  which  they  are  prepared  to  receive,  and  in  what  method  and 
order  they  should  be  presented  so  as  to  be  received  most  adyantageously.  To  this  skill  no  study  or  training 
BO  directly  contributes  as  those  derived  from  psychology.  Hence,  the  science  of  Pedagogic,  or  instruction 
in  the  science  and  art  of  teaching,  has  been  usually  entrusted  to  the  students  and  devotees  of  psychology 
and  philosophy.  Locke's  treatise  on  the  Conduct  of  the  Understanding  was  a  natural  and  almost  a  neces- 
sary result  of  his  well-known  Essay. 

§  9.  Education  is  something  more  than  the  communication  of 
"itirtin  moral  knowledge.  It  includes  the  training  of  the  sensibilities, 
which  are  the  springs  of  action,  and  the  forming  and  fixing 
of  the  character.  To  this  the  knowledge  of  the  feelings  is  as  requisite  aa 
the  knowledge  of  the  intellect,  and  it  is  attained  by  a  similar  method. 
Those  who  influence  the  character  and  conduct  of  their  fellow-men  by 
public  discourse  or  private  conversation,  by  the  persuasion  of  words  or 
the  magic  power  of  look  or  gesture,  those  who  seduce  to  evil  or  win 
to  good,  are,  in  the  appropriate  sense  of  the  word,  educators,  as  truly 
and  often  with  greater  potency  than  the  teacher  in  the  school  or  the 
professor  from  his  chair. 

The  knowledge  of  the  ways  by  which  men  are  to  be  moved  and  won, 
whether  it  is  transfigured  and  exalted  to  the  divinest  uses,  or  debased  t» 
the  lowest  arts  of  the  demagogue  and  the  seducer,  is  dependent  on  th* 
single  condition  of  self-observation,  and  is  promoted,  stimulated  ami 
perfected  most  of  all  by  the  habits  and  training  which  come  from  psycho- 
logical investigations.  The  sharp  pettifogger,  the  mischief-making  gossip, 
the  artful  intriguer,  the  venal  politician,  a«  well  as  the  wise  counsellor,  the 
inspiring  teacher,  the  divine  philosopher,  and  the  eloquent  preacher,  open 
the  fountains  of  their  inspiration  to  evil  or  good,  first  r.  the  ?£udy  of  theii 
own  souls. 


12  INTRODUCTION.  §11 


Disci  lines  for  §  10a  ^e  name  another  advantage  from  psychological  study 
the  study  of  lit-  —  the  training  which  it  ensures  for  the  appreciation  and 
enjoyment  of  literature,  and  the  increased  facility  it  imparts 
in  writing  that  which  may  be  worthy  to  be  read.  The  great  masters  in 
literature,  especially  in  poetry,  fiction,  and  the  drama,  have  sounded  the 
depths  of  the  human  soul.  They  have  studied  man  most  attentively  in 
the  several  phases  which  his  being  assumes,  and  as  moved  by  the  many 
varieties  of  human  feeling  and  passion.  They  may  not  have  learned  all 
the  technical  names  which  are  given  to  his  capacities,  or  been  taught  in 
the  schools  all  the  theories  which  have  been  formed  of  the  essence  and 
powers  of  the  soul  ;  but  they  have  studied  its  thoughts  and  feelings  to 
the  most  effectual  purpose,  and  have  exhibited  the  results  of  their  studies 
in  characters  of  surpassing  interest,  and  by  words  of  wondrous  power. 
From  their  works  the  student  of  psychology  may  find  most  valuable  aid 
and,  to  enjoy  and  appreciate  them,  there  is  no  study  which  is  so  accessory 
as  the  systematic  study  of  the  human  soul,  with  the  habits  and  tastes  which 
this  study  engenders.  No  fact  is  better  attested  by  the  history  of  liter- 
ature, than  that  those  trained  by  such  studies  enjoy  with  especial  zest  the 
best  literary  productions,  and  appreciate  them  more  keenly  than  any  other 
class  of  men.  Other  things  being  equal,  they  are  better  qualified  than  any 
others  to  criticise  them  fairly  and  intelligently. 

It  has  been  questioned  whether  the  reflective  and  critical  tendency  thua 
Is  not  xmfavor-  fostered  is  favorable  to  the  power  of  originating  productions  of  the  highest 
power.  order.  Eminent  examples  may  be  cited  from  the  history  of  letters,  of  those 

who  have  been  distinguished  for  these  habits,  as  Milton,  Gray,  Bacon,  Hume, 
Gibbon,  Grote,  Goethe,  Schiller,  who  have  also  been  distinguished  for  the  power  of  original 
creation.  In  many  departments  of  literature,  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  attentive  and 
critical  study  of  the  soul  gives  power  to  originate  successfully  as  well  as  to  judge  acutely. 
The  arm  that  measures  its  strength  and  steadies  its  aim  by  the  judging  eye,  will  reach  the 
mark  with  greater  precision,  and  its  energy  need  be  none  the  less. 

§  11.  We  ought  not  to  omit  the  peculiar  grace  and  charm 
SiraFr^ction0  which  is  lent  to  the  character  through  the  influence  of  that 

moral  reflection  which  is  the  natural  result  of  self-acquaint- 
ance. To  learn  to  put  ourselves  in  the  condition  of  others,  by  imagining 
what  would  be  our  expectations  and  what  our  feelings  were  we  in  their 
place,  not  only  disciplines  and  guides  to  that  common  justice  which 
the  laws  enjoin,  and  to  that  unselfish  morality  which  the  Golden  Rule 
prescribes,  but  it  is  the  secret  of  that  considerate  sympathy  and  refined 
courtesy  which  invest  with  a  peculiar  attractiveness  a  few  superior  natures. 
It  is  by  this  process  that  we  learn  to  clothe  the  severe  form  of  heroic  alle- 
giance to  duty  with  the  graceful  robe  of  unselfish,  sympathetic,  and  divine 
charity. 

Dr.  Thomas  Arnold  was  accustomed  to  make  much  of  what  he  called  "  moral  thoughtful 
ie»,"  as  the  trait  of  character  which  he  desired  most  of  all  to  perfect  in  his  pupi's,  and  whicl 


§12.  PSYCHOLOGY   DEFINED   AND   VINDICATED.  IS 

he  defined  as  "  the  inquiring  love  of  truth  going  along  with  the  divine  love  of  goodness.* 
This  "  moral  thoughtfulness  "  is  fostered  by  self-acquaintance,  when  prosecuted  with  the  honest 
purpose  of  self-improvement.  This  self-knowledge  makes  a  man  to  be  just  to  others,  because 
be  is  severe  to  himself ;  to  be  modest,  because  he  compares  himself  with  others ;  to  be  candid, 
because  he  views  their  merits  and  defects  as  if  they  were  his  own  ;  to  be  sympathizing,  because 
he  feels  their  joys  and  sorrows  as  experienced  by  himself;  to  be  courteous,  because  he  would 
express  by  word  and  act,  by  look  and  tone,  his  acknowledgment  of  their  rights  and  his  syrupa^ 
thy  with  their  feelings ;  to  be  indignant  at  wrong,  because,  in  the  evil  intended  for  another,  he 
feels  a  blow  aimed  at  himself. 

It  leads  to  a  wider  sympathy  with  man  than  is  bounded  by  the  circle  of  acquaintances,  of 
country,  or  even  of  those  now  living.  It  conducts  the  thoughts  backward  along  the  history  of 
the  past,  and  forward  among  the  problems  of  the  future.  It  makes  one  sad  at  the  stories  of 
human  suffering,  and  buoyant  in  the  contemplation  of  human  excellence  in  characters  conspicu- 
ous for  faithfulness  and  heroism.  From  this  enlarged  sympathy  arise  more  hopeful  and  toler- 
ant views  of  present  evils,  a  firmer  faith  in  the  promises  of  Providence  and  the  prospects  and 
progress  of  man,  a  more  cautious  and  candid  estimate  of  the  excitements  and  prejudices  which 
attend  the  partisan  conflicts  of  the  passing  hour.  Superior  natures,  in  all  situations  in  life, 
have  ever  been  reflective  natures.  When  the  opportunity  has  been  furnished,  they  have  been 
attracted  by  psychological  studies  and  fascinated  by  the  mysteries  which  they  attempt  to  unveil 
and  resolve. 

Psychology  the  §  12'  Psychology  either  furnishes  or  reveals  the  first  prin- 
SSces  °which  ciples  for  all  those  sciences  which  either  directly  or  remotely 
relate  to  man.  relate  to  man — which  concern  his  being,  his  aspirations  and 
wants,  the  products  of  his  genius,  his  institutions,  his  studies,  or  his  des- 
tiny. It  is  from  psychology  that  all  these  sciences  derive  their  definitions, 
and  it  is  in  psychology  that  they  find  the  evidence  for  their  truth.  They 
all  begin  with  certain  propositions,  which  they  assume  to  be  true.  If 
their  truth  is  questioned,  the  final  appeal  is  made  to  the  science  of  the 
human  soul,  as  the  highest  court,  beyond  which  there  can  be  no  resort 

Thus  ethics,  or  the  science  of  human  duty,  sets  off"  with  certain  positions 
tts  relation  to  m  respect  to  the  nature  of  man,  which  assert  that  he  is  fitted  for  moral  action, 
rthics.  and  that  to  right  or  virtuous  activity  he  is  impelled  by  the  most  sacred  obliga- 

tions.  It  defines  conscience  and  duty,  and  the  several  relations  of  man,  and 
from  its  definitions  derives,  by  logical  inference  and  analysis,  the  rules  and  maxims  of  pracv 
Meal  ethics.  But  is  man  a  moral  being  ?  What  is  it  to  be  capable  of  moral  activity  and  obli. 
gation?  Is  he  endowed  with  conscience?  What  is  conscience?  These  questions  are  at 
questions  of  fact,  and  can  be  answered  only  by  the  psychological  study  of  man. 

Political  and  social  science  also  assumes  that  man  is  a  social  being,  and 

To  political  and    tnat  ne  is  formed  for  and  must  exist  in  organized  society.     It  defines  the 

social  science.         rights  and  obligations  which  grow  out  of  this  constitution.       But    is   man 

thus  endowed  ?  and  what  is  he  as  a  social  and  political  being  ?    Psychology 

alone  can  answer. 

Law,  or  the  science  of  justice,  lays  down  as  its  axioms  certain  assumptions 
in  respect  to  the  authority  and  limits  of  government,  for  the  truth  of  which 
it  must  appeal  to  the  consciousness  of  every  one  who  consults  his  own  inner 
life.  This  science  is  therefore  carried  back  step  by  step,  till  its  last  footstep 
is  firmly  fixed  in  psychology. 


14  INTRODUCTION.  §13 

JEsthetics,  or  the  science  of  criticism,  assumes  .hat  man  is  pleased  with 

T       th  t    •  *^e  beautiful  an{^  elevated  by  the  sublime  ;  and  that  he  can  form  distinct 

conceptions  of  what  is  fitted  to  attract  him  in  both.     From  these  concep- 
tions he  can  derive  rules  by  which  to  try  and  measure  whatever  interests 

him  in  literature,  nature,  or  art.     The  canons  of  taste  are  in  the  last  analysis  resolved  by 

facts  of  psychology. 

Theology  is  the  science  of  God,  of  man's  relations  to   God,  and  of  the 

,_  will  of  God  as  made  known  to  man.     But  this  science  must  assume  that  man 

is,  in  his  nature,  capable  of  religious  emotion  ;  as  also  that  he  believes  in 
God,  and  can  in  some  way  understand  His  character  and  His  will.     What  man 

believes,  and  how  he  comes  to  believe  it,  are  in  great  part  to  be  explained  by  psychology. 

Theology  must  go  to  psychology  to  vindicate  its  primary  conceptions  and  justify  its  elementary 

principles.     The  science  of  religious  faith  and  feeling  must,  so  far  as  it  is  a  science,  rest  on 

psychology. 

From  these  considerations,  psychology  is  shown  to  be  the  common  parent  of  many  of  the 

Kiiences.     To  every  one  of  these  sciences  the  study  of  psychology  furnishes  the  necessary 

groundwork,  and  is  itself  the  necessary  and  appropriate  introduction  for  the  thorough  under- 

standing and  orderly  development  of  their  teachings. 


s  eciai  relation  §  13<  ^°  ^°^c  an^  metaphysics,  psychology  stands  in  a 
to  logic  and  me-  peculiar  and  most  intimate  relation,  to  understand  which 

taphysics. 

special  consideration  is  required.  Psychology,  in  one  aspect, 
is,  like  all  the  sciences  of  nature,  a  science  of  observation  ;  and  it  is  sub- 
ject to  those  rules  of  investigation  and  of  evidence  which  are  common  to 
them  all.  We  study  the  soul  aright  when  we  collect  and  resolve  its 
phenomena  according  to  the  inductive  method  ;  when  we  reason  from 
premises  to  conclusion  ;  when  we  infer,  by  analogy  with  similar  phenom- 
ena ;  and  when  we  arrange  our  products  in  the  order  and  beauty  of  a 
complete  and  consistent  system.  Hence  it  follows  that  psychology, 
though  necessarily,  as  we  have  seen,  the  parent  and  director  of  many 
sciences,  is  itself  in  a  most  important  sense  subjected  to  logic  as  its  guide 
and  lawgiver. 

But  logic  is  itself  subject  to  another  science,  viz.,  meta- 
physics,  or  speculative  philosophy,  inasmuch  as  this  is  the 
science  of  those  necessary  conceptions  and  fundamental  re- 
lations on  which  the  rules  and  the  processes  of  logic  are  founded.  Such 
are  the  conceptions  of  substance  and  attribute,  of  cause  and  effect,  of  means 
and  ends,  and  the  relations  of  inherence,  causation,  and  design.  Unless 
these  are  assumed,  the  concept,  the  judgment,  the  syllogism,  the  inductive 
process,  the  system,  can  have  no  meaning  and  no  application.  Pyschology 
is  therefore  subject  to  logic  as  its  lawgiver,  and  logic  to  metaphysics  as  ita 
voucher. 

Psychology  sub-  But  though,  in  the  order  of  thought  and  methodical  con- 
Jore  Vogfc6*  <uod  struction,  psychology  is  subject  to  these  sciences,  yet,  in  the 
metaphysics.  order  of  time  and  of  acquisition,  psychology  is  before  these 
sciences,  which  are  fundamental  to  itself  and  to  all  the  other  sciences 


§  14.  PSYCHOLOGY   DEFINED   AND   VINDICATED.  Ifi 

We  must,  in  a  certain  sense,  go  through  psychology  in  order  to  rea  h  the 
logic  by  which  we  study  psychology.  Logic  teaches  the  laws  oi  right 
thinking.  But  what  is  it  to  think  ?  what  are  the  processes  wh.  ch  it 
involves  ?  We  must  ask  these  questions,  in  order  to  discover  and  pre- 
scribe the  rules  of  thinking.  We  answer  them  by  resorting  to  the  facts 
which  consciousness  discloses.  Metaphysics  evolves  the  original  concep- 
tions which  appear  in  all  science,  and  the  ultimate  relations  which  are 
assumed  in  the  language  and  inquiries  of  all  the  special  philosophies. 
But  what  are  these  original  conceptions,  these  prime  relations,  these 
categories,  of  which  every  particular  assertion  and  every  actual  belief  is 
only  a  special  exemplification  ?  Psychology  only  can  answer,  as,  by  her 
analysis,  she  shows  that  man  performs  processes  and  achieves  results  in 
which  he  necessarily  originates  and  applies  these  conceptions  and  re'a- 
tions.  By  studying  the  mind,  we  discover  the  laws  by  which  both  mil  r| 
and  matter  can  be  studied  aright.  By  studying  the  mind,  we  unveil  an  1 
evolve  the  necessary  conceptions  and  primary  beliefs  by  which  the  min 
itself  interprets  or  under  which  it  views  the  universe  of  matter  and  spiril 
It  is,  then,  through  psychology  that  we  reach  the  very  sciences  to  whicl 
psychology  itself  is  subject  and  amenable.  Psychology  is  the  starting 
point  from  which  we  proceed.  Psychology  is  also  the  goal  to  which  wt 
must  return,  if  we  retrace  the  path  along  which  science  has  led  us.  In  syn 
thesis  we  begin,  in  analysis  we  end,  with  this  mother  of  all  the  sciences. 

This  special  relation  of  psychology  to  these  fundamental  sciences  explains 
Why  psychology  why  psychology  is  itself  so  often  called  philosophy  and  metaphysics,  while  it 
jfhi?osop]iy.Ca  is  neither,  but  simply  a  science  of  observation  and  of  fact.  It  does,  however, 

lead  to  philosophy  and  t«  metaphysics,  as  we  have  seen  by  the  discoveries 
which  it  evolves  and  the  habits  to  which  it  trains.  It  is  the  natural  introduction  to  meta- 
physical or  philosophical  studies,  for  its  own  investigations  will  conduct  the  mind  step  by 
step  to  those  inquiries  which  will  bring  into  view  those  conceptions  and  relations,  concern- 
ing the  authority  of  which  speculative  intellects  have  disputed  in  all  the  schools.  These  con- 
ceptions and  relations  are  employed  in  all  the  special  sciences  of  nature,  or,  in  the  language 
of  the  ancients,  in  all  physics,  whether  the  TCI.  QwiKd  are  material  or  spiritual.  Hence  it  may 
be  that  all  inquiries  concerning  them  were  called  metaphysical,  as  beyond,  or  preliminary  to, 
the  physical,  and  the  science  was  called  metaphysics.  Hence  psychology  itself  was  called 
philosophy,  as  it  conducted  to  philosophy  par  Eminence,  the  prima  philosophia,  which  is  funda 
mental  to  all  the  special  and  applied  sciences. 

§  14.  It  is  obvious  that,  if  psychology  holds  these  relations  to 
metKpline  t0    so  manJ  special  sciences,  the  study  of  it  must  of  itself  be  a 
most  efficient  discipline  to  method  and  logical  power. 

"  What  is  that,"  says  Coleridge,  The  Friend,  Sec.  II.,  Ess.  4,  "  which  first  strikes  us,  and 
strikes  us  at  once  in  a  man  of  education  ?  and  which,  among  educated  men,  so  instantly  dis- 
linguistics  the  man  of  superior  mind,  that  (as  was  observed  with  eminent  propriety  of  the  late 
Edm'ind  Burke)  we  cannot  stand  under  the  same  archway  during  a  shower  of  rain,  without 
finding  him  out  ?  Not  the  weight  or  novelty  of  his  remarks  ;  not  any  unusual  interest  of  facta 
jommunicated  by  him,"  etc.  etc.  *  *  *  "  It  is  the  unpremeditated  and  evidently  habitual 


10  INTRODUCTION.  §  16 

trrangcment  of  his  words,  grounded  on  the  habit  of  foreseeing,  i»  each  integral  part,  or  (mort 
plainly)  in  every  sentence,  the  whole  that  he  intends  to  communicate.  However  irregular  and 
desultory  his  talk,  there  is  method  in  the  fragments." 

It  is  impossible  for  a  person  to  be  accustomed  to  reflect  upon  his  own  psychical  states,  to 
analyze  them  into  their  elements ;  to  trace  his  practical  maxims  and  his  scientific  axioms  to  their 
fundamental  principles,  or  to  evolve  them  from  their  psychological  processes  ;  it  is  impossible 
that  a  man  should  be  thus  disciplined  without  acquiring  the  power  of  thinking  clearly, 
rationally,  and  by  orderly  processes,  and  without  also  gaining  the  power  to  express  his  thoughts 
in  a  lucid  and  convincing  manner.  To  whatever  subject  of  investigation  or  business  in  life 
such  a  student  may  apply  the  discipline  thus  acquired,  he  will  bring  to  it  a  mind  capable  of 
mastering  the  subject  with  satisfaction  to  himself  and  to  others,  and  of  gaining  that  supremacy 
which  the  man  who  thinks  with  order  will  always  secure  over  those  who  think  superficially,  or 
who  think  with  lack  of  method. 

Even  if  one's  profession  or  pursuit  in  life  does  not  require  him  to  be  familiar  with  the  facts 
of  psychology  or  the  principles  of  philosophy,  .he  will  retain  the  results  of  his  studies  in  the 
habits  of  methodical  and  analytic  thinking  to  which  he  will  have  been  trained.  But  no  man 
can  wholly  divest  himself  of  the  truths  which  he  must  of  necessity  have  gained  by  such  a  train- 
ing. The  sources  from  which  they  have  been  derived,  and  from  which  they  must  be  freshly 
confirmed,  are  open  ever  before  him.  The  mine  in  which  he  has  wrought  so  long  is  still  open 
for  his  working,  at  his  feet  and  by  his  door.  If  the  habit  has  been  once  acquired  of  looking 
attentively  at  his  inner  self,  and  of  there  disclosing  truths  and  finding  reasons,  it  will  not  be 
abandoned.  The  same  mine  will  continue  to  be  wrought,  because  its  products,  freshly  produced, 
vrill  be  constantly  required  on  every  occasion  when  common  sense,  the  knowledge  of  men, 
practical  wisdom  or  moral  convictions,  are  demanded.  The  possession  of  these  habits  and  the 
power  of  evolving  such  truths  command  the  respect  of  all  men,  and  invest  their  possessor  with 
an  influence  and  dignity,  to  which  all  men  concede  the  rightful  supremacy. 


IL 

THE    RELATIONS    OF   THE    SOUL   TO   MATTER. 

a    §  15.  Psychology  is  properly  a  branch  of  physics,  in  the  en- 
PwS    *arged  signification  of  the  term  ;  or,  the  science  of  the  soul 
*ense-  is  one  of  the  many  sciences  of   nature.     Whatever  may  be 

thought  of  the  substance  of  the  soul,  its  phenomena  are  unquestioned  facts. 
They  are  facts  which  are  as  real  and  as  potent  as  the  phenomena  of  gravi- 
tation or  electricity.  As  such,  they  assert  their  place  in  that  vast  system  of 
beings  which  we  call  Nature,  or  the  Universe,  and  claim  to  be  considered 
by  the  methods  of  inquiry  which  are  appropriate  to  scientific  investi- 
gation. 

then   are    §  16p   '^ae  true  philosopher  will  admit  the  justice  of  thia 


d?strut?e<?b  fitSfl  c^m>  an<^  Wl^  proceed  to  consider  these  phenomena  in  the 
philosopher?  light  of  scientific  methods.  But  when  he  begins  seriously 
to  study  them,  he  finds,  perhaps  to  his  surprise,  that  they  are  very  unlike 
die  phenomena  to  which  he  has  been  accustomed.  He  discovers  that  the 
subject-matter  of  investigation,  the  phenomena,  the  agents,  and  the  laws, 
are  all  strikingly  and  strangely  peculiar.  The  inquirer  is  surprised,  dis 


§17*  THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  MATTER.  17 

turbed,  and  perhaps  offended.  He  is  surrounded  by  unfamiliar  objects. 
He  is  summoned  to  consider  processes  to  which  he  is  unaccustomed.  He 
is  required  to  reflect  upon  phenomena  that  are  out  of  his  usual  range,  and 
to  assent  to  principles  which  he  has  never  before  recognized  nor  applied. 

The  first  impulse  is,  to  question  the  reality  and  trustworthiness  of  the  facts  themselves ; 
the  next,  to  doubt  whether  they  can  be  "distinctly  conceived  and  accurately  defined.  If  it  be 
conceded  that  they  are  actual,  and  worthy  to  be  investigated,  it  is  at  once  presumed  that  they 
may  be  attributed  to  some  material  substance  or  agent,  or  explained  by  material  laws,  or  at 
least  illustrated  by  material  analogies.  This  tendency  to  resolve  the  soul  into  matter,  or  to 
judge  the  soul  by  matter,  is  very  strong ;  at  times  it  is  almost  irresistible,  and  it  has  in  al. 
ages  exerted  over  the  most  candid  and  truth-loving  minds  a  powerful  and  unconscious  in'lu- 
ence.  The  influence  of  these  prepossessions  may  be  traced  in  the  works  of  almost  evwy 
writer  on  psychology ;  if  not  in  the  conclusions  which  he  reaches,  at  least  in  his  modes  of  r  ea- 
soning,  his  illustrations,  and  even  in  the  very  language  which  he  necessarily  employs,  lend 
by  which  he  is  unconsciously  influenced.  It  has  become,  therefore,  almost  a  necessity,  in  an 
Introduction  to  the  study  of  this  science,  to  consider  this  influence  distinctly,  so  as  to  account 
for  its  existence  and  to  guard  against  its  effects.  For  the  same  reason,  it  is  desirable,  also,  so 
far  as  we  can  do  this  by  a  preliminary  view,  to  determine  distinctly  what  are  the  relations  of 
the  soul  and  its  phenomena  to  the  essence,  powers,  and  laws  of  matter. 

817.  We  would  first  account  for  the  existence  of  this  ten- 
Material      phe-     "  •»-»       i  i  "n-ii  •    • 
nomena  are  the    dency.     By  the  natural  course  of  development  and  training 

we  are  for  a  long  period  exclusively  occupied  with  materia. 
phenomena  and  material  laws.  In  one  sense  it  is  true  that  nothing  is  so 
near  to  any  person  as  his  own  inner  self,  and  no  events  or  phenomena  are 
so  interesting  as  the  experiences  of  his  own  soul.  Even  the  material  world 
interests  us  only  as  through  the  sensibility  of  the  soul  we  are  alive  to  joy 
or  sorrow,  to  comfort  or  deprivation.  If  there  is  '  no  music  in  the  soul ' 
of  the  listener,  the  sweetest  notes  and  the  most  elaborate  harmonies  ar<* 
sounded  in  vain.  If  the  sight  awakens  no  pleasure,  and  the  food  provoke* 
no  taste,  they  are  nothing  to  us. 

Notwithstanding  this,  that  to  which  the  mind  attends,  and  with  whicl* 
as  an  object  of  thought  it  is  most  earnestly  occupied  even  in  joy  or  sor- 
row, is  the  outward  and  material.  What  the  man  sees  and  hears  and 
smells  and  tastes,  attracts  and  absorbs  the  attention.  Even  when  he 
begins  to  reflect,  the  objects  which  he  compares  and  distinguishes,  which 
he  classifies  and  arranges,  are  almost  exclusively  sensible  objects.  When 
he  rises  to  scientific  knowledge,  it  is  to  the  science  of  material  things. 
The  properties  and  powers  with  which  he  first  becomes  familiar  in  the 
way  of  science,  are  the  properties  and  powers  of  matter.  The  laws  of 
mechanics,  of  fluids,  of  light,  of  chemical  union,  of  vegetable  and  ani- 
mal life,  are  the  laws  which  he  first  studies,  masters,  and  learns  to  apply 
and  to  trust.  The  objects  to  which  they  pertain  address  the  senses.  They 
are  permanent  before  the  mind.  Experiments  can  be  instituted  by  which 
theories  can  be  tested  and  hypotheses  can  be  proved.  These  phenomena 
engage  the  attention  of  all  mankind,  and  to  discern,  describe,  and  under 

2 


18  INTRODUCTION.  §18. 

stand  them  requires  no  special  reflection  and  no  unusual  or  abstract  lan- 
guage. It  is  in  the  order  of  nature,  therefore,  that  the  sciences  of  matter 
should  precede  the  sciences  of  the  soul.  It  follows,  by  a  natural  and 
almost  a  necessary  consequence,  that  the  conceptions  and  methods  of 
investigation,  the  facts  and  laws  which  are  appropriate  to  material  objects, 
should  so  control  the  mind's  habits  and  associations,  should  be  so  in- 
wrought into  its  very  structure,  as  to  take  almost  exclusive  possession  of 
its  active  energies. 

§  18.  When  we  pass  over  from  the  study  of  matter  to  the 

Materialistic  J 

misgivings   and    study  of  spirit,  the  prepossessions  which  we  have  considered 

impressions.  *.  ,*  * 

remain  with  us.  We  are  at  once  confronted  with  new  and 
strange  objects.  Though  the  states  of  the  soul  have  been  the  nearest  to 
our  experience  and  the  most  familiar  to  our  enjoyment,  they  have  been 
removed  the  farthest  from  our  observation  and  study.  We  ask,  Are  they 
real  ?  Are  they  actual  and  substantial  ?  Surely  they  are  not  like  those 
phenomena  which  we  see  and  hear,  which  we  handle  and  taste.  But 
allowing  that  they  are  actual  phenomena,  are  they  distinct  and  definite  ? 
Can  we  compare  and  class  them  ?  To  what  substance  do  they  pertain  ? 
The  readiest  answer  is,  To  some  material  substance.  Hence  the  soul  is 
readily  resolved  into  some  form  of  attenuated  matter.  Its  functions  are 
explained  by  the  action  of  the  animal  spirits,  or  by  chemical  or  electrical 
changes  in  the  nervous  substance.  Perception  is  explained  by  impressions 
on  the  eye  and  the  ear,  which  impressions  are  referred  to  motions  in  a 
vibrating  fluid  without,  which  in  turn  are  responded  to  by  motions  aroused 
in  a  vibrating  agent  within.  Memory  and  association  are  explained  by  the 
mutual  attractions  or  repulsions  of  ideas  similar  to  those  to  which  the  parti- 
cles of  matter  are  subjected  by  cohesion  or  electricity.  Generalization  and 
judgment,  induction  and  reasoning,  are  resolved  by  the  frequent  and  often- 
repeated  deposits  of  impressions  that  have  affinity  for  one  another,  and  are 
thus  transformed  into  general  conceptions  and  relations. 

From  these  tendencies  and  prepossessions  hare  resulted  the  various  schemes  of  material- 
ism, the  grosser  and  the  more  refined.  By  these  influences  we  can  account  for  the  ready 
acceptance  of  phrenology,  with  its  more  or  less  decided  material  affinities.  To  the  same  we 
refer  the  occasional  semi-materialistic  solutions  of  psychical  phenomena,  which  occur  in  many 
treatises  and  systems  which  are  far  from  being  avowedly  materialistic.  By  them  we  can  easily 
explain  those  modes  of  thinking  and  speaking  in  respect  to  the  soul  in  which  resort  is  had  to 
*ome  law  or  principle  of  matter  to  explain  a  phenomenon  which  is  simply  and  purely  spiritual. 
Even  those  who  on  moral  or  religious  grounds  believe  most  firmly  in  the  spiritual  and  immor- 
tal existence  of  the  soul,  often  fall,  in  the  scientific  conceptions  which  they  form  of  its  essence 
and  its  actings,  into  modes  of  thinking  and  reasoning  which  are  more  or  less  plainly  material. 
Especially  are  they  easily  puzzled  by  objections  which  derive  their  sole  plausibility  from 
material  analogies.  These  phenomena  are  not  at  all  surprising.  The  mind  tnat  is  trained  by 
the  most  liberal  culture,  or  that  is  schooled  to  the  most  complete  self-control,  cannot  easily 
divest  itself  of  the  prejudices  and  prepossessions  which  have  been  contracted  by  previous 
studies.  Indeed,  there  is  reason  for  the  observation,  that  the  man  devoted  to  a  single  class  of 


§  20.  THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  MATTER.  19 

studies  or  department  of  science  is  liable  to  stronger  and  more  inveterate  prejudices  than  h« 
whose  one-sided  views  have  not  been  strengthened  by  reflection,  tested  by  experiment,  and 
enforced  by  authority.  The  man  confirmed  in  his  associations  by  means  of  a  familiar  master: 
over  some  physical  science,  is  the  man  of  all  others  to  whom,  when  he  considers  the  phenom 
ena  of  the  soul,  the  facts  seem  most  novel  and  the  conceptions  most  unfamiliar. 

§  19.  But  it  is  not  enough  to  be  forewarned  of  these  infiu 
Sproveduld  in    ences,  in  order  to  be  forearmed  against  them.     We  need  to 

be  convinced  that  they  are  founded  in  error  and  misconcep- 
tion ;  we  should  be  satisfied  that  the  science  of  the  soul  can  vindicate  its 
peculiar  conceptions  and  laws.  In  order  to  this,  we  need  to  take  a  general 
and  preliminary  view  of  the  relations  of  the  soul  to  matter.  A  complete 
and  final  theory  of  these  relations  can  only  be  gained  at  the  termination 
and  as  the  result  of  our  investigations.  In  order  fully  and  satisfactorily  to 
answer  the  questions,  '  Is  the  soul  material  ? '  '  Wherein  is  spirit  with  its 
phenomena  like,  and  wherein  is  it  unlike  matter  ?  '  we  must  first  have 
studied  each,  and  the  means  of  knowing  each  ;  i.  e.,  we  must  have  prose- 
cuted a  thorough  study  of  philosophy  and  psychology.  There  are,  how- 
ever, certain  considerations  which  are  appropriate  to  a  preliminary  view. 
These  we  propose  to  present — first,  those  which  may  fairly  be  urged  by 
and  conceded  to  the  materialist,  or  the  materialistic  psychologist ;  and 
second,  the  considerations  which  indicate  and  prove  that  the  soul  has  an 
activity  that  is  uncontrolled  by  material  agents,  and  follows  laws  that  are 
peculiar  to  itself.  We  shall  give  the  argument  of  the  materialist  in  its 
most  forcible  form,  omitting  no  source  of  evidence  which  modern  science 
has  furnished  for  his  use.  To  all  these  facts  and  proofs  he  has  a  just  and 
lawful  claim,  and  the  presentation  of  them  is  required  by  fidelity  to  sci- 
ence and  to  the  truth. 
The  arguments  8  20.  The  materialist  urges,  1.  That  we  know  the  soul  only 

of  the  material-      ' 

ist.   The  soul  is    as  connected  with  a  material  organization.     I  hat  which  is 

connected  with  a          ,,     _      _  ,,  .  ...  -,  .„  ,,    . 

body.  called  the  soul,  exerts  all  its  activities  and  manifests  all  its 

phenomena  by  means  of  the  human  body.  Of  a  soul  which  acts  or  mani- 
fests its  acts  apart  from  the  body,  we  have  no  experience,  either  by  per- 
sonal observation  or  through  credible  testimony.  It  must  certainly  be 
conceded  that  the  only  souls  to  which  science  can  have  access  for  the  pur- 
pose of  observing  their  functions  or  explaining  their  laws,  are  those  which 
exist  and  act  through  a  material  structure. 

The  soul  is  de  ^'  ^ne  Powers  °f  the  soul  are  developed  along  with  the 
viiop-d  with  the  powers  and  capacities  of  this  organized  structure.  As  these 
powers  and  capacities  are  severally  called  into  action  and 
reach  their  full  perfection,  so  do  the  powers  of  the  soul  appear  one  after 
another,  and  attain  the  full  measure  of  the  energy  which  nature  has 
assigned  them.  The  lower  organs  of  the  body  act  first  in  order,  and  these 
aic  developed  and  matured  at  the  earliest  period.  Afterward  the  higher 
organs  are  gradually  matured  and  brought  into  action.  After  the  body  is 


20  INTRODUCTION.  §  20 

completely  developed  for  all  its  functions,  it  passes  through  certain  stages 
of  growth,  increasing  in  size  and  strength.  During  these  periods  of  de- 
velopment and  growth  the  soul  is  also  unfolded  and  matured.  One  power 
after  another  is  made  ready  to  act,  and  the  capacity  for  the  action  of  each  is 
enlarged  and  strengthened.  If,  now,  the  soul  is  unfolded  as  the  body  is 
developed,  and  if  the  soul  grows  with  the  growth  of  the  body,  then  it 
would  seem  as  though  what  we  call  the  soul  is  but  a  name  for  the  capacity 
to  perform  certain  higher  functions  which  belongs  to  a  finely  organized 
and  fully  developed  material  organism. 

is  dependent  on  3-  The  soul  is  dependent  on  the  body  for  much  of  its  knowl- 
SowSe^nd  edge  and  for  many  of  its  enjoyments.  It  is  through  the  eye 
enjoyment.  on}y  tkat  |t  perceives  an(j  enjoys  color,  and  through  the  ear 

only  that  it  apprehends  and  is  delighted  with  sound.  All  the  knowledge 
which  it  gains  of  the  material  universe,  whether  near  or  remote,  whether 
minute  or  extended,  is  acquired  through  the  senses  alone.  It  is  only  as  a 
material  organ  is  affected  by  a  material  object,  that  the  mind  makes  a  sin- 
gle new  acquisition.  Should  these  organs  cease  to  exist,  or  cease  to  bt 
acted  on,  all  new  acquisitions  and  new  enjoyments  would  cease,  to  be  pos- 
sible. Even  the  so-called  higher  kinds  of  knowledge  and  feeling  have  a 
nearer  or  remoter  reference  to  the  objects  of  sense  with  which  we  are 
brought  in  contact  through  the  organs  of  sense. 

Moreover,  so  far  as  we  know,  the  soul  begiiis  to  act  and  to  enjoy  only 
when  these  organs  are  aroused  by  their  appropriate  material  excitants  or 
stimuli  /  and  it  would  never  act  or  enjoy  at  all,  either  in  its  higher  or 
lower  forms,  if  these  organs  were  not  first  called  into  action. 

4.  The  soul  is  dependent  on  the  body,  and  on  matter,  for  its 

Also  for  Its  en-  '  *  ... 

ergy  and  activ-  energy  and  activity.  It  sympathizes  most  intimately  with 
every  change  in  the  body.  The  capacity  to  fix  the  attention 
so  as  to  perceive  clearly,  to  remember  accurately,  and  to  comprehend  fully, 
varies  with  the  condition  of  the  stomach  and  the  action  of  the  heart.  A 
slight  indisposition  is  incompatible  with  the  performance  of  the  simplest 
functions  of  the  intellect,  and  with  the  exercise  of  those  emotions  to  which 
the  heart  is  most  wonted.  An  active  disease  disorders  the  imagination,  fill- 
ing it  with  offensive  and  incongruous  phantasies,  which  the  soul  can  neithei 
exclude  nor  regulate.  The  suffusion  of  the  brain  with  blood  or  water,  dis- 
qualifies the  soul  for  action  of  any  kind,  or  stupefies  it  into  entire  uncofr 
sciousness.  A  change  in  the  structure  or  in  the  functions  of  the  brain,  or 
some  lesion  of  the  nervous  system,  induces  that  suspension  of  the  higher 
and  regulating  functions  which  we  call  insanity.  This  state  is  permanent 
when  its  cause  is  permanent ;  and  the  soul  may  even  relapse  into  a  con- 
dition more  helpless  and  pitiable,  the  condition  of  idiocy,  from  which  it  is 
never  known  to  emerge.  That  state  of  the  body  which  we  call  faintness 
takes  away  all  conscious  perception  and  enjoyment,  and  causes  the  soul  to 
link  into  blank  inaction,  Another  state  of  the  body  in  sleep  induces 


§  20.  THE  EELATIONS  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  MATTER.  2] 

another  kind  of  activity,  in  which  the  usual  laws  of  perception,  judg- 
ment, and  memory,  as  well  as  the  usual  conditions  of  hope  and  fear,  seem 
to  be  deranged  or  reversed.  When  the  organization  of  the  body  is  de- 
stroyed, the  soul  ceases  to  act,  and,  for  aught  we  can  observe,  it  ceases 
to  exist. 

5.  The  soul  is  the  termination  of  a  series  of  material  exist 

It  terminates  a  »  ..  «      •          i  i         i         •  ^      -,  -,      • 

series  of  material    ences,  which  rise  above  each  other  in  orderly  gradation,  each 

existences.  ,  ,,         ,  .  -in 

preparing  the  way  for  the  other ;  and  all  are  represented  in 
that  form  of  organized  matter  which  manifests  and  sustains  the  highest  of 
ull,  i.  e.,  the  phenomena  of  the  soul  itself.  The  lowest  form  of  matter 
obeys  mechanical  laws.  In  this,  the  particles  are  held  together  by  cohe- 
bive  attraction,  and  the  masses  are  bound  by  that  force  which  causes  the 
atone  to  fall,  and  the  planets  to  move  in  their  rounds,  in  obedience  to  a 
mathematical  law.  The  form  next  higher  is  seen  in  bodies  endowed  with 
chemical  properties  and  capable  of  chemical  combinations.  Here  masses 
and  molecules  unlike  each  other  unite  in  such  a  way  as  to  form  a  third 
unlike  either — a  neutral  result,  in  which  the  constituting  elements  do  not 
appear.  In  the  form  next  higher,  matter  disposes  its  particles  in  crystal- 
line arrangement,  according  to  the  law  of  which  the  elements  are  not  con- 
tent with  simple  mechanical  aggregation,  nor  with  the  more  mysterious 
affinities  of  chemical  combination,  but  arrange  themselves  in  constant  and 
definite  external  forms,  more  or  less  symmetrical,  after  the  laws  of  a  natu- 
ral geometry.  Next  we  find  the  lowest  types  of  organized  existence,  of 
which  the  crystal  is  the  mute  prophecy.  In  these,  from  the  highest  to  the 
lowest,  there  are  separate  organs,  each  of  which  performs  a  separate  and 
special  function,  necessary  to  the  existence  and  functional  activity  of  every 
other  organ  and  to  the  whole  structure,  which  is  made  up  of  all  the  organs 
together.  The  plant,  when  the  requisite  conditions  are  present  of  nourish- 
ment, moisture,  and  light,  expands  into  a  developed  organism,  thrusts  out 
the  bud  and  leaf,  opens  the  flower  by  which  its  beauty  is  perfected,  and 
peed  and  fruit  are  formed  and  matured.  The  animal  requires  material  con- 
ditions of  food  and  air  and  light.  It  comes  into  being  by  peculiar  pro- 
cesses, it  grows  into  a  complicated  structure  of  bone,  muscle,  viscera, 
nerves,  and  brain,  each  separate  organ  fulfilling  its  special  duty,  and  all 
acting  together  so  as  to  form  a  completed  whole.  In  connection  with  the 
more  perfectly  and  delicately  organized  animal  structures,  the  phenomena 
of  the  soul  begin  to  appear,  requiring  as  their  condition  all  the  lower  forms 
of  nature,  the  presence  and  the  action  of  the  mechanical,  chemical,  and 
organic  powers  and  laws.  Nay,  more.  So  far  as  we  observe  the  various 
grades  of  animal  life,  just  in  proportion  to  the  perfection  of  the  material 
structure  is  the  perfection  of  the  soul.  The  more  simple  the  organization, 
the  fewer  are  the  instincts  and  the  more  limited  is  the  intelligence.  The 
more  complex  and  delicate  the  structure,  the  wider  is  the  range  and  the 
-icher  the  capacities  for  knowledge  enjoyment,  and  skill.  Again,  th$ 


22  rNTEODUCTION.  §  2 1. 

human  being,  so  far  as  the  progress  of  its  own  development  can  be  tracec^ 
seems  to  pass  in  succession  through  the  lower  up  to  the  higher  grades  of 
organic  life.  It  seems  to  take  up  into  itself  and  represent  all  the  inferior 
types  of  living  beings.  It  is  first,  as  it  were,  a  plant,  having  only  vegeta- 
tive existence,  in  the  capacity  for  nourishment  and  growth  ;  then  it  be- 
comes an  animal,  passing  through  the  lowest  to  the  highest  forms  of  animal 
existence ;  last  of  all,  it  emerges  into  that  which  is  still  higher,  the  form 
of  activity,  which  is  intelligent,  sensitive,  self-conscious,  and  rational.  It 
would  seem,  it  is  argued,  that  the  soul  and  the  body  are  one  organic 
growth.  The  one  is  perfected  with  the  other,  the  one  depends  on  the 
other,  the  one  results  from  the  other.  To  this  is  added  the  consideration 
already  noticed,  that  organic  or  nervous  force,  and  psychical  or  mental 
force,  go  hand  in  hand  in  energy.  As  is  the  tension  of  the  one,  so  are  the 
activity  and  achievements  of  the  other.  The  one  also  grows  and  is  devel- 
oped with  the  other,  and  with  it  wastes  in  decay,  rests  in  sleep,  is  bewil- 
dered in  dreams,  rages  in  insanity,  drivels  in  idiocy,  is  extinguished  in 
death. 

From  all  this  it  is  concluded  that  the  soul  is  nothing  without 
Si?mItSiaiist?f  tne  body,  the  two  being  different  names  for  different  func- 
tions of  a  common  substance,  and  the  soul  a  convenient  term 
for  the  higher  forms  of  activity  which  matter  exerts  in  its  finer  and  more 
ideal  forms.  Or,  in  other  words,  the  soul,  in  its  essence  and  its  acts,  is 
dependent  on  organization ;  and  when  the  organism  is  disintegrated,  the 
activity  of  the  soul  must  terminate.  Its  existence  separately  from  organ- 
ized matter,  or  transferred  to  another  and  a  new  organism,  involves  an 
absurd  and  impossible  conception. 

Such  is  a  brief  sketch  of  the  argument  for  the  material  structure  of 
the  human  soul,  as  it  might  be  urged  at  the  present  day  by  one  familiar 
with  modern  science.  The  considerations  are  very  general,  but  they 
embrace  the  most  important  parts  or  points  of  proof  which  it  is  suitable 
to  consider  at  the  introduction  of  our  studies  in  psychology. 
Counter  argu-  8  21.  The  considerations  which  may  be  urged  in  proof  that 

ments.    Itsphe-     °  J      .  r 

nomena  unlike  the  substance  of  the  soul  is  not  material,  are  the  following  ,- 
nomena.  1.  The  phenomena  of  the  soul  are  in  kind  unlike  the  phe- 

nomena which  pertain  to  matter.  All  material  phenomena  have  one  com- 
mon characteristic — that  they  are  discerned  by  the  senses.  They  can  be 
seen,  felt,  touched,  tasted,  and  can  also  be  weighed  and  measured.  Cer- 
tain phenomena  of  the  soul,  at  least,  are  known  by  consciousness,  and,  as 
thus  known,  are  directly  discerned  to  be  totally  unlike  all  those  events  and 
occurrences  which  the  senses  apprehend.  The  phenomena  discerned  by 
the  senses  are  known  to  have  some  relation  to  space  that  can  be  more  or 
less  clearly  defined.  Motion,  color,  taste,  sound,  combustion,  breathing, 
circulation,  secretion,  galvanic  agency,  chemical  combination,  growth,  de- 
composition— every  kind  and  form  of  material  activity — require  extensior 


§21  THE    RELATIONS    OF   THE    SOUL   TO   MATTER.  2S 

in  the  substance  on  which  they  operate,  or  in  the  effect  or  activity  itself. 
But  feeling,  will,  thought,  memory,  joy,  sorrow,  purpose,  resolve,  admit 
of  no  such  relation  to  space.  They  are  known  to  exclude  such  relation. 
Besides,  each  and  all  these  material  phenomena  or  prc  perties  are  referred 
U>  some  agent  or  substance  which  is  also  apprehended  by  the  senses  to  be 
extended  and  endowed  with  other  material  qualities.  Even  those  agents 
in  nature  which  are  most  imponderable  and  impalpable,  as  the  electric 
force  or  fluid  and  the  vital  or  organific  force  in  the  animal  or  plant,  both 
require  a  certain  portion  of  matter  as  the  active  or  potent  substance,  which 
must  be  electrified  or  made  living  in  order  to  exhibit  electrical  or  vital 
activity.  This  single  characteristic  of  material  agents  is  positively  known 
and  universally  assented  to.  On  the  other  hand,  the  phenomena  of  the 
soul  are  by  consciousness  not  only  not  necessarily  referred  to  any  such 
portion  of  matter,  but  they  are  referred  to  another  agent,  the  acting  or 
suffering  ego,  which  is  not  known  by  consciousness  to  have  any  sensible  or 
material  attributes,  or  rather,  which  is  known  to  have  no  such  properties. 
All  these  peculiarities  clearly  and  sharply  distinguish  the  two  classes  or 
species  of  phenomena.  We  positively  know  that  all  other  phenomena 
have  a  definite  relation  to  matter.  Psychical  phenomena  have  a  definite 
relation  to  an  agent  which  is  not  known  to  have  a  single  material  attri 
bute ;  which,  even  when  it  controls  matter,  is  known  by  consciousness  to 
be  totally  unlike  any  known  material  agent. 

2.  The  acting  ego  is  not  only  not  known  to  be  in  any  way 

The     soul     d's-  .,,.,..          .  ,  .  .  J          * 

tingntehM  itself    material,   but  it   distinguishes  its  own  actings,  states,  and 

from  matter.  *         ,  .        v- 

products,  and  even  itself,  trom  the  material  substance  with 
which  it  is  most  intimately  connected,  from  the  very  organized  body  on 
whose  organization  all  its  functions,  and  the  very  function  of  knowing  or 
distinguishing,  are  said  to  depend.  First,  it  distinguishes  from  this  body 
all  other  material  things  and  objects,  asserting  that  the  one  are  not  the 
other.  Second,  it  just  as  clearly,  though  not  in  the  same  way  or  on  the 
same  grounds,  distinguishes  itself  and  its  states  from  the  material  objects 
which  it  discerns.  It  knows  that  the  agent  which  sees  and  hears  is  not 
the  matter  which  is  seen  and  heard.  Third,  the  soul  also  distinguishes 
itself  and  its  inner  states  from  the  organized  matter — i.  e.,  its  own  bodily 
organs — by  means  of  which  it  perceives  and  is  affected  by  other  matter. 
Fourth,  it  resists  the  force  and  actings  of  its  own  body,  and,  in  so  doing, 
distinguishes  itself  as  the  agent  most  emphatically  from  that  which  it 
resists.  By  its  own  activity  it  struggles  against  and  opposes  the  corning 
on  of  sleep,  of  faintness,  and  of  death.  Even  in  those  conscious  acts  in 
which  it  feels  itself  most  at  the  disposal  and  control  of  the  body  it  recog- 
nizes its  separate  existence  and  independent  energy. 

3.  The  soul  is  self-active.    Matter  of  itself  is  inert.     The 
" aelf'    soul  is  impelled  to  action  from  within  by  its  own  energy. 

Matter  only  takes  a  new  position,  or  passes  into  a  new  state 


24  INTRODUCTION.  §21, 

as  it  is  acted  upon  by  a  force  from  without.  We  grant  that  the  soul  must 
begin  its  activities  at  the  awakening  of  the  senses ;  but  when  it  is  once 
awakened,  it  never  sleeps,  so  far  as  we  can  observe  or  infer.  If  the  senses 
should  furnish  it  no  new  objects,  it  would  go  on  without  intermitting  its 
action,  busying  itself  with  the  materials  already  furnished  under  laws  of 
its  own.  We  grant  also  that  to  what  it  perceives  and  desires  and  does,  it 
is  determined,  to  a  very  great  extent,  by  the  objects  which  present  them- 
selves from  without ;  but  these  direct  the  course  of  its  action  as  they  fur 
nish  objects ;  they  do  not  cause  it  to  act.  We  concede  even  that  its  energy 
in  action  is  dependent  on  material  conditions.  The  tension  and  healthful 
harmony  of  the  nervous  system  enables  the  soul  to  act  with  augmented 
force.  When  the  nerves  are  relaxed  or  disturbed,  as  in  faintness  or  dis- 
ease, the  force  of  the  soul  is  greatly  weakened  or  frightfully  disordered ; 
but  there  is  no  proof  that  any  bodily  conditions  can  arrest  the  activity 
that  is  impelled  from  within,  or  that  it  is  originated  by  any  such  condi- 
tions. In  this  respect  the  contrast  is  striking  between  matter  and  spirit. 
is  nrt  de  end  ^*  ^°  veiT  many  of  the  states  of  the  soul  no  changes  or 
ftehi^s?1^11  an<ections  of  the  organism  can  be  observed  or  traced,  as  their 
itjes.  condition  or  prerequisite.  It  is  argued  that  the  FOU!  and 

body  are  one  material  organism,  because  we  know  that  in  many  instances 
some  affection  of  the  one  is  necessary  as  the  condition  of  a  correspondent 
affection  of  the  other.  The  soul  cannot  see  unless  the  retina  is  painted  by 
the  light,  nor  can  it  hear  unless  the  ear  vibrates  through  sound.  Hence  it 
is  inferred  that  the  One  is  the  effect  of  the  other ;  and  if  the  soul  is  acted 
on  by  material  or  organic  causes,  it  must  be  material  in  its  substance  or 
structure.  It  ought  greatly  to  weaken  the  force  of  this  argument,  to 
observe  that  the  change  in  the  soul  is  in  its  nature  wholly  unlike  the  con- 
ditions which  go  before  it.  The  impression  on  the  eye  or  the  ear  has  no 
affinity  with  or  likeness  to  the  perception  which  follows.  Moreover,  the 
condition  in  the  organism  often  is  a  condition  simply  and  solely  as  it  fur- 
nishes an  object  which  the  soul  apprehends,  and  determines  nothing  in  the 
result,  except  so  far  as  it  gives  the  soul  an  occasion  to  know  one  thing  or 
object  rather  than  another ;  i.  e.,  the  eye  sees  rather  than  hears,  and  sees 
this  object  rather  than  another,  because  the  excited  organism  furnishes  the 
occasion.  But  the  conclusiveness  of  the  argument  is  entirely  broken,  when 
we  reflect  that  no  changes  in  the  organism  whatever  are  known  to  precede 
or  to  condition  the  most  numerous  and  the  most  important  psychical  states 
and  affections.  We  grant  that  the  landscape  which  we  see  must  first  be 
pictured  on  the  retina.  But  what  change  or  affection  of  the  material 
organism  occurs,  when  the  soul,  at  the  sight  of  this  landscape,  images 
another  like  it,  calls  up  by  memory  a  similar  scene,  which  was  seen  years 
before  a  thousand  miles  distant,  or,  by  creative  acts  of  its  own,  constructs 
picture  after  picture  that  are  more  beautiful  and  varied  than  the  one  it  ia 
beholding?  Or  what  bodily  changes  precede  desire  and  disgust,  houe 


§  21.  THE    RELATIONS    OF   THE   SOUL   TO   MATTER.  25 

and  fear,  at  these  memories  and  creations  ?  ISTo  such  changes  have  evei 
been  discerned.  No  ground  is  furnished  for  surmising  that  they  ever 
occur.  They  must  occur  in  every  instance,  to  justify  the  theory  of  tho 
materialist.  That  they  do  occur,  is  simply  assumed.  They  have  nevei 
been  observed. 

The  argument  of  the  materialist  stands  thus :  Certain  psychical  states  or  processes  re- 
quire as  their  condition  certain  organic  bodily  affections.  These  bodily  affections,  however, 
are  totally  unlike  the  mental  states  which  they  conditionate.  In  every  case  in  which  they  do 
occur,  they  present  new  objects  of  apprehension  and  feeling.  By  these,  and  by  these  only, 
the  soul  receives  its  knowledge  of  the  material  world.  Certain  other  mental  states,  far  more 
numerous  and  far  more  important,  are  attended  by  no  affections  of  the  body  whatever. 
Which,  then,  is  more  philosophical,  to  assume  that  such  organic  changes  do  occur  when  we 
cannot  trace  their  preseru^,  nor  any  appearance  of  an  organ  in  which  they  might  be  traced, 
or  to  which  they  might  be  referred,  because,  forsooth,  they  do  occur  when  we  can  trace 
them,  and  can  give  the  reason  for  their  occurrence ;  and  then,  with  the  aid  of  this  unauthor- 
ized assumption,  to  infer  that  the  soul  and  body  are  one  organism  ; — or  to  disbelieve  that  such 
bodily  changes  do  occur  as  the  conditions  of  mental  activity,  when  we  have  no  evidence  from 
observation  and  no  presumption  from  analogy  ? 

Gradntions  of  5.  The  regular  gradation  in  the  arrangement  of  the  several 
provencit  dt°0  nbe  kin(^s  of  material  existences,  and  the  progressive  develop- 
merit  from  the  lower  to  the  higher  forms  of  organized  mat- 
ter, do  not  of  them  selves,  prove  that  the  soul  is  matter  in  a  more  highly 
organized  form.  Nor  does  the  fact  that  the  transition  from  the  highest 
forms  of  organized  matter  to  the  lowest  types  of  psychical  activity  can- 
not be  readily  discriminated ;  nor  that  the  body,  which  is  organized  for 
the  uses  of  the  soul,  seems  in  its  development  to  assume  in  successive 
order  all  the  lower  types  of  organization,  force  us  to  believe  that  a  com- 
mon substance,  obeying  material  laws,  is  capable  of  rising  into  that  refine- 
ment of  organization  which  can  perform  the  functions  of  knowledge  and 
affection. 

These  facts  can  only  be  regarded  as  proof  by  the  man  who  assumes 
that  the  existence  of  immaterial  or  spiritual  being  is  impossible,  and  the 
belief  of  it  is  unphilosophical.  This  assumption  involves  the  inference 
that  there  is  no  spiritual  Creator,  on  whom  matter  depends  for  its  exist- 
ence, properties,  and  laws.  If  there  be  a  creating  Spirit,  who  originated 
and  controls  matter,  then  it  is  not  unphilosophical  to  believe  that  there 
may  be  a  created  spirit,  which  is  intimately  connected  with  and  affected 
by  a  material  organism,  or  which,  perhaps,  is  itself  the  organizing  agent. 

To  those  who  assume  that  there  can  be  no  extra-mundane  or  creating 
Spirit,  it  is  useless  to  attempt  to  prove  that  there  may  be  an  incorporeal, 
created  spirit. 

To  those  who  admit  that  there  is  or  may  be  a  creating  Spirit,  or  even 
to  those  who  believe  that  design  has  a  place  in  the  universe,  the  regu- 
larity of  development  and  progressive  transition  from  one  being  to 
another  will  indicate  a  unity  of  plan  in  the  creation  more  clearly  and 


26  INTRODUCTION.  §  23 

more  satisfactorily  than  they  will  prove  a  unity  of  material  substance  ir 
the  agent — a  unity  of  purpose  and  intention  in  the  order  and  beauty  of 
these  arrangements,  rather  than  a  unity  of  nature  and  destiny  in  the  lowei 
and  higher  kinds  of  beings. 

It  may  be  impossible  for  us  to  draw  the  line  where  material  organization  ends  and  spirituaj 
agency  begins,  where  unconscious  reaction  ceases  and  conscious  activity  emerges.  It  may  b4 
impossible  for  us  to  discover  the  properties  and  relations  of  organized  matter  which  fit  it  to 
be  the  instrument  or  the  medium  of  the  soul,  or  what  there  is  in  the  soul  that  fits  it  to  be 
developed  with  and  to  employ  this  organized  substance.  But  we  do  know  enough  about 
spirit  and  matter  to  affirm  that  if  spiritual  existence  is  possible,  and  if  it  be  necessary  from 
its  constitution  or  important  to  its  destiny  that  it  be  developed  with  or  organize  matter,  ther 
all  those  phenomena  by  which  it  seems  to  rise  by  a  natural  evolution  from  the  higher  forrrj 
of  matter,  and  to  crown  the  series  which  it  terminates,  as  "  the  bright  consummate  flower," 
are  fully  explained  by  the  unity,  the  beauty,  and  the  harmony  of  the  Creator's  plan,  and  d( 
not  require  to  be  resolved  by  a  unity  in  the  substance  which  they  manifest. 

This  is  afl  tliat  we  need  determine  at  the  present  stage  of  our 
inquiries.  What  is  the  substance  and  what  the  destiny  of  the  soul,  can 
be  fully  defined  and  vindicated  by  the  philosophy  and  theology  to  which 
psychology  is  the  appropriate  introduction. 

§  22.  It  is  important  to  remember,  however,  whatever  views 
5aJwSimP  we  accept  of  the  nature  of  the  soul,  that  its  phenomena  are 
as  real  as  any  other,  and  that  their  peculiarities  are  entitled 
to  a  distinct  recognition  by  the  true  philosopher.  Whatever  psychical 
properties  or  laws  can  be  established  on  appropriate  evidence,  they  al. 
deserve  to  be  accepted  as  among  the  real  agencies  and  laws  of  the 
actual  universe.  Perception,  memory,  and  reasoning  are  processes  that 
are  as  real  as  are  gravitation  and  electrical  action.  In  one  aspect  their 
reality  is  more  worthy  of  confidence  and  respect,  as  it  is  by  means  of  per- 
ception and  reasoning  that  we  know  gravitation  and  electricity.  Their 
peculiar  conditions,  elements,  and  laws,  so  far  as  they  can  be  ascertained 
and  resolved,  are  to  be  judged  by  their  appropriate  evidence,  and  to  be 
accepted  on  proper  testimony.  The  evidence  and  testimony  which  is 
pertinent  to  them,  may  be  as  pertinent  and  convincing,  though  different 
in  its  kind,  as  that  which  can  be  furnished  for  the  facts  of  sense  or  the 
laws  of  matter.  If  the  soul  knows  itself,  its  acts,  and  products,  by  i 
special  activity,  then  what  it  knows  ought  to  be  confided  in,  as  truly  a; 
what  it  knows  of  matter  by  a  different  process. 

Phenomena  of  §  23'  ^he  analogy  of  the  physical  sciences  establishes  this 
be6  jMgeTTy  principle,  and  enforces  it  as  a  universal  rule.  Facts  of  one 
those  of  another.  gort  are  no^  to  be  distrusted  because  they  differ  in  kind  OT 
quality  from  those  of  another  class.  Truths  of  one  kind  are  not  to  b€ 
measured  by  truths  of  another.  Phenomena  of  one  description  are  not 
to  be  solved  by  laws  that  hold  good  of  other  phenomena.  Chemical  facts 
and  laws  are  not  disputed  because  they  cannot  be  explained  by  rnechaiuca? 


g  24.  THE   RELATIONS    OF   THE   SOUL   TO   MATTER.  2? 

properties  and  powers.  The  functions  by  which  the  plant  is  nourished 
and  grows  are  not  to  be  doubted  because  they  cannot  be  explained  by 
the  laws  which  regulate  the  rise  of  water  in  a  pump,  or  those  which  unite 
an  acid  or  an  oil  with  an  alkali,  into  a  salt  or  a  "-soap.  Nor  are  the  circu- 
lation of  the  blood,  or  the  digestion  of  the  food,  to  be  questioned,  01 
violently  explained  by  laws  which  do  not  solve  them,  because  they  ex- 
hibit special  and  novel  agencies,  and  must  be  interpreted  by  peculiar 
methods.  We  are  indeed  prompted — we  are  even  compelled — to  reduce  all 
our  knowledge  to  unity,  and  we  therefore  seek  to  explain  two  events  and 
two  classes  of  phenomena,  if  it  is  possible,  by  a  single  agency  and  after 
a  single  law.  We  must  prefer  the  well-known  and  the  familiar  to  the 
unknown  and  the  untried  ;  but  if  we  do  not  succeed,  we  may  not  for  this 
reason  doubt  the  facts  or  pervert  and  misconstrue  the  laws.  If,  now,  there 
are  phenomena  concerning  man  which  are  discerned  by  consciousness  alone 
— if  also  their  truth  can  be  established  only  through  consciousness — then 
they  are  to  be  received  as  real,  whether  they  are  or  are  not  like  the  phe- 
nomena of  matter,  or  whether  they  can  or  cannot  be  explained  by  the  laws 
or  analogies  which  material  phenomena  illustrate  and  exemplify.  To  deny 
them,  is  unphilosophical.  To  attempt  to  explain  them  by  any  resort  to 
physical  analogies  which  fail  to  solve  them,  and  which  destroy  their 
integrity  or  essentially  alter  their  character,  is  to  be  more  unphilosophical 
still.  If  either  class  of  phenomena  should  take  precedence  of  and  give 
law  to  the  other,  the  spiritual  are  before  the  material,  for  the  reasons 
which  have  been  already  given. 
The  phenom-  8  24.  We  ought  also  to  distinguish  bet  ween  the  powers  and 

ena,    and     Ian-      ° 

guage  in  which  laws  which  consciousness  discovers,  and  the  medium  by 
scribed.  which  these  discoveries  are  recorded  and  made  known.  This 

medium  is  language,  in  the  large  acceptation  of  the  term — the  language 
of  signs,  of  looks,  and  of  words.  The  most  superficial  inspection  of  the 
words  which  describe  the  thoughts  and  feelings,  reveals  the  fact  conclu- 
sively that  they  were  all  originally  appropriated  to  material  objects  and  to 
physical  phenomena.  The  words  perceive,  understand,  imagine,  disyust, 
disturb,  adhere,  and  a  multitude  besides,  were  all  originally  applied  to 
some  material  act  or  event.  It  is  only  by  a  secondary  or  transferred  sig- 
nification that  they  stand  for  the  states  or  acts  of  the  soul. 

"  It  may  lead  us  a  little  toward  the  original  of  all  our  notions  and  knowledge,  if  we  remark  how  great 
&  dependence  our  words  have  on  common,  sensible  ideas  ;  and  how  those  which  are  made  use  of  to  stand 
for  actions  and  notions  quite  removed  from  sense,  have  their  rise  from  thence,  and  from  obvious  sensible 
ideas  are  transferred  to  more  abstruse  significations,  and  made  to  stand  for  ideas  that  come  not  under  Uie 
tognizance  of  our  senses ;  e.  g.,  to  imagine,  apprehend,  comprehend,  adhere,  conceive,  instil,  disgust,  <#* 
turbance,  tranquillity,  etc.,  are  all  words  taken  from  the  operations  of  sensible  things,  and  applied  to  cer 
tain  modes  of  thinking.  Spirit,  in  its  primary  signification,  is  breath ;  angel,  a  messenger  ;  and  I  doubt 
not  but  if  we  coiild  trace  to  their  sources,  we  should  find  in  all  languages  the  names  which  stand  for  thingi 
that  fall  not  under  our  senses  to  have  had  their  first  rise  from  sensible  ideas."— LOCKE,  Essay,  B.  iii.,  c.l,  §  a 

A  more  profound  inquiry  into  the  history  and  etymology  of  particular  languages  shorn 
beyond  question  that  the  radicals  and  many  primitive  words  were  first  applied  to  sensible  objects 


28  INTRODUCTION.  §  25, 

A.  careful  study  into  the  grounds  of  this  fact,  universally  observed,  will  show  that  it  could  not 
be  otherwise.  How  could  one  mind  first  communicate  with  another,  except  by  some  sensible 
Bign  common  to  both  ?  To  such  a  sign  the  speaker  must  direct  the  eye  of  the  hearer,  after 
which  it  could  stand  before  both  as  the  common  representative  or  symbol  of  the  thoughts  of 
tne  two.  It  is  not  easy  in  all  cases  to  decide  what  determined  the  selection  of  this  or  that 
physical  image  to  represent  a  particular  act  or  state.  Even  when  the  same  image  is  used  in 
dialects  and  languages  that  are  remote,  it  is  sometimes  difficult  to  ascertain  what  affinity  it  has 
for  the  spiritual  object.  But  the  facts  are  unquestioned.  In  many  cases  the  physical  image  ia 
forgotten,  and  has  passed  out  of  view.  But  in  many  others  it  is  more  or  less  forcibly  sug- 
gested whenever  the  word  is  used,  and  it  often  so  obtrudes  itself  as  to  mislead  and  confuse  the 
conceptions  and  reasonings  which  are  applied  to  spiritual  objects. — Cf.  K.  F.  Becker,  Das  Wort 
in  seiner  organischen-  Verwandlung. — §§  77-80. 

§  25.  The  physical  analogon  which  led  to  the  selection  of 
fiuence  of  lan-  the  word  often  lurks  behind  its  psychical  import,  and  is 

ready  suddenly  to  spring  out  before  the  eyes,  and  not  unfre- 
quently  to  suggest  erroneous  and  mischievous  conclusions.  Let  the  word 
impression  be  used,  as  it  naturally  is,  for  some  affection  of  the  intellect  or 
the  emotions,  and  it  is  not  unlikely  that  it  should  be  conceived  and  rea- 
soned of  as  involving  some  pressure  or  impulse.  A  mental  image  is  taken 
to  be  a  literal  drawing  or  picture  that  is  painted  on  the  '  presence-chamber ' 
of  the  soul,  or  can  be  restored  or  re-illuminated  by  the  memory.  The 
objects  of  the  external  world  are  said  to  be  out  of  the  mind,  while  the 
image  or  remembrance  is  said  to  be  in  it ;  as  though  the  soul  filled  a  por 
tion  of  space,  and  disposed  its  thoughts  within  its  walls  or  limits.  The  mem- 
ory is  conceived  as  a  storehouse  of  facts,  dates,  or  principles,  all  ready  to 
be  taken  down  or  drawn  out  when  required.  Consciousness  is  thought 
and  reasoned  of  as  though  it  were  an  inner  light,  which  illumines  by  its 
radiance  the  dark  and  winding  recesses  of  the  world  within.  Conscience 
is  the  voice  of  God,  speaking  with  the  distinctness  and  authority  of  audible 
speech. 

When  we  reflect  on  the  import  of  such  terms  in  their  application  to  the  soul,  we  readily 
assent  to  the  proposition  that  they  are  metaphors,  either  fresh  or  faded.  But  we  do  not  always 
observe,  nor  do  we  always  guard  against  the  insidious"  influence  of  the  image  from  which  the 
metaphor  was  taken.  When  we  are  occupied  with  the  thought,  and  not  with  the  word — when 
we  are  reasoning  earnestly,  or  seeking  a  solution  which  evades  us,  the  material  image  will  sup- 
ply a  suggestion  which  is  more  plausible  than  valid,  and  it  will  lead  us  to  a  conclusion  which 
is  both  foolish  and  false.  In  such  cases  we  reason  and  infer,  not  from  what  we  know,  but  from 
what  we  say ;  and  the  very  language  which  we  use  to  define  and  steady  our  thinking,  confusea 
and  distracts  it.  Inasmuch  as  all  the  language  which  we  use  is  mateiial  hi  its  origin  and  struc- 
ture, it  will  incidentally  favor  all  those  views  of  the  soul  which  are  materialistic,  either  as  pro- 
fessed theories  or  insensible  associations.  The  superficial  thinker  will  press  the  physical  senses 
of  the  words  which  he  uses  into  the  service  of  his  theories ;  the  careless  thinker  will  be 
imposed  upon  by  the  physical  associations  which  the  words  suggest.  When  difficulties  or  even 
contradictions  are  suggested  by  the  physical  sense  of  the  language  employed,  they  will  embar- 
rass and  disconcert  the  thinker  who  does  not  reflect  that  they  spring  from  the  representatioi 
of  the  phenomena  by  language,  and  not  from  the  phenomena  themselves.  Thus,  it  may  be 
urged,  How  can  the  so\l  act  at  a  point  where  it  is  not  present  ?  How  can  it  feel,  if  an  inprea 


§  25.  THE    RELATIONS    OF   THE    SOUL   TO    MATTER.  29 

eion  is  not  carried  to  its  portal  ?  How  can  it  originate,  without  itself  being  moved  ?  How 
can  it  be  conscious  of  its  states,  without  having  first  experienced  the  state  of  which  it  h  con 
scious  ?  The  physiologist,  in  attempting  to  explain  the  phenomena  of  sensible  perception,  a* 
he  passes  the  mysterious  line  which  divides  the  affection  of  the  organ  from  the  action  of  th« 
mind,  is  tempted  to  carry  with  him  material  conceptions,  by  the  very  force  of  the  language 
which  he  utters,  and  to  find  an  argument  for  the  truth  of  these  conceptions  in  the  very  Ian 
guage  which  he  is  forced  to  employ.  Indeed,  the  history  of  psychology  is  a  perpetual  testi 
mony  to  the  truth,  that  materialistic  conceptions  and  theories  find  their  readiest  justification  in 
the  terms  which  the  most  thorough  Spiritualist  is  forced  to  employ,  and  that  a  quasi -material- 
ism  seems  to  spring  out  of  the  very  language  by  which  it  is  confuted.  Hence  it  becomes  so 
important  that  the  conceptions  which  we  form  should  be  sharply  distinguished  from  the  lan- 
guage in  which  they  are  uttered ;  and  that  the  student  of  psychology  should  place  himself 
ever  on  his  guard  against  the  influence  of  the  images  and  associations  which  are  contin'ially 
put  into  his  mouth  by  the  language  which  the  necessities  of  his  being  force  him  to  use ;  which 
language,  however  high  it  may  soar  into  the  spiritual,  can  never  free  itself  from  the  matter  in 
which  all  its  terms  have  their  origin. 


THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  LIFE  AND  LIVING  BEINGS. 

The  considerations  already  presented  are  sufficient  to  prove  that  the  soul  is  not 
Reasons  for  material  in  its  structure.  But  its  relations  to  organized  or  living  matter  reqnire  a 
discussing  the  more  careful  analysis,  if  we  would  do  justice  to  all  the  questionings  of  modern  physi- 
subject  further.  ology,  and  conduct  our 'inquiries  in  a  thoroughly  scientific  spirit.  In  order  to  de- 
termine these  more  subtle  relations  of  the  soul  to  life  and  living  beings,  we  need  first 
to  ask  "  What  is  life,  or  what  is  a  living  being?  "  and  next  "  "What  are  the  relations  of  the  soul  to  life  ?" 
These  questions  have  been  often  asked,  and  variously  answered.  Recent  investigations  and  discussions 
have  invested  them  with  special  interest  and  importance. 

1.    Life  and  Living  Beings. 

Terms  defin-  Material  things  or  beings  are  readily  and  universally  divided  into  the  two  classes 
ed  and  question  of  organized  and  unorganized,  and  the  matter  of  which  each  is  composed  is  distin- 
guished as  organic  and  inorganic.  In  unorganized  beings,  the  material  constituents 
are  combined 'according  to  the  ordinary  laws  of  mechanical  and  chemical  union  into 
homogeneous  substances.  Organized  beings,  on  the  other  hand,  are  heterogeneous,  i.  e.,  they  are  made 
up  of  parts  which  are  unlike  in  structure,  form,  and  function.  Even  of  organized  beings  the  lowest  forma 
are  divided  into  parts  called  organs,  to  each  of  which  is  assigned  some  function  or  operation  which  w 
shared  by  no  other,  and  which  is  essential  to  the  existence  of  the  whole,  and  to  the  action  of  each  of  tb* 
parts.  A  being  so  constituted  is  an  organized  being,  or  an  organism,  and  its  matter  is  called  organic. 
An  organized  being,  when  in  such  a  condition  as  to  be  capable  of  performing  its  functions  under  ila 
appropriate  conditions  or  stimuli,  is  a  living  being.  The  condition  itself  is  called  life. 

So  far  all  parties  agree  in  their  definitions  and  theories.  But  as  soon  as  the  question  is  raise'!,  OB 
what  does  this  peculiar  condition  depend,  or  what  produces  and  sustains  that  form  of  existence  and 
action  which  is  organic  and  living,  we  find  that  philosophers  in  ancient  and  modern  times  differ  greatly 
in  the  answers  which  they  give. 

Among  the .  ancient  philosophers  the  atomists  explained  life  by  the  fortuitous  mix- 
Opinions  of  ture  of  atoms,  acting  by  the  mechanical  laws  which  were  by  them  rudely  conceived 
the  ancient  phi-  and  denned.  A  very  large  number,  however,  accounted  for  these  phenomena  by  a 
losophers.  separate  agent,  called  the  soul,  which,  alike  in  plants  and  animals,  was  thought  to  be 

the  cause  of  the  organic  structure,  and  its  organic  functions.  In  the  higher  forms  oi 
being,  as  in  man,  this  soul  or  vital  principle  was  supposed  to  attain  to  certain  emotional  and  intellectual 
functions.  As  the  capacity  for  the  highest  functions,  it  received  another  appellation,  and  in  the  opinion 
of  Aristotle,  as  h$  s  generally  interpreted,  this  higher  nature,  the  NoOs,  was  in  some  way  added  to  th« 
lower  force?,  and  qualified  to  maintain  a  separate  existence,  after  the  destruction  of  the  body. 

Plato  taught  positively,  though  in  mythical  language,  that  the  soul  is  pre-existent  to  the  body,  and 
immortal  in  its  duration ;  that  it  is  ethereal  in  its  essence,  opposite  in  every  respect  to  the  matter  tc 
which  it  is  reluctantly  subjected,  and  which  soils  its  purity,  obscures  its  intelligence,  and  weakonj 
Its  energy. 


30  INTRODUCTION.  §  25. 

The  distinction  of  bo^y,  soul,  and  spirit,  <rS>na,  \jjvxn,  irveCjxa,  is  sanctioned  by  the  wrLers  of  'he  Old 
and  New  Testaments,  and  was  adopted  by  the  early  Greek  fathers  as  being  psychologically  exact  and  ol 
great  scientific  and  theological  importance.  A  few  writers  made  the  irvevjua  of  the  New  Testament 
coincident  with  the  Platonic  and  Aristotelian  Nous,  and  the  \fivxn  equal  to  the  vital  and  phantastio  soul 
or  the  latter  only— reserving  the  o-wjua  for  vitalized  matter,  or  else  making  the  irvev^a.  to  be  th«i 
vitalizing  principle. 

In  modern  philosophy,  in  consequence  of  Platonic  and  Christian  ideas,  and  undel 
the  influence  of  the  philosophy  of  Descartes,  the  soul  has  been  more  sharply  con- 
°f  trasted  with  ma*ter  and  extension  in  all  its  forms.  As  a  natural  result,  the  soul,  as 
the  principle  and  agent  of  the  higher  functions,  was  separated  from  the  agent  of  living, 
organized  matter,  or  the  principle  of  life.  Under  the  influence  of  the  new  philosophy, 
—the  mechanical  philosophy  of  Descartes  and  of  Newton, — the  question,  what  is  the  living  principle,  as- 
Bumed  a  new  interest.  With  the  progress  of  modern  anatomy  and  physiology,  the  mechanical  structure 
of  the  skeleton  came  to  be  more  perfectly  understood,  and  the  adaptation  of  the  form  and  adjustments 
of  e^ery  one  of  its  parts  to  the  communication  of  force  and  the  direction  of  motion,  familiarized  and 
deepened  the  conviction  that  the  human  frame  in  its  structure  and  activities,  may  be  explained  by 
mechanical  relations  and  laws. 

The  discovery  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  by  the  contraction  and  dilatation  of  the  heart,  and  the 
connection  of  these  movements  with  the  expansion  and  contraction  of  the  lungs,  called  the  attention  of 
physiologists  more  distinctly  to  the  presence  of  mechanical  agencies  in  functions  where  their  presence 
had  not  been  suspected.  The  somewhat  recent  discoveries  of  modern  chemistry,  that  many  of  the  most 
Important  vital  functions,  as  respiration,  assimilation,  and  excretion,  are  attended  by,  or  result  in  the 
composition  and  decomposition  of  chemical  elements,  according  to  chemical  laws,  have  led  many  to 
contend  that  the  existence  of  the  organs  themselves,  and  the  combination  of  them  into  an  organism, 
are  to  be  ascribed  almost  entirely  to  chemical  agencies,  and  that  life  itself  is  but  an  abstract  term  for 
the  conspiring  activity  of  manifold  subtle  mechanical  and  chemical  forces.  Whatever  is  peculiar  in  the 
origination,  structure,  and  functions  of  living  beings,  it  is  believed  by  many,  can  be  accounted  for  by  the 
operation  of  the  mechanical  and  chemical  properties  of  matter  in  obedience  to  their  well-known  laws, 
acting  under  special  conditions. 

This  theory  is  rejected  as  unsatisfactory  by  very  many  eminent  physiologists  and  physiological 
chemist?.  They  contend  with  equal  earnestness  that  the  phenomena  peculiar  to  living  beings  cannot 
be  explained  without  the  supposition  of  some  additional  property  or  agent,  which  is  essential  to  theit 
formation  and  preservation,  as  well  as  to  the  performance  of  many  of  their  peculiar  functions. 

This  agent,  cause  or  force,  has  received  various  appellations.  Blumenbach  calls  it 
Various  appel-  ^e  nisusformativus  or  Biidungs-trieb  ;  John  Hunter  the  vital  principle  ;  William  Prout, 
lations  for  vital  the  organic  agent,  the  distinguished  John  Muller,  the  organic  force.  It  is  more  usually 
force.  called  the  vital  force.  Schmid  of  Dorpat  terms  it  somewhat  carefully  the  transmuting 

cell  power,  and  Bischoff,  of  Muilch,  defines  it  as  "  the  peculiar  and  individual  cause  or 
force  which  creates  and  shapes  the  whole  body,  and  manifests  psychical  qualities  by  means  of  the  brain," 
thus  blending  the  vital  and  psychical  force  in  one. 

In  support  of  the  opinion  that  there  is  such  an  agent  or  force,  the  following  reasons  are  urged  : 

1.  Every  living  being  originates  from  a  being  that  is  already  organized  or  living. 
Life  originates  ^°  we"  authenticated  account  has  been  given  of  the  production  of  the  lowest  form  of 
only  from  a  life  in  any  other  way.  No  experiment  has  ever  been  successful  which  had  for  ill 
living  being.  object  the  origination  of  a  living  being  from  elements  that  were  not  already  living 

Even  those  substances  or  things  of  which  we  can  hardly  say  whether  they  are  or  ar»» 
not  living,  are  produced  from  an  existence  like  themselves,  or  from  some  seed,  cell,  spore,  or  organized 
portion  of  matter  that  has  the  same  kind  or  degree  of  life.  Without  going  back  to  the  first  beginning  of 
things,  or  raising  any  questions  about  subsequent  acts  of  creation,  we  find  the  fact  unquestioned,  that 
the  existing  world  of  nature  is  divided  into  organized  and  unorganized  matter,  and  that,  while  tho 
organized  depends  on  the  unorganized  for  the  conditions  of  its  existence,  and  when  these  conditions  fail 
Is  resolved  into  it  again,  it  has  yet  never  been  known  to  originate  from  this  alone.  This  fact  or  law 
widely  extended  and  universally  prevalent,  indicates,  if  it  does  not  prove,  that  living  beings  depend  upoft 
a  force  and  obey  laws  which  to  some  jxtent  are  peculiar  to  themselves. 

Huxtey  concedes  th'S  fairly  and  distinctly—"  I  need  not  tell  you,  "  he  says  (Origin  of  Species,  III.; 
"that  chemistry  is  an  enormoue  distance  from  the  goal  I  indicate.  *  *  *  It  may  be  that  it  is  im- 
possible for  us  to  produce  the  conditions  requisite  to  life;  but  we  must  speak  modestly  about  the  matter, 
and  recollect  that  science  has  put  her  foot  upon  the  bottom  round  of  the  ladder.  Truly  he  would  be  » 
bold  man  who  would  venture  to  predict  where  she  will  be  fifty  years  hence.'' 

Tf  life  were  but  another  name  for  a  peculiar  combination  and  activity  of  mechanical  and  chemical 
forces,  we  might  presume  that  somewhere  and  at  some  time,  these  had  been,  or  might  be  combined  BO 
as  to  produce  living  beings  or  the  germs  of  the  same,  and  that  in  the  lowest  or  more  elementary  forms  of 
ttfe  there  would  be  some  suggestion  or  semblance  of  such  origination.  But  neither  observation,  experi- 
ment nor  history  give  record,  or  hint  ot  Mich  an  occurrence.  The  belief  in  its  possibility  is  a  matter  Oi 


£25.  THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  MATTER.  31 

pore  inference.  The  doctrine  of  the  evolution  of  the  organic  from  the  inorganic,  as  held  by  Darwin  an< 
Herbert  Spencer,  is  founded  on  a  special  metaphysical  theory,  resting  on  analogies  violently  strained 
from  observed  facts,  but  not  confirmed  by  a  single  observed  event,  or  experimentum  crucis.  The  only 
evolutions  and  developments  actually  observed,  lie  respectively  within  the  spheres  of  the  organic  and  the 
inorganic.  The  one  sphere  has  never  been  evolved  or  developed  from  the  other. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  and  even  the  analogies  which  they  suggest,  there  is  little  force  in  Spencer'i 
confident  assertion,  founded  on  mere  metaphysical  romancing.  Though  he  applies  his  remark  to  tha 
evolution  of  one  organism  from  another,  yet  he  would  extend  it  to  the  evolution  of  the  organic  from  the 
inorganic.  "  If  instead  of  the  successive  minutes  of  a  child's  fretal  life  we  take  successive  generations  of 
creatures — if  we  regard  the  successive  generations  as  differing  from  each  other  no  more  than  the  ftstua 
did  in  successive  minutes,  our  IMAGINATIONS  must  indeed  be  feeble  if  we  fail  to  realize  in  thought  the 
evolution  of  the  most  complex  organism  out  of  the  simplest.  If  a  single  cell,  under  appropriate  condi 
tions,  becomes  a  man  in  the  space  of  a  few  years,  there  can  surely  he  no  difficulty  in  understanding  how, 
under  appropriate  conditions,  a  cell  may  in  the  course  of  untold  millions  of  years,  give  origin  to  tho 
human  race."— Principles  of  Biology,  §  US. 

2.  The  process  of  nutrition  or  growth  is  peculiar  in  respect  of  Its  material  and  the 
The  process  of  method  of  assimilation,  neither  of  which  can  be  explained  by  mechanical  or  chem- 
nutrition  and  ical  forces  or  laws. 

growth  peculiar.  The  ]iying  being  ig  conipoBed  of  material  constituents,  it  has  chemical  and  mechan- 

ical properties,  and  to  a  certain  extent  rbeys*the  laws  which  these  properties  involve. 
As  it  adds  to  its  substance  by  nutrition,  and  increases  its  size  by  growth,  its  aliment  possesses  material 
properties  and  obeys  material  laws.  But  while  tbe  aliment,  the  process  and  the  product,  all  show  these 
properties  and  comply  with  these  laws,  neither  these  actions  nor  their  results  exclude  the  cooperation  of 
another  force.  Nor,  again,  does  the  belief  in  such  a  force  require  us  to  believe  that  it  produces  effects 
not  evident  to  the  senses,  or  that  it  manifests  its  presence  and  power  in  any  way  except  by  controlling 
and  modifying  the  action  of  the  lower  forces. 

That  these  forces  are  so  controlled  in  nutrition  and  growth,  is  evident  from  the  general  fact  that 
nutrition  and  growth  can  only  be  expected  from  an  aliment  which  has  been  already  modified  by  the 
action  of  eome  living  being.  The  fact  is  now  well  established,  that  the  food  of  every  species  of  animal- 
life,  the  lowest  as  well  as  the  highest,  must  directly  or  indirectly  be  prepared  for  assimilation  in  the 
vegetable  kingdom.  The  chemical  materials  which  enter  so  largely  into  its  substance  cannot  be  appro- 
priated in  their  inorganic  condition  from  the  earth,  the  air,  and  water  in  which  they  abound.  The  begin- 
ning of  all  nutrition  is  in  vegetable  life,  and  the  beginning  of  vegetable  life  is  in  the  vegetable  cell.  But 
this,  it  would  seem,  must  directly  assimilate  its  chemical  constituents,  so  that  in  the  last  resort,  it  might 
be  urged,  we  find  the  organic  feeding  on  the  inorganic.  On  inspection  of  the  cell,  however,  we  find  thai 
It  begins  to  exist  with  its  food  already  prepared.  The  living  being — the  cell — not  only  owes  its  existence 
to  another  living  being,  but  it  derives  from  such  a  being  the  food  by  which  it  is  to  be  nourished,  which 
food  is  in  a  certain  sense  living.  So  soon  as  it  exists  as  an  organism,  it  exists  with  its,  so  to  speak,  or- 
ganized  aliment — an  aliment  affected  by  the  action  of  a  force  peculiar  to  the  organism.  Its  growth 
depends  upon  the  preparation  of  its  food  as  well  as  upon  the  process  of  assimilating  it  to  its  substance. 
The  food  of  both  animal  and  vegetable,  though  chemical  in  its  constitution,  is  also  organic  or  partially 
organized. 

"Without  insisting  on  any  thing  that  is  in  dispute,  or  is  yet  undetermined  among  chemists  and  physi- 
ologists, as  to  the  peculiarity  of  the  compounds  that  are  formed  in  organic  assimilation,  or  the  laws  of 
their  formation,  without  even  insisting  upon  the  catalytic  process,  which  is  peculiar  to  organic  beings, 
we  are  content  to  contrast  the  formation  of  the  crystal  with  the  growth  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  cell 
The  liquid  in  which  the  crystal-nucleus  is  placed,  and  from  which  it  is  formed,  has  certain  chemical 
Ingredients,  which  neither  itself  nor  any  other  nucleus  has  any  influence  in  providing  or  preparing.  It 
surrounds  this  nucleus,  to  the  external  walls  of  which  certain  of  its  elements  are  attached  by  mechanical 
adhesion  in  regular  forms.  The  wall  or  coat  of  the  animal  or  vegetable  cell,  on  the  other  hand,  is  an 
agent  that  strains  and  secretes  aliment  through  its  substance  and  brings  it  within  its  limits,  making 
it  a  part  of  itself.  When  it  has  prepared  it  for  uso,  it  proceeds  to  assimilate  it  to  itself.  Its  growth 
is  not,  however,  a  mere  enlargement  of  bulk  by  accretion  of  new  matter  to  the  individual  cell  already 
In  being.  It  can  only  grow  as  it  prepares  new  cells,  each  like  itself  in  structure  and  function,  and  adda 
them  to  itself  by  the  closest  union.  The  cell — the  beginning  of  life — not  only  begins  with  an  aliment 
prepared,  but  with  the  capacity  to  produce  another  cell,  and  by  this  production  it  grows.  This  process 
of  growth,  though  involving  mechanical  and  chemical  processes  and  results,  is  a  process  wholly  un- 
known to  the  mechanics  and  chemistry  of  other  kinds  of  matter,  and  cannot  be  accounted  for  bj  such 
processes  Jr  laws  either  singly  or  in  combination. 

In  all  other  combinations  except  the  vital,  the  result  or  product  is  purely  mechanical  or  chemical,  and 
te  distinguished  by  mechanical  and  chemical  attributes.  These  may  be  unlike  those  of  the  constituents, 
but  they  are  clearly  like  thorn  as  being  mechanical  and  chemical,  and  nothing  more.  The  properties  of  a 
neutral  salt,  though  unlike,  and  perhaps  opposed  to  those  of  either  of  the  constituting  elements,  still  obey 
naechar  icul  and  chemical  laws,  and  produce  effects  which  are  appropriate  to  these  modes  of  action  It 


82  INTRODUCTION.  §  25. 

the  organic  product  the  renull  is  an  agent  capable  of  a  functl  /n  01  mode  of  action  peculiar  to  a  U  ring 
being,  a  function  which  can  bo  said  to  be  chemical  or  mechanical  only  so  far  as  it  deals  with  mat';nai 
substances,  and  controls  their  properties  in  a  manner  peculiar  to  itself.  Thus  the  lungs,  the  heart,  a'»d 
the  brain  have  definite  chemical  constituents,  perhaps  the  same  or  perhaps  not  the  same  in  each.  Bat 
the  product  in  each  is  an  organ  capable  of  a  special  and  unshared  function,  which  controls  and  modifies 
the  mechanical  and  chemical  properties  of  inorganic  being,  but  is  not  itself  for  that  reason  a  mechannAl 
or  chemical  agent. 

3.  Growth  in  a  living  being  proceeds  after  a  definite  plan,  and  is  adapted  to  the  end 
Ghowtli        pro-     of  the  individual  and  the  species.    This  adaptation  applies  to  the  structure,  form,  and 
ceeds     after    a     function  of  every  part  and  organ. 

Plan'  Inorganic  accretions  are  homogeneous  in  respect  to  material,  figure,  and  properties. 

With  a  given  nucleus  and  a  given  material,  the  union  is  of  the  same  to  the  same,  and 
the  product,  so  far  as  structure  is  concerned,  is  similar  in  all  its  parts.  The  form  is  determined  by  some 
mechanical  agency,  which  is  purely  accidental,  and  hence  such  substances  are,  with  one  exception,  said 
to  be  formless,  i.  e.,  without  determined  form.  In  the  crystal,  with  homogeneity  of  structure,  there  is 
definiteness,  and  to  a  certain  extent,  variety  of  form.  But  the  symmetrical  variety  in  the  species  in 
accounted  for  by  the  law  of  polarity,  determining  a  special  mechanical  structure  in  a  special  chemical 
material.  Deviations  in  the  individual  from  the  form  of  the  species,  are  referred  to  some  disturbing 
mechanical  influence,  which  arrests  or  impedes  the  production  of  the  completed  form. 

But  in  organic  growth  the  structure  is  heterogeneous.  The  several  parts,  t".  e.,  organs  of  a  plant  or 
animal  are  more  or  less  unlike  in  their  chemical  constitution,  though  they  are  fed  by  the  same  aliment* 

They  are  still  more  unlike  in  form.  The  root,  the  stem,  the  bud,  the  bark,  the  leaf,  the  flower  of  every 
plant,  the  external  members,  and  the  internal  organs  of  the  simplest  animal,  are  unlike  each  other,  even 
to  the  halves  of  the  same  pairs.  The  wholes  made  up  of  these  parts  are  unequal  in  si^-e  in  each  individ 
nal.  There  is  nothing  in  the  action  of  any  known  mechanical  or  chemical  forces  to  indicate  or  accoun 
for  this  diversity,  which  is  constantly  repeated,  and  runs  into  every  minute  and  subordinate  detail. 

These  several  parts  are  not  only  diverse  in  their  structure  and  form  but  they  are  also  diverse  in  theii 
functions.  To  each  is  assigned  a  duty  which  is  peculiar  to  itself  and  which  no  other  does  or  can 
perform. 

But  each  part  though  diverse  and  peculiar  in  each  of  these  particulars  is  adapted  to  every  other  in 
each  ;  to  the  structure,  the  form,  and  function  of  every  other,  which  all  together  are  adapted  to  the  form, 
material  and  sphere  of  existence  of  the  whole  which  these  parts  compose.  Each  part  has  a  form  not 
only  more  or  less  adapted  to  the  successful  discharge  of  its  functions,  but  also  to  the  form  of  every  other 
part,  so  as  with  it  to  make  a  whole  Avhich  shall  be  convenient  for  its  uses  and  perhaps  distinguished  by 
beauty  and  grace.  The  function  of  each  organ  is  adapted  to  act  with  the  function  of  every  other,  in 
such  a  way  that  the  continued  existence  of  the  whole  is  maintained;  and  the  well-being  of  the  whole  in 
its  turn  promotes  the  well-being  and  successful  action  of  the  parts. 

This  growth  after  a  plan  is  peculiar  to  living  or  organized  beings.  In  the  known  operation  of  me- 
chanical and  chemical  laws  there  is  nothing  which  secures  such  a  devolopement  or  result.  The  plnn  in 
volves  more  than  the  perfection  of  a  single  individual ;  it  contemplates  the  production  of  several  individ 
uals  of  different  characteristics  before  the  cycle  is  completed  and  ready  to  bc'gin  anew.  Should  th'i  pos- 
sibilities of  development  within  the  sphere  of  living  beings  be  proved  to  be  greatly  extended,  as  far  as 
the  most  extravagant  theorists  contend,  it  would  only  increase  the  mystery  of  life,  because  it  wouM  en- 
large the  complexity  of  the  plan  which  the  living  force  tends  to  complete,  and  of  the  destiny  which  it  ia 
able  to  fulfil.  The  egg  of  the  winged  moth,  or  butterfly,  includes  in  the  plan  and  destiny  of  its  Iwing 
capacities  to  be  developed  into  and  through  three  forms  of  existence.  This  does  not  set  aside  the  truth 
that  the  egg  is  developed  after  a  plan,  but  rather  confirms  and  enforces  it. 

4.  Living  beings  are  still  further  peculiar,  in  that  their  existence  and  growth  involve 
Matter   changes      a  constant  change  of  material  in  consistency  with  integrity  of  being  and  samenrss  of 
but  form  is  pre-      form.    Combinations  purely  mechanical  and  chemical,  when  completed,  remain,  or 
served.                      jf  there  is  any  action  or  reaction  in  the  material,  they  are  attended  with  change  of 

structure  or  alteration  of  form.  But  in  a  plant  or  animal,  the  whole  or  large  portions 
of  their  substance  are  changed  in  a  longer  or  shorter  period,  while  the  form  is  unaltered,  or  if  changed 
it  in  enlarged  after  the  original  pattern.  "While  gradual  and  often  unobserved  changes  of  structure  are 
going  on,  the  functions  of  each  part  are  not  in  the  least  interrupted. 

5.  Organic  beings  are  very  largely  susceptible  of  repair.    A  carious  bone  may  be 
hollowed  out,  and  yet,  if  the  periosteum  remains  entire,  the  cavity  may  be  filled  by  a 

pair   a<3mit8  re"      second  growth.  The  paws  of  the  salamander  may  be  cut  off,  and  the  whole  be  rf*tored 
after  the  pattern  of  the  first.    The  bones,  twenty  or  more,  the  skin,  nerves,  muscle*, 
and  vessels,  all  will  be  reproduced  in  as  perfect  adaptation  as  in  the  original.     (Flcu- 
'ens,  De  la  Vie  et  de  T  Intelligence,  P.  /.,  sec.  /.,  c.  ?.) 

No  phenomenon  like  this  is  known  to  chemical  and  mechanical  forces  or  their  laws. 
These  features,  all  of  which  are  more  or  less  conspicuously  manifested  in  all  organic  and  living  beings^ 
have  led  many  of  the  most  eminent  physiologists  to  ihe  conclusion  that  there  is  an  organic  or  vital  foicc 


§25.  TELE  RELATIONS   OF   THE  SOUL  TO   MATTER.  33 

In  every  living  being.  Such  a  force  must  from  its  nature  be  an  individual  force,  possessing,  indeed,  the 
common  characteristics  which  we  have  noticed,  but  maintaining  in  each  an.  activity  which  begins  and 
ends  with  its  individual  existence.  In  this  respect  this  description  of  force  is  strikingly  contrasted  with 
all  known  activities  of  general  physical  laws.  A  mechanical  force  can  be  imparted  and  withdrawn,  again 
and  again,  to  and  from,  the  same  mass  of  matter.  Its  parts  can  be  separated  and  again  be  compressed 
and  united  so  as  to  restore  its  integrity.  The  same  chemical  elements  can  be  combined  and  decomposed 
into  substantially  the  same  product,  with  the  same  particles,  in  the  same  form,  and  capable  of  similar 
functions.  But  a  living  being,  when  its  integrity  is  destroyed,  can  never  live  again.  Should  the  samo 
particles  be  again  united  in  an  organism  it  would  not  be  the  same  being.  Its  individuality  is  indicated 
by  beginning  with  a  germ,  maintaining  continuous  nutrition,  and  discharging  uninterrupted  functions. 

The  conclusion  which  we  have  reached,  that  there  is  a  separate  vital  principle  or 

Opposite   views      force  is  rejected  by  many  philosophers  and  physiologists.    Those  who  hold  that  the 

'  stated    and    de-      soul  is  material  in  its  composition,  must  of  necessity  reject  the  view  that  there  is  a 

finod.  separate  principle  of  life.    Those  who  account  for  the  existence  of  the  higher  form? 

of  being  in  matter,  life  and  spirit,  by  a  preconceived  theory  of  evolution  of  the  highel 
from  the  lower,  are  precluded  by  the  necessity  of  their  metaphysical  theory  from  accepting  a  vital  force. 
"We  may  properly  leave  the  views  and  arguments  of  both  these  classes  unconsidered  and  notice  the  mort 
plausible  reasons  which  are  urged  by  many  eminent  physiologists  of  other  schools. 

The  view  which  they  hold  in  common,  under  a  great  variety  of  special  diversities  of  opinion,  may  b« 
expressed  in  the  following  proposition.  The  terms  life,  living,  &c.,  are  general  and  abstract  expressions 
for  a  great  variety  of  powers  and  processes,  which  a\a  proved  or  may  be  presumed  to  be  chemical  and 
mechanical.  The  fact  that  these  processes  and  powers  are  so  very  peculiar  in  their  phenomena  and  their 
products,  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  special  combinations  or  special  conditions  in  which  they  aot. 
Thus  Carpenter  defines  life  "  as  the  state  of  action  peculiar  to  an  organized  body  or  organism."  He  con- 
tends that  there  would  be  no  objection  save  the  probability  of  its  abuse  to  the  employment  of  the  terms 
"  Vital  Principle,"  "  Nisus  Formativus '' or  "  Organic  Force, '' as  convenient  names  for  the  unknown 
powers  which  are  thus  developed. 

Richerand  defines  life  as  "a  collection  of  phenomena  which  succeed  each  other  during  a  limited  time 
In  an  organized  body."  De  Blainville  says  :  "  Life  is  the  twofold  internal  movement  of  composition  and 
decomposition  at  once  general  and  continuous."  "  Life,"  according  to  Mr.  G.  H.  Lewes,  "  is  a  series  of  defi- 
nite composite  changes  both  of  structure  and  composition  which  take  place  in  an  individual  without  de- 
stroying its  identity."  Herbert  Spencer,  after  several  tentative  definitions,  concludes  with  this  :  Life  i« 
"  the  definite  combination  of  definite  composite  heterogeneous  changes,  both  simultaneous  and  successive, 
in  correspondence  with  external  coexistences  and  sequences."  R.  Virchow  makes  "  the  vital  force  to  be 
the  expression  of  the  definite  co-working  of  physical  and  chemical  forces."  Lotze,  the  distinguished 
physiologist  of  G-ottingen,  says,  that  "  living  functions  are  not  simply  forces  but  capacities  for  function* 
which  arise  out  of  the  special  method  of  conjoining  material  particles  into  a  coherent  system."  All  life, 
in  his  view,  depends  "  on  the  complicated  relations  under  which  the  physical  powers  act  as  an  organism." 

As  a  general  argument  in  support  of  his  views  Carpenter  uses  an  illustration  which 
Carpenter's  il-  we  PreBume  would  be  accepted  by  all  who  reject  a  "  vital  force."  "  We  shall  sup- 
lustration  and  pose  a  young  physiologist,  entirety  ignorant  of  physical  science,  but  educated  in  im- 
argument.  plicit  faith  in  the  vital  principle,  witnessing  for  the  first  time  the  action  of  the  steam 

engine."  "  He  would  observe  a  machine  of  various  parts,  would  try  various  expert 
menta,  would  perceive  that  the  actions  are  as  unlike  as  the  parts,  and  all  tend  to  one  result.1"  "  Henn* 
he  may  safely  conclude  that  the  whole  series  of  phenomena  is  due  to  one  presiding  agency — a  '  steam 
engine  principle,' — by  the  operation  of  which  upon  the  material  structure,  its  actions  are  produced  and 
made  to  harmonize  with  each  other  and  with  their  ultimate  object."  In  our  view  no  example  could 
possibly  be  employed  which  is  better  fitted  to  refute  the  theory  of  Dr.  Carpenter,  and  establish  th« 
opposite,  than  is  this  very  illustration.  The  reason  why  it  is  absurd  to  accept  a  "  steam-engine  princi- 
ple "  in  a  steam  engine,  and  not  absurd  to  accept  a  vital  principle  in  a  living  being,  is  that  a  careful  study 
of  the  parts  of  the  machine  which  are  alleged  to  be  analogous  to  the  organs  of  the  body,  reveals  thu 
operation  of  forces  that  in  other  connections  are  familiarly  known  in  their  laws  and  their  products.  Thert 
ia  nothing  new  in  the  action  of  the  separate  parts  of  the  engine  when  separate  and  when  combined  in 
*  whole.  Each  part,  as  a  part,  only  does  what  we  have  often  observed  in  other  cases.  The  joint  action 
of  many  of  the  parts,  their  conspiring,  correcting  and  modifying  movements,  is  just  what  we  should  pre- 
lict  if  we  had  analyzed  those  several  forces  and  carefully  computed  their  result.  "We  reject  the  steam- 
engine  principle  by  the  law  of  parsimony,  because  no  such  force  is  needed  to  account  for  the  result.  We 
accept  the  vital  principle  because  no  known  force  or  function  is  adequate,  or  may  be  fairly  presumed  from 
analogy  to  be  adequate  to  the  result.  The  nature  of  heat,  its  power  to  generate  steam,  the  elastic  fcroe  of 
Bteam,  the  means  of  producing  it,  the  various  devices  by  which  it  can  be  introduced  and  displaced,  the 
methods  of  converting  the  direct  motion  into  the  circular,  are  all  familiar  in  other  connecticns.  If  a 
»ingle  phrase  01  term  is  used  for  their  combined  action  as  directed  to  one  result,  such  a  terra  'a  at  once 

a 


34  INTRODUCTION  §  25, 

understood  to  be  nothing  more  than  an  abstract  expression  for  the  conspiring  activity  of  well  known 
agents.  If  the  illustration  were  pertinent  to  the  vital  force,  and  established  Carpenters  doctrine,  it  ought 
to  be  possible  to  analyze  the  living  body  into  certain  organs,  each  possessed  of  well-known  powers  and 
acting  after  well-known  laws,  and  producing  or  tending  to  results  that  each,  fully  and  clearly  accounts  for. 
But  this  is  not  possible.  There  are  separate  organs,  each  endowed,  it  is  true,,  with  certain  mechanical 
and  chemical  properties,  but  these  organs,  with  all  these  capacities  and  tendencies  to  action,  do  not  in  their 
combination  explain  the  functions  nor  define  the  conception  of  a  living  being.  It  is  because  these 
properties  are  modified  and  controlled  to  functions  and  results  unknown  in  any  other  connection  tha 
we  ask  what  is  the  power  which  controls  them.  It  may  be  said  that  they  overrule  and  control  one  another, 
or  that  they  act  with  or  against  one  another,  and  so  the  result  follows  and  this  co-action  or  counteraction 
of  such  known  forces  is  life.  To  this  we  have  only  to  rejoin  that  we  cannot  trace  the  result  to  the 
known  joint  or  counter  action  of  one  force  with  another.  There  is  nothing  in  the  nature  or  tendency  of 
these  forces  supposed  when  acting  alone  which  would  lead  us  even  to  suspect  that  such  results  as  those 
in  question  would  follow  when  they  act  in  conjunction. 

We  allow,  as  has  been  already  said,  that  chemical  and  mechanical  properties  and  laws  are  present  in 
a  living  being,  for  we  trace  their  presence  and  measure  their  action  ;  but  inasmuch  as  this  action  is  con- 
trolled by  some  agency  other  than  their  combined  action,  so  far  as  known  to  us,  we  are  compelled  to  ask, 
What  is  that  agency  ?  We  are  driven  back  to  the  necessity  of  assuming  that  there  is  an  agency  or  force 
which  is  distinct  and  separate  from  the  combined  activity  of  forces  already  known. 

Under  the  pressure  of  this  difficulty,  those  who  reject  a  vital  force  adopt  one  of  two 
Two  other  ex-  expedients.  They  either  assert  that  the  special  combinations  of  mechanical  and 
pedients  resort-  chemical  elements  which  occur  in  living  beings  develop  capacities  before  unknown 
*dta  and  unsuspected,  because  undeveloped,  or  they  find  in  the  special  circumstances  and 

conditions  of  living  beings  a  sufiicieiit  explanation  of  the  development  of  these  before 
Unknown  capacities,  in  the  new  form  of  vital  processes  and  phenomena.  In  respect  to  both  they  reason, 
that  though  there  is  no  decisive  evidence  that  these  new  combinations  of  forces  or  the  special  conditions 
of  their  action  do  develop  these  special  mechanical  or  chemical  agencies,  yet  the  probability  that  they  do  is  so 
overwhelming  as  to  stand  in  place  of  a  demonstration,  until  the  contrary  has  been  shown  to  be  impossible. 

Thus  M.  J.  Schleiden  reasons,  "  It  fa  certain  that  chemistry  has  solved  many  questions  in  respect  to 
life  by  means  of  the  same  laws  which  operate  in  inorganic  bodies  ;  that  no  one  doubts  that  electricity 
and  galvanism  affect  organic  beings ;  these  are  with  all  bodies  subject  to  the  laws  of  gravitation,  cohe- 
sion, adhesion,  &c.,  &c.  Nor  do  we  as  yet  know  the  limits  of  the  efliciency  of  any  one  of  these  forces  in 
organic  beings.  Conceding  that  there  were  a  special  vital  force,  so  much  is  clear,  that  we  ought  not  to 
speak  of  it  until  not  a  doubt  remained  that  we  had  fully  investigated  to  its  extremest  limits  the  sphere 
of  the  efficiency  of  all  the  organic  forces  in  organic  beings.  Then  only  could  we  be  in  a  situation  to  deter- 
mine  with  absolute  certainty  whether,  of  that  whole  which  we  call  life,  a  greater  or  smaller  portion  re- 
mained which  could  not  be  referred  to  inorganic  agencies.  Thus,  and  thus  only,  could  we  reach  a  vita! 
force."— (  Grundzuge  der  wissenschqfllichen  Botanik,  Leipzig.  1 845. ) 

In  the  same  spirit  Lotze  urges  that  the  necessity  of  resorting  to  a  vital  force  can  only  be  demon- 
strated by  first  exhausting  every  conceivable  experiment  and  theory  which  supposes  the  possible  opera- 
tion of  mechanical  and  chemical  laws.  Whale  he  candidly  concedes  that  no  experiments  prove  this,  he 
dogmatically  advances  the  theory  that  there  may  still  be  certain  points  of  affinity  and  action  between 
inorganic  agencies,  which,  if  known,  would  fully  explain  the  vital  phenomena. 

Of  these  suggestions  of  possible  modes  and  conditions  of  action,  we  can  only  say  that  if 
.,_  ,  ,  there  are  no  indications  of  such  modes  and  conditions,  it  is  unphilosophical  to  believe 

they  are  possi-  them.  To  do  so  would  require  a  course  of  induction  that  would  set  aside  the  force  of 
ble.  the  methods  of  agreement  and  difference,  neither  of  which  could  prove  any  thing 

against  the  possible  suggestion  of  unknown  and  unindicated  methods  of  action.  The 
simple  fact  that  these  lower  forces  are  known  to  be  present  in  organic  beings,  and  to  be  effective  of  certain 
results,  suggests  no  more  than  the  bare  possibility  of  their  activity  to  other  and  even  to  vital  effects,  but  if 
possibility  does  not  ripen  into  evidence  by  positive  tests,  it  must  be  set  aside.  The  fact  that  these  agencies, 
as  Bchleiden  intimates,  have  explained  certain  vital  phenomena  before  deemed  inexplicable,  signifies  no 
more  than  that  we  now  trace  their  presence  further  than  we  had  suspected  it ;  but  it  does  not  in  the  least 
account  for  the  peculiarity  of  certain  other  effects  which  chemistry  and  mechanics  can  in  no  way  explain. 

But  it  is  urged  that  an  analogous  fact  is  f  -.rnished  in  the  formation  of  many  chemical  compounds— 
aa  when  certain  neutral  salts  exhibit  properties  of  which  the  constituents  gave  no  intimation;  nnd  when 
ingredients  that  are  mild  and  harmless  do,  as  soon  as  they  are  combined  in  certain  proportions,  produce 
substances  that  are  acrid  and  destructive.  To  this  it  is  replied,  that  the  new  properties  or  activities, 
though  unlike  those  of  the  constituent  elements,  in  certain  respects  are  like  them  all,  in  so  far  as  that 
they  are  still  chemical  properties.  They  do  not  belong  to  an  ei'lirely  different  sphere,  as  do  the  vital 
powers.  The  properties  cf  the  chemical  substance  are  not  only  chemical,  but  they  are  permanent 
and  fixed.  Those  of  the  vital  organism  are  not  only  peculiar  in  their  nature,  but  capable  of  variations 
and  progress.  The  rudiment  of  life  in  the  animal  or  vegetable,  on  the  other  hand,  is  not  fixed,  but  is 
capable  of  change  and  development ;  it  is  even  potential  of  the  whole  organism.  The  living  cell  ie 


§25.  THE   BELATIONS    OF   THE   SOUL  TO   MATTEB.  35 

not  only  organized,  but  organific,  as  it  is  capable  of  growth  and  development  into  new  organs,  with 
peculiar  and  as  yet  unknown  and  unused  functions. 

Moreover  it  can  be  demonstrated  that  animal  cells  which  have  precisely  the  same  chemical  compo- 
sition, and  are  precisely  similar  in  every  other  property,  are  developed  into  animals  of  entirely  different 
species.  This  is  true  riot  only  of  the  cells  of  different  species  of  certain  infusoria,  but  of  the  cells  of  larger 
animals  belonging  to  the  same  genus,  which  exhibit,  when  developed,  striking  diversities  of  size,  form, 
&c.  One  cell  or  germ  of  given  chemical  constituents,  say  of  a  mouse,  is  not  only  organific  of  a  product 
of  a  given  form,  size,  functions,  &c.,  but  another  cell  of  the  same  constituents  produces  another  product, 
differing  in  form,  size,  and  functions,  say  an  elephant. 

Those  who  do  not  accept  the  argument  ab  ignorantia  which  we  have  described,  or 
who  will  not  rest  their  cause  upon  the  general  probabilities  to  which  we  have  re- 
conditions8.1'6  ferred,  seek  to  find  a  decisive  reason  for  the  diverse  character  of  the  inorganic  and 

organic  phenomena  in  the  peculiar  conditions  to  which  the  agencies  are  subjected, 
which  they  contend  are  common  to  both.  Some  explain  the  development  of  the 
organic  from  the  inorganic  by  heat.  Some  resort  to  light  as  the  sufficient  cause  for  the  evolution  of  mat- 
ter into  life.  But  heat  and  light,  though  both  are  essential  to  growth  and  life,  cannot  be  shown  to  be 
the  originators  of  the  capacity  for  either  in  a  substance  that  under  every  variety  of  either  and  of  both, 
may  remain  inorganic  and  dead.  Others  contend  that  at  certain  periods  of  existence,  the  inorganic  mate- 
rials might  have  been  more  sensitive  to  these  agencies,  and  so  the  agencies  themselves  have  become 
almost  creative.  But  these  are  mere  conjectures  of  what  is  possible. 

Others  resort  to  organization  itself,  as  furnishing  the  required  conditions  under  which 
these  chemical  and  mechanical  agencies  manifest  vital  effects.  Thus  Carpenter  says  : 
"  We  find  notDing)  tnen> in  our  fundamental  idea  of  matter  to  oppose  the  doctrine  that 
vital  properties  are  developed  in  it  by  the  very  act  of  organization.1"  "  For  no  one  can 
assert  that  there  does  not  exist  in  every  uncombined  particle  of  matter  which  is  capa- 
ble of  being  assimilated,  the  ability  to  exhibit  vital  actions  when  placed  in  the  requisite  conditions  ;  in 
other  words,  when  made  a  part  of  a  living  system  by  the  process  of  organization."  "The  process  of 
organization"  and  "the  capacity  of  being  assimilated"  are  phrases  which  include  the  very  thing  to 
be  accounted  for  and  defined.  What  is  organization,  is  the  very  question  which  needs  to  be  answered. 
Is  it  or  is  it  not  a  peculiar  combination  of  material  particles  which  enables  their  mechan:cal  and 
chemical  properties  to  evolve  and  exhibit  vital  phenomena?  The  capacity  of  matter  to  be  assimilated, 
•what  is  that?  To  say  that  the  reason  why  material  particles,  when  united,  pass  into  a  substance  which 
is  alive,  is  owing  to  the  fact  that  a  living  being  assimilates  them,  and  they  are  capable  of  being  un'ted 
to  its  substance,  is  to  overlook  the  question  to  be  answered,  which  is,  what  is  the  force  which  organizes? 
Herbert  Spencer,  in  a  similar  way,  takes  refuge  in  the  phrase  physiological  units,  alter  being  forced  to 
reject  chemical  and  morphological  units  as  inadequate.  (Princ.  of  Biology,  §  66.) 

Nor  does  it  relieve  the  difficulty  to  say,  with  Carpenter  and  Lotze,  that  it  is  compe- 
r      ,.          tent  for  the  Creator  only  to  organize  material  particles  into  a  living  being.    The 
Power.  question  still  remains,  What  is  it  to  create  or  originate  a  living  being  ?  What  is  a  liv- 

ing being  when  it  is  created  ?  What  does  the  Creator  perform,  and  what  is  the  product 
of  his  act?    Does  he  simply  develop  capacities  which  were  latent  in  mechanical  and 
chemical  attributes,  or  does  he  give  to  some  of  these  particles  a  new  force  which  is  capable  of  organizing 
matter  into  life,  and  of  propagating  life  ?    Is  life  the  cause  or  is  it  the  effect  of  the  organization  of  matter  ? 
The  special  conditions  sought  for  are  supplied  by  some  in  the  brain  or  nerve  power.    But  brain  or 
nerve  power,  if  it  means  any  thing  more  than  the  sum  total  of  the  particles  of  which  the  brain  and  nerves 
consist,  must  mean  the  same  as  organized  particles  or  organizations.    With  this  interpretation  of  the 
phrases,  the  original  difficulty  returns  with  all  its  force. 

The  objection  is  sometimes  urged,  that  if  life  means  any  thing  more  than  material  par 
tides  specially  coordinated  and  combined,  there  could  be  no  possibility  of  the  decay 
mits  of  deeply          or  extinction  of  life-    If  life  modifies  and  controls  other  agencies,  these  agencies  can- 
not be  injurious  or  destructive  to  life— which  is  contrary  to  the  facts  of  experience.    To 
this  it  is  sufficient  to  reply  that  the  doctrine  of  vital  force  does  not  necessarily  involve 
Absolute  and  complete  control  over  these  agencies.    The  vital  agency  may,  by  its  very  nature,  be  capa- 
ble of  assimilating  only  certain  particles  into  the  living  substance.    The  simple  repetition  of  the  act  of 
assimilation  may  involve  the  weakening  of  the  assimilating  force.    The  introduction  of  uncongenial  ma- 
terial, in  quality  or  quantity,  may  both  deteriorate  the  various  tissues  which  are  its  product  and  hasten 
its  dissolution     Organized  matter  may  be  but  an  equilibrium  of  balanced  forces,  the  chemical  and  me- 
ehanical  on  the  one  side,  and  the  vital  on  the  other.    When  the  balance  is  disturbed,  disease  may  be  th« 
ionsequence;  when  it  is  entirely  and  irrecoverably  lost,  the  dissolution  of  the  organism  may  follow. 

Another  objection  may  be  urged  against  the  doctrine  of  a.  vital  force — that  it  is,  by  it* 

No       objection      very  definition,  an  individual  agency,  and  that  science  can  know  nothing  of  such 

that  it  is  indi-      forces  or  their  laws.    Science,  it  will  be  alleged,  knows  only  general  agencies  with 

their  universal  laws.    To  this  it  might  be  replied,  so  much  the  worse  for  science,  if  its 

conceptions  of  being  are  so  one-sided  and  narrow,  and  its  assumptions  are  so  hastj 


36  INTRODUCTION.  §  25 

and  positive.  If  science  does  noi  recognize  the  individual,  it  must  overlook  the  best  result  of  science, 
which  is  to  explain  individual  e  rents  by  general  laws.  It  must  deny  purpose  and  design  in  nature, 
•which  must  be  assumed  to  impart  the  highest  interest  to  every  combination  of  universal  agencies.  It 
would  seem  that  the  general  and  the  individual  are  correlative  conceptions,  and  the  denial  of  the  one  all 
a  fact  must  involve  the  impossibility  of  the  other  as  a  thought.  Though  it  may  be  true  that,  science  hae 
the  most  direct  concern  with  the  general,  yet  it  is  also  true  that  it  impliedly  assumes  the  individual  at 
giving  meaning  to  the  general.  In  the  recognition,  on  proper  proof,  of  a  vital  force,  as  an  individual 
agency  with  common  characteristics,  she  brings  these  two  poles  of  knowledge  together,  or  very  near  to 
each  other,  as  it  may  be  expected  she  would  in  one  of  the  higher  forms  of  being.  Should  these  two  rela- 
tions lead  her  to  a  completed  circle  in  the  conception  and  laws  of  a  form  of  being  still  higher,  it  would  ba 
none  the  worse  for  science,  in  respect  to  the  surety  of  her  foundations,  or  her  claims  to  confidence  aiK 
respect. 

2.    Relations  of  the  Saul  to  Life. 

The  facts  and  considerations  adduced  establish  the  existence  of  a  vital  agent  or  force.    It  has  already 
been  asserted,  and  will  hereafter  be  proved,  that  there  is  a  soul  or  subject  of  those  higher  activities  whicL 
are  known  to  consciousness,  viz.  the  rational,  the  emotional,  and  voluntary.    Assuming  this  to  be  true,  tht 
second  of  our  two  questions  naturally  arises  at  once,  what  is  the  relation  of  the  one  of  these  to  the  other  > 
What  is  the  relation  of  the  soul  to  life?    Are  there  in  man  two  distinct  agents  or  principles,  viz.,  the  vita: 
and  the  psychical,  or  do  the  two  coincide  in  one,  the  separate  terms  being  abstractions,  hypostases  for  the  di- 
verse functions  that  are  appropriated  in  language  to  each  ?    This  question  has,  like  the 
question  respecting  the  principle  of  life,  been  variously  answered.    The  doctrines  of  the 
ancients,  in  respect  to  the  community  and  separableness  of  the  two,  have  already  been 
referred  to.    In  modern  times,  those  who  have  rejected  the  materialistic  tbeoiy  have 
almost  universally  contended  that  the  subject  of  conscious  activity  is  an  agent  or 
essence  distinct  from  the  principle  of  life.    The  agent  or  force  which  thinks,  feels,  and  wills,  has  been  sup- 
posed to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  processes  which  originate  and  direct  the  corporeal  functions.    The 
connection  between  the  two  agents  or  essences  has  usually  been  regarded  as  that  of  mere  coexistence  or 
intimate  relationship.    These  views  were  the  natural  result  of  the  dualistic  theory  of  Descartes,  in  assert- 
ing  for  extension  and  thought, — set  forth  by  him  as  the  fundamental  or  essential  attributes  of  matter 
and  spirit, — entire  ^relationship  to  one  another.    Since  his  time,  in  all  the  varieties  of  psychological  and 
physiological  theories,  those  who  have  held  the  soul  to  be  spiritual  and  immortal  have  almost  uniformly 
and  unanimously  held  that  the  agent  of  knowledge  and  feeling  is  distinct  in  essence  from  the  principle 
of  life.    One  exception  deserves  to  be  named,  in  the  school  of  G.  E.  Stahl,  (1660-1 734,)  the  eminent  physi- 
cian and  chemist.    Stahl  maintained  that  the  soul  was  active  in  the  formation  and  functional  processes 
of  the  body,  as  well  as  in  the  exercise  of  the  conscious  activities;  but  he  connected  with  this  theory  cer- 
tain extreme  doctrines  which  seemed  to  be  inconsistent  with  its  spirituality  and  independence  of  matter, 
as  well  as  with  the  plainest  facts  of  experience. 

The  progress  of  physiology  in  recent  times,  as  well  as  the  more  careful  study  of  the  conditions  of 
certain  of  the  psychical  phenomena,  have  seemed  to  favor  a  theory  intermediate  between  those  of  Des- 
cartes and  Stahl,  a  theory  teaching  the  identity  of  the  vital  and  spiritual  forces.  It  maybe  stated  thus  : 
The  force  or  agent  which  at  first  originates  the  bodily  organism,  and  actuates  its  functions,  at  last  man- 
ifcsts  itself,  as  the  soul,  in  higher  forms  of  activity,  viz.,  in  knowledge,  feeling,  and  will.  In  othftr 
words,  the  principle  of  life  and  of  psychical  activity  is  one. 

In  support  of  this  opinion  the  following  facts  are  adduced  :  The  vital  phenomena  pro 
Vital  phenome-  cede  the  psychical  in  the  order  of  time.  But,  in  connection  with  the  first  appearance 
na  precede  the  of  the  latter,  there  are  no  indications  to  consciousness  or  observation  of  the  beginning 
psychical.  of  a  new  being  Or  agent.  The  first  activities  of  the  soul  are  not  only  manifested  much 

later  than  the  functions  of  life,  but  they  are  at  first  rudimental  and  very  partially 
developed.  They  are  also  blended  with  the  functions  of  life,  both  in  conscious  experience,  so  far  as  we 
can  recall  them,  and  to  the  observation  of  the  look«r-on,  so  far  as  he  can  penetrate  beneath  the  outward 
appearance.  "Were  the  soul  an  essence  wholly  distinct  from  the  vital  agent,  we  should  natural'  T  expect 
that  the  beginning  of  its  existence  would  be  made  known  by  decisive  evidence.  But  thcrt,  ^s  no  evidence 
of  the  sort.  We  curiously  ank,  When  does  it  begin  to  be  ?  We  cannot  easily  believe  that,  if  its  existence 
logins  with  life,  it  should  remain  dormant  so  long,  and  yet  be  another  being. 

When  life  and  eoul  are  fully  developed,  the  general  intensity  or  energy  of  the  powers 
The  energy  of  °^  eacn  vary  with  one  another.  As  the  tone  of  the  bodily  life  so  is  the  general 
the  two  propor-  energy  of  the  soul's  capacities,  its  capacity  for  keenness  of  perception,  clearness  and 
tt°na-'  range  of  memory,  power  of  reasoning,  energy  of  feeling,  strength  of  will.  When 

this  tone  of  life  is  lowered,  as  in  sleep,  faintness  and  disease,  there  is  a  general  ten. 
dency  to  depression  of  the  psychical  activities.  This  is  the  general  rule  or  fact,  to  wtich  there  ar 
apparent  exceptions  to  which  we  shall  next  refer.  This  gonerel  rule  would  indicate  a  corumon  essence, 
provided  this  can  bo  reconciled  with  other  'acts. 


§25.  THE   RELATIONS    OF    THE   SOUL  TO   MATTER.  33 

This  community  of  essence  is  still  further  indicated  and  attested  by  phenomena  which 

look  at  first  iu  the  opposite  direction.    We  refer  to  those  facts  which  indicate  that 

certain  special  activities  of  life  are  incompatible  with  certain  special  activities  oi 

the  soul,  or  at  least  that  the  greatest  energy  of  the  one  must  be  at  the  expense 

of  the  greatest  energy  of  the  other.      Some  of  those  functions  which  pertain  to 

the    so-called   vegetative   or   nutritive    soul,  as  of  growth,  digestion,  sleep,    draw  upon  the  higher 

nature.      They  seem  to  be  so  exhaustive  and  absorbing  of  a  certain  common  stock  of  energy,  as  to 

leave  little  force  for  intellectual  or  emotional  activity.    Hence  in  the  early  period  of  life,  when  the  growth 

and  maturing  of  the  bodily  substance  and  organs  are  going  on,  the  intellect  is  physically  incapable  of  the 

strain  and  effort  attendant  upon  certain  functions.    In  adult  years  the  states  of  body  most  unsuitable 

for  such  activities,  are  the  states  which  are  devoted  to  rest,  recuperation  and  nourishment.    In  disease 

and  old  age  not  only  is  the  general  tone  of  both  body  and  mind  lowered,  but  the  little  energy  that  can 

be  used  by  either  seems  to  be  withdrawn  from  the  psychical  functions  and  husbanded  by  nature  to  defend 

arid  sustain  the  nutritive  activities.    These  phenomena  are  best  explained  by  oneness  of  essence. 

Again  :  many  of  the  conscious  activities  of  the  soul  are  dependent  upon  certain  con- 

The    Conscious      ditions  and  excitements  which  involve  relations  and  activities  of  which  it  is  wholly 

unconscious.    Some  of  these  are  material  and  involve  relations  of  the  soul  to  orgun- 

ties.  ized,  i.  e.,  living,  matter.  These  are  best  explained  on  the  supposition  that  the  vital  and 

psychical  essence  id  one.     Others  are  immaterial,  but  the  existence  of  these  proves 

beyond  question  that  the  activities  of  the  soul  mre  not  limited  to  what  are  usually  recognized  as  its  con- 

Bcious  phenomena. 

Examples  of  these  activities  and  processes  are  the  following:  The  act  of  sense-perception  requires 
as  its  condition  a  material  object,  a  sensorium  or  nervous  apparatus,  the  excitement  of, the  sensorium, 
usually  through  the  medium  of  the  sense-organ,  and  the  transmission  of  this  excitement  by  a  continu- 
ous and  uninterrupted  nervous  organism.  All  these  are  processes  of  the  unconscious  in  man,  whatever 
this  may  be,  and  pertaining  in  part,  it  may  be,  to  the  living  body,  and  dependent  on  the  vital  force  alone,  if 
there  be  such  a  distinct  agent,  in  part  to  that  in  the  nature  of  the  soul  which  qualifies  it  to  be  excited 
by  the  aroused  seneorium.  Now  whether  or  not  the  life  and  the  soul  are  one,  this  certainly  must  be 
received  as  unquestioned,  that  in  addition  to  the  soul's  capacities  for  conscious  activities,  it  is  capable 
also  of  certain  unconscious  processes.  The  consideration  of  this  fact  removes  the  chief  objection  against 
its  identity  with  the  principle  of  life,  inasmuch  as  it  demonstrates  that  its  nature  or  essence  is  complex, 
and  extends  beyond  the  sphere  of  its  conscious  activities.  This  complexuess  may  reach  so  widely  as  tc 
include  capacities  for  those  processes  which  we  call  vital. 

But  still  further  it  is  to  be  observed  that  some  of  these  processes  and  relations  respect 
material  existences,  and  some  of  these  consciously  imply  relations  of  extension 

matterUl '  and  place<    We  do  not  insist  on  the  Point  that  the  eoul  must  in  8ome  wav  or  other 

cognize  material  and  extended  objects,  but  upon  the  truth  that  the  sensational  ele- 
ment in  sense-perception  involves  an  apprehension  of  some  connection  of  the  soul  with 
the  living,  viz.  the  extended,  organism.  This  fact,  indeed,  is  overlooked  in  the  theories  of  some  psychol- 
ogists and  denied  in  those  of  others,  but  it  cannot  we  think  be  set  aside  (§117).  If,  however,  this  rela- 
tion of  the  soul  to  extension  is  not  pressed,  because  it  is  still  in  dispute,  it  can  riot  be  denied  that  the 
eoul  is  so  related  to  extended  matter  as  to  be  capable  of  exciting  and  directing  the  activities  of  its  owu 
body.  The  conscious  perception  of  matter  being  laid  out  of  view,  as  well  as  the  conscious  location  of 
the  soul'fl  sensations,  the  relation  of  the  soul  to  matter  remains  unquestioned.  The  soul  holds  at  least 
those  relations  to  extension  and  matter  which  are  implied  in  the  unconscious  processes  or  acts  which 
fulfil  its  conscious  determinations.  This  fact  is  fitted  to  set  aside  those  objections  against  the  identity  of 
the  vital  and  psychical  force  which  are  founded  on  the  alleged  impossibility  that  the  soul  should  hold 
any  relations  whatever  to  extension.  Whatever  view  be  taken  of  the  soul's  spirituality,  the  fact  cannot 
be  overlooked  that  it  is  capable  of  being  affected  by  and  of  acting  upon  extended  matter. 

Again:  the  body  is  in  general  and  particular  adapted  to  the  habits  and  uses  of  the 
species  and  of  the  individual  soul  with  which  it  is  connected.  This  adaptation  is  so 
manifold  and  complete  as  to  indicate  that  the  agent  that  forms  and  moulds  these 
peculiarities  is  the  same  that  uses  and  applies  them.  The  human  body  is  unlike 
the  body  of  every  other  species  of  animals,  not  merely  in  its  external  features  of  form 
and  function,  but  also  in  its  special  capacities  to  be  the  servant  of  the  human  soul.  The  hand  is  njt 
merely  a  more  dexterous  and  finely  moulded  instrument  than  the  forefoot  of  the  quadruped  and  the 
paw  of  the  monkey,  but  is  specially  fitted  to  be  used  by  the  inventive  and  skilful  mind.  Every  other  part 
of  the  human  body  is  also  especially  harmonious  to  and  congruous  with  the  human  soul,  as  intellect, 
sensibility  and  will,  Not  only  is  there  a  general  harmony  between  the  body  arid  soul  of  the  species 
as  a  whole,  but  there  is  in  individuals  a  special  harmony  between  the  body  and  soul.  The  eye  that  is 
capable  of  discerning  the  nicest  shades  of  color,  or  tracing  graceful  outlines  of  form,  is  usually  conjoined 
with  a  special  delight  in  color  and  form,  as  well  as  with  a  capacity  of  hand  to  reproduce  what  delights 
both  soul  and  eye.  The  ear  that  is  physically  refined  in  its  discrimination  of  sounds  and  musical  to.»ea, 
js  usually  attended  by  a  special  sensibility  of  the  soul  to  the  delights  of  elocution  and  music,  and  wi't 


38  INTRODUCTION.  §  25 

the  physical  and  psychical  capacity  to  produce  the  sounds  which  give  it  such  plewrare.  Quickness  cf  in 
tellect  is  attended  by  organs  that  are  mobile  and  acute  and  a  temperament  that  is  harmonious  with  both 
intellect  and  organism.  It  is  possible  to  account  for  these  fine  adjustments  of  nature  by  a  general  laTS  ol 
preestablished  harmony  between  the  corporeal  and  the  psychical,  or  by  a  special  and  individual  direction 
of  Provid  Mice  in  every  instance,  but  they  are  more  rationally  explained  by  supposing  the  vital  agent  that 
forms  the  body  and  the  psychical  agent  that  uses  it  to  be  one  and  the  same,  and  thus  affirming  an  original 
harmony  between  the  bodily  and  the  spiritual  endowments  and  capacities  of  this  identical  agent. 

This  conclusion  is  rendered  more  probable  by  the  well-known  fact  that  after  lh< 
The  body  is  body  is  formed  and  developed,  and  has  become  the  dwelling-place  of  the  soul,  it  it 
moulded  by  the  changed  in  many  respects,  and  as  it  were,  formed  anew  by  the  influence  of  the  con 
8oul>  scious  activities.  The  thoughts  which  are  entertained,  the  feelings  which  are  cher- 

ished, and  the  purposes  which  are  enacted,  mould  and  form  the  body  within  and 
without  so  as  to  be  a  readier  instrument  and  a  more  fit  manifestation  of  the  spiritual  activities  and 
states.  The  fact  is  unquestionable.  By  what  intermediate  psycho-physical  processes  is  this  result 
effected?  If  there  be  a  vital  principle,  it  must  be  accomplished  by  its  agency.  In  the  gradual,  but 
steady  and  certain  progress  made  by  the  soul  in  impressing  itself  upon  the  body,  it  is  not  the  matter  ol 
the  body,  considered  as  matter,  that  the  soul  moulds  and  fixes  for  its  uses  by  the  slow  but  certain  influ- 
ences of  years,  or  a  lifetime.  It  is  only  the  living,  organized  body  that  is  sufficiently  plastic  to  respond 
to  these  forming  influences.  But  it  can  be  rendered  plastic  only  by  the  power  of  the  vital  force.  If  this 
force  be  not  one  and  the  same  with  the  psychical  agent,  the  two  must  be  adapted  to  each  other  by  an 
arrangement  more  wonderful,  and  must  work  with  one  another  with  a  harmony  more  extraordinary 
than  the  union  of  the  two  in  the  same  essence  could  possibly  involve. 

The  sudden  influence  of  vivid  conceptions,  or  of  excited  feelings  upon  the  muscular  activities,  is  an 
other  example  of  the  power  of  the  soul  over  the  body.  The  imagination  of  a  scene  of  cruelty  and  suffering 
makes  the  flesh  creep,  puts  the  limbs  into  attitudes  of  defence  and  aversion,  and  awakens  the  features  U- 
expressions  of  disgust  or  horror.  Terror  induces  fainting,  convulsions,  and  death.  All  these  phenom 
em*  are  entirely  consistent  with  the  theory  which  makes  the  vital  and  the  psychical  forces  to  be  one. 

The  capacity  of  the  body  in  look,  gesture,  and  speech,  to  express  the  thoughts  an* 
feelings  of  the  soul,  and  the  capacity  of  the  soul  to  interpret  these  bodily  move- 
ments  an(^  effects  as  language,  and  to  look  through  them  into  the  soul  within,  by  an 
impulse  and  an  art  which  could  never  be  either  taught  or  learned  if  nature  itself  did 
not  prepare  the  way— all  these  phenomena  which  elevate  the  body  itself  almost  to  a 
spiritual  essence,  are  more  easy  of  explanation,  if  we  suppose  that  with  the  capacity  for  the  psychical 
activities  which  are  peculiar  to  every  individual,  there  are  also  connected  in  oneness  of  essence  those 
vital  powers  which  act  in  such  fine  and  subtle  harmony  with  them. 

To  the  identity  of  the  vital  and  psychical  agents,  the  following  objections  are  urged. 
Objections.  The  Psychical  and  vital  activities,  and  the  agents  of  each,  have  no  possible  relations  to 
two  cannot  be  one  another,  and  their  force  cannot  be  united  in  the  same  being.  The  alleged  in- 
related,  compatibility  between  the  two  was  stated  in  its  extremest  form  by  Descartes : 
'Thought  is  the  essence  of  spirit — extension  is  the  essence  of  matter ;  and  these  have 
no  relations  to  one  another.  The  one  is  known  by  consciousness  ;  the  other  by  perception.'  These 
definitions,  which  were  at  first  esteemed  so  satisfactory,  because  they  emphasized  important  distinc- 
tions, were  found  to  be  imperfect  and  one-sided  by  the  absurdity  of  the  logical  extremes  to  which  they 
were  carried.  If  thought  is  the  essence  of  spirit,  and  extension  the  essence  of  matter,  then,  it  waa 
inferred,  il  >  impossible  for  matter  to  impress  spirit  so  as  to  be  known  by  it ;  and  it  is  equally  impos- 
eible  for  bpirit  to  act  upon  matter  so  as  to  impel  and  direct  it,  and  yet  both  of  these  are  incontestable 
facts.  To  overcome  this  difficulty,  several  theories  were  devised  by  the  disciples  -and  successors  <*1 
Descartes,  each  of  which  was  in  its  turn  rejected  as  being  as  forced  and  extreme  as  the  origin^ 
definition  which  made  it  necessary.  '  Body  and  spirit  have  no  real  influence  or  activity  upon  or-« 
another,  said  one  theory — the  phenomena  or  changes  of  the  one  are  merely  occasions  of  corresponder-4 
changes  in  the  other.'  This  was  the  theory  of  occasional  causes,  or  occasionalism,  as  held  by  Gevlincr. 
'  These  phenomena  are  arranged  beforehand  to  take  place  in  a  perpetual  parallelism  or  harmony,  each 
series  of  which  runs  forward  in  a  separate  line  of  events  that  matches  with  or  corresponds  to  the  other, 
without  any  causal  connection.'  This  was  the  theory  of  pre-established  harmony,  maintained  by  Leibnitz, 
'  Matter  and  spirit  have  no  separate  existence  ;  there  is  only  one  substance  in  the  universe,  of  which 
thought  and  extension  are  the  corresponding  attributes  or  phenomena,  each  correspondent  to  each.1  This 
was  the  theory  of  Spinoza.  The  influence  of  these  definitions  has  been  felt  to  the  present  time  in  the 
Assertion  of  what  are  esteemed  the  essential  constituents  of  matter  and  spirit,  in  many  psychological 
theories  and  metaphysical  discussions. 

But  whatever  may  be  assumed  or  laid  down  by  philosophers  as  essential  to  the  con- 
ceptions of  matter  and  spirit,  the  fact  remains  unquestioned  that  the  two  are  capuole 
But  1  hey  are  re-  Qf  mutua]iy  affecting  one  another.  The  extended  and  the  non-extended  show  that  they 
are  capable  of  holding  mutual  relations.  Matter,  though  extended,  does  actually  affect 
spirit,  though  it  is  non-extended.  All  theore'ieal  inferences  founded  upon  th« 


g  25  THE  RELATIONS  OF  THE  SOUL  TO  MATTER.  3i 

d  priori  assumption  that  unextended  spirit  and  extended  matter  can  have  no  relation  one  to  another,  arc 
set  aside  by  thesu  obvious  facts,  attested  by  observation  and  experience.  The  one  does  affect  the  otheij 
and  every  objection  against  the  essential  unity  of  life  and  spirit  derived  from  their  irrelationship  ii 
effectually  disposed  of  by  this  incontestable  fact. 

It  is  still  further  to  be  observed  that  the  matter  which  affects  the  spirit,  and  which  is  in  turn  affected 
by  it,  is  not  matter  which  is  inorganic  or  dead,  but  always  that  which  is  organized  and  living.  It  is  th« 
matter  that  is  ensouled,  i.  e.,  formed  and  animated  by  the  vital  principle,  of  which  the  spirit  feels  the 
presence  in  its  sensibilities,  and  which  it  can  move  in  accordance  with  its  will.  If  the  principle  of  vital 
force  and  spiritual  activity  be  one  and  the  same,  then  we  can  easily  see  how  this  agent  should  first 
prepare  matter  for  its  higher  uses,  by  giving  it  the  endowments  of  life.  This  involves  no  subjection  ol 
•pirit  to  matter,  but  rather  the  subjection  of  matter  to  spirit,  if  indeed  the  latter  can  take  the  former  and 
by  lower  and  unconscious  activities  can  mould  it  for  a  dwelling-place  and  instrument  for  its  service  and 
uses,  before  it  enters  into  the  possession  and  mastery  of  it  by  sensibility  and  intelligence. 

It  is  objected  again,  that  the  view  which  is  urged  would  bring  the  soul  of  man  into 
Animals  and  to°  near  an  affinity  witn  tne  so-called  souls  of  animals  and  of  plants.  If  the  spirit  of 
Plants  must  man  gives  life  to  his  body,  then,  it  is  urged,  it  is  possible  that  that  which  gives  life  to 
have  souls.  ^e  pjant  and  the  animal  may  be  endowed  with  the  attributes  of  intelligence  and 

personality.  This  does  not  follow  as  a  necessary  inference,  by  any  means.  The  fact 
that  the  soul  of  the  plant  has  certain  capacities  and  performs  certain  functions  which  we  call  vegetable 
and  living,  does  not  carry  the  inference  that  it  might  also  perform  the  higher  functions  which  pertain  to 
the  animal.  No  more  docs  it  follow  that  the  so-called  soul  of  either  should  in  their  nature  be  capable  ol 
performing  the  still  higher  functions  which  are  peculiar  to  tne  spirit  of  man.  What  is  asserted  is  simply 
that  the  spirit  of  man,  in  addition  to  its  higher  endowments,  may  also  possess  the  lower  powers,  which 
vitalize  dead  matter  into  a  human  body.  Because  there  are  other  agents  in  the  universe  which  have  the 
capacity  to  form  and  animate  animal  bodies,  each  in  its  kind  endowed  with  its  appropriate  capacities 
and  sensibilities,  and  these  agents  are  like  the  human  soul  in  its  lower  functions,  it  does  not  in  the  least 
follow  that  these  lower  souls  can  ever  become  human  spirits,  or  can  exercise  human  intelligence  or  attain 
to  human  personality. 

It,  Jieain,  it  be  urged  that  the  soul  of  the  plant  can  be  divided  by  the  knife  or  separated  by  buds  or 
germs,  these  facts  pertain  only  to  the  vital  functions  of  this  kind  of  living  beings.  They  do  not  degrade 
the  human  soul  to  a  likeness  with  themselves  in  any  of  those  particulars  in  which  it  is  mest  diverse  from 
them.  Its  higher  endowments  are  not  lowered  in  dignity  because  there  is  claimed  for  it  the  additional 
function  of  forming  for  itself  a  material  structure  by  a  vital  force  which  is  like  that  which  the  plant  or 
the  animal  possesses.  The  plant  and  the  animal  on  the  other  hand  are  not  exalted  to  a  higher  position 
or  a  more  exalted  destiny,  of  intelligence,  personality,  or  immortal  exigence  because  they  are  like  the 
human  soul  in  the  single  particular  of  ministering  life  to  a  material  organism. 

It  might  be  objected,  again,  that  this  view  is  incompatible  with  the  doctrine  of  the 
Inconsistent  natural  and  necessary  immortality  of  the  soul.  The  immortality  of  the  soul  has 

with  the  soul's  ever  since  the  time  of  Plato,  been  often,  not  to  say  generally,  taught  as  a  necessary 
immortality.  consequence  of  its  ethereal  essence,  which,  in  its  turn,  involved  an  essential  supe- 

riority to  and  non-conformity  with  gross  matter.  Plato  taught  the  preexistence  of  the 
spirit,  and  regarded  ita  connection  with  matter  as  an  imprisonment  of  its  energies  and  a  soiling  of  its 
purity,  and  the  remnants  of  these  doctrines  have  survived  till  the  present  time,  and  have  been  supposed 
in  a  certain  sense  to  be  sanctioned  by,  or  at  least  to  be  more  consistent  with  the  Christian  doctrine  of 
immortality.  Whatever  is  important  in  the  Platonic  or  the  Christian  view  of  the  spirituality  and  immor- 
tality of  the  human  spirit  is  not  at  all  diminished  by  the  doctrine  of  its  unity  with  the  vital  force.  That 
the  soul  should  begin  its  existence  by  vitalizing  dead  matter  into  a  sentient  organism  is,  as  has  already 
been  intimated,  a  token  of  its  power  over  matter.  If  this  involves  a  transient  subjection  to  material  lawa 
and  material  limitations,  this  maybe  necessary  for  its  education  and  moral  discipline.  That  the  lower 
powers  should  be  developed  first  in  the  order  of  time,  before  the  higher  capacities  are  matured,  does  not 
detract  from  the  essential  superiority  of  the  latter  when  they  are  in  fact  unfolded,  nor  from  their  im- 
mortal existence  and  continued  activity.  That  the  soul  begins  to  exist  as  a  vital  force,  does  not  require 
that  it  should  always  exist  as  such  a  force,  or  in  connection  with  a  material  body.  Should  it  require 
another  such  body  or  medium  of  activity,  it  may  have  the  power  to  create  it  for  itself  as  it  has  formed 
t.he  one  which  it  first  inhabited,  or  it  may  already  have  formed  it  in  the  germ,  and  hold  it  ready  for 
occupation  and  use  as  soon  as  it  sloughs  off  the  one  which  connects  it  with  the  earth.  These  are  pos- 
sibilities, it  is  true,  but  they  are  sanctioned  by  sufficient  evidence  to  set  aside  the  objection  which  wo 
are  considering  They  permit  the  only  theory  of  the  soul's  continued  existence  in  another  state  which  ia  . 
consistent  with  the  facts  of  our  present  being.  Whatever  may  be  our  speculations  in  respect  to  a  p re- 
existent  eternity  for  the  soul,  the  evidence  of  observation  and  of  facts  is  decisive  that  it  begins  its  exist* 
ence  as  a  vital  agency,  and  emerges  by  a  gradual  waking  into  the  conscious  activities  of  its  higher  nature 
These  facts  it  is  the  duty  of  the  philosopher  to  adjust  to  the  conception  which  he  may  form  of  its  more 
exalted  nature  an.1  its  immortal  destiny.  He  may  not  by  mere  speculation  set  aside  the  plain  and 
'"controvertible  evidence  of  these  indisputable  facts  or  the  suggestions  which  they  involve. 


10  INTRODUCTION.  §  26. 

Last  of  all  it  may  be  objected  that  consciousness  testifies  to  .i  direct  incompatibility 
Consciousness  between  matter  and  spirit,  which  is  decisive  against  the  theory  in  question.  That 
testifies  to  the  consciousness  testifies  that  the  matter  which  we  perceive  is  not  the  spirit  which  per- 
opposite.  ceives  it,  and  is,  in  its  distinguishing  attributes,  totally  unlike  it,  we  have  already  con- 

tended  ;  but  this  testimony  does  not  authorize  the  conclusion  which  is  derived  that 
spirit  cannot  vitalize  matter.  On  the  other  hand,  while  consciousness  testifies  to  the  total  unlikeness  of 
matter  and  spirit,  it  is  also  continually  reminded  that  spirit  is  closely  implicated  with  matter  in  all  it» 
activities  and  experiences.  The  human  soul  knows  that  it  is  not  the  body  which  it  inhabits,  directs  ano 
resists  ;  but  it  also  knows  itself  to  be  in  many  respects  subject  to  its  power.  It  suffers  pain  and  pleasure 
through  all  the  extended  organism,  and  depends  upon  its  aid  for  power  to  exercise  its  loftiest  endowments. 
In  every  form  of  sentient  as  distinguished  from  intellectual  and  emotional  activity,  the  soul  is  conscious 
that  it  is  connected  with  the  material  structure  from  which  it  distinguishes  itself.  The  fact  of  this  con- 
nection is  that  which  consciousness  most  constantly  attests.  While,  then,  we  accept  its  testimony  to  the 
essential  antagonism  between  spirit  and  matter,  we  accept  its  testimony,  also,  to  the  intimate  union  of 
the  two.  This  union  we  best  explain  on  the  theory  that  spirit  possesses  the  power  to  shape  matter  into 
ft  living  existence.  Consciousness  does  not  attest  directly  to  this  view.  By  the  nature  of  the  case  it 
were  impossible  that  it  should.  But  it  does  affirm  certain  phenomena  which  are  best  explained  by  he 
theory  that  the  activities  of  which  it  is  directly  the  witness  are  performed  by  the  same  agent  which 
forms  and  vitalizes  the  body,  by  processes  to  which  consciousness  can  have  no  access,  because  they  are 
by  the  nature  of  the  case  withdrawn  from  its  inspection. 

The  result  to  which  these  considerations  lead,  is  only  probable.  We  can  at  best  establish  the  theory 
ft  hypothesis  which  is  more  plausible.  So  far  as  we  have  any  evidence  it  is  founded  on  analogies  that  are 
aarrow  in  their  origin  and  uncertain  in  their  application.  But  for  the  reasons  already  given,  we  incline 
to  the  opinion  that  in  man  the  vital  and  psychical  agent  is  one. 

Compare  Aristotle,  HEPI  *YXH2.— G.  E.  Stahl,  de  Vita.  Halle,  1701.— John  Hunter,  on  the  Animal 
Economy.  London,  1786.— John  Abernethy,  on  Hunter's  View  of  Life.  London,  1814.— J.  C.  Prichard,  on 
the  Vital  Principle.  London,  1829. — W.  Prout,  Bridgewater  Treatise.  London,  1834. — W.  B.  Carpenter, 
Human  Physiology,  also,  Art.  Life,  in  Todd's  Cyclopsedia;  vol.  iii.  London,  1839-184.7. — C.  Darwin,  on  the 
Origin  of  Species,  etc.  New  York,  I860.— J.  H.  Huxley,  Origin  of  Species,  etc.  New  York,  1863.— Her- 
bert Spencer,  Principles  of  Biology ;  2  vols.  New  York,  1867. — Professor  Richard  Owen,  Archetype  and 
Homologies  of  Vertebrate  Skeleton.  Van  Voorst.  London,  1848.  Do.  Comparative  Anatomy :  Invertebrata  ; 
Vertebrala.  Longman.  London,  1855.  Do.  On  the  Nature  of  Limbs.  Do.  Discourse  on  Parthenogenesis ; 
both  Van  Voorst.  London,  1849.— Do.  Palseontology,  2d  ed.  Longman.  London,  1861.— T.  Laycock,  Mind 
and  Brain.  Edinburgh,  1860. — J.  Muller,  Handbuch  der  Physiologie  des  Menschcn;  2  bde.  Coblentz, 
1835-1840.  Do.  translated  by  William  Baly.  London,  1848.— H.  Lotze,  Arts.  Leben  und  LebensJcraft, 
Seele  und  Seelenlehre  in  Wagner,  Hand-Worterbuch  der  Physiologie. — H.  Ulrici,  Gott  und  die  Nalur.  Leip- 
zig, 1862.  Golt  und  der  Mensch.  Leipzig,  1866.— I.  H.  Fichte,  Anthropologie.  Leipzig,  1860.  Do.  Psy- 
chologie.  Leipzig,  1864. — Fr.  Bouillier,  Du  Principe  Vital  et  de  VAme  Pensante,  A.  Lemoine,  L'Ame  et  le 
Corps.  Paris,  1863.  Do.  Stahl  et  VAnimisme.—J.  Tissot,  La  Vie  dans  I'Homme.  Paris,  1861.— E.  Saisset, 
fLccherches  Nouvelles  sur  VAme  et  sur  la  Vie. — Revue  des  Deux  Jfondes,  vol.  xL — H.  Philibert,  Du  Principe 
df.  la  Vie,  suivant  Aristote.  Paris,  1865. 

IIL 

THE   FACULTIES    OF   THE    SOUL. 

VE  assume,  as  has  been  already  stated,  that  the  soul  is  endowed  with  the  capacity  to  know 
its  own  phenomena.  Reserving  for  future  consideration  the  nature,  the  development, 
and  the  authority  of  this  power,  we  proceed  to  apply  it  in  inquiring  what  consciousness 
finds  to  be  true  of  the  soul,  in  its  phenomena,  their  conditions  and  laws.  This  is  the 
question  which  we  are  Continually  to  repeat  during  the  entire  course  of  our  investiga- 
tions. A  well-ordered  arrangement  of  the  answers  to  this  question  would  give  a  system 
of  psychology 

§  26.  The  inquiry  which  comes  first  in  order  is  the  follow 

Question      con-      .  __  .     .,    , 

coming  the  fac-    ing  i  Do  we  nnd  by  consciousness  that  the  soul  is  endowed 

with  separate  faculties  or  powers  ?     This  question  is  prelimi 

nary  to  all  others,  for  it  must  be  answered,  that  we  may  direct  the  ciassi 

Ucation  which  we  shall  adopt,  and  -fix  the  terminology  in  which  to  express 


§27.  THE  FACULTIES  OF  THE  SOUL.  41 

the  results  of  our  investigations.  The  question  has  been  earnestly  dis- 
cussed, and  opposite  opinions  in  regard  to  it  hare  been  zealously  held 
and  defended. 

§  27.  We  answer,  first,  negatively.  We  do  not  find  that  the 
8OU^  ^s  divided  into  separate  parts  or  organs,  of  which  one 
may  be .  active  while  the  others  are  at  rest.  The  plant  and 
the  animal  have  distinct  and  separate  organs,  of  which  each  performs  its 
appropriate  and  peculiar  function,  which  none  of  the  others  can  fulfil.  The 
root,  the  bark,  the  leaf,  the  flower,  in  the  one,  and  the  stomach,  the  heart, 
the  skin,  and  the  eye,  in  the  other,  each  performs  an  office  which  is  peculiar 
to  itself,  and  which  it  shares  with  no  other  organ.  While  one  of  these 
organs  is  active,  the  others  may  be  as  yet  undeveloped  or  in  a  state  of 
comparative  repose.  There  is  no  evidence  of  such  a  division  of  the  soul 
into  organs.  The  whole  soul,  so  far  as  we  are  conscious  of  its  operations, 
acts  in  each  of  its  functions.  The  identical  and  undivided  ego  is  present, 
and  wholly  present,  in  every  one  of  its  conscious  acts  and  states.  We 
can  find  no  part,  we  can  infer  no  part,  which  is  not  called  into  activity 
whenever  the  soul  acts  at  all.  We  can  discover  and  conjecture  no  organs, 
of  which  some  are  at  rest  while  others  are  in  activity. 

This  peculiarity  of  the  soul  has  not  always  been  noticed  as  it  should  be ; 
Faculties  often  certainly  it  has  not  always  been  kept  in  mind.  The  so-called  faculties  have 
misconceived.  often  been  conceived  and  described  as  separable  organs  or  parts  of  the  soul's 

substance,  any  one  of  which  might  act  of  itself — nay,  one  or  another  of 
which  might  be  conceived  as  added  to  or  superinduced  upon  another,  giving  so  much  en- 
larged  and  diverse  capacity.  Sometimes  the  faculties  have  been  represented  as  acting  not  only 
apart  from  one  another,  but  apart  from  the  conscious  soul  itself;  the  soul  being  conceived 
now  as  an  arena  or  show-place  within  which  the  faculties  might  prosecute  their  work  or  play,  the 
soul  being  impassive  and  incognizant ;  or  now  as  a  spectator  of  their  doings,  more  or  less 
indifferent  or  interested.  These  representations  are  all  derived  from  the  analogies  furnished 
by  matter  and  its  actings ;  they  find  no  warrant  in  our  conscious  experience.  The  fact  that 
these  representations  are  often  allowed,  and  that  they  influence  the  reasonings  and  conclu- 
sions of  many  philosophers,  who  in  form  reject  them,  is  urged  with  great  earnestness  by  those 
*vho  reject  the  term  faculty,  and  the  corresponding  conception,  on  the  ground  that  the  doc- 
;rine  and  the  name  conflict  with  the  soul's  unity  and  identity. 

Again,  we  do  not  find  it  true  that  the  soul  can  only  act  with 

riach  faculty  dot:  s  .  m  J 

not  act  at  a  sepu-    one  of  its  so-called  faculties  at  the  same  instant  of  time. 

rate  time.  . 

Some  suppose,  perhaps  inferring  from  a  misconstruction  of 
the  doctrine  of  the  faculties,  that  when  we  know,  feel,  and  decide,  or 
when  we  perceive,  remember,  and  judge,  we  must  perform  each  of  these 
separate  acts  in  a  definite  and  distinctly  separable  instant  of  time.  Con- 
sciousness does  not  allot  to  each  distinguishable  kind  of  activity  a  separate 
interval  or  moment  of  duration,  but  before  its  eye  many  such  distinguish- 
able kinds  of  activity  are  united  in  one  undivided  act.  We  might,  indeed, 
conceive  each  of  these  activities  to  require  a  separate  instant  of  tkne,  but 
wo  do  not  *md  this  to  be  true  in  fact.  Not  only,  then,  is  it  not  true  that  the 


42  INTRODUCTION,  g  28 

soul  is  divided  into  separate  parts  or  organs,  but  it  is  not  true  that  il 
cannot  aot  variously,  or  with  all  its  faculties,  in  the  same  apparently  in 
stantauepus  act. 

8  28.  Thus  far  have  we  distinguished  what  is  not  true  of 

States  of  the  soul       .''"'. 

Hke  and  unlike  the  actings  of  the  soul  and  of  the  faculties  to  which  these 
actings  are  ascribed.  We  ask  next,  What  is  true,  and  how 
far  is  the  conception  and  the  use  of  the  term  faculty  authorized  by  what 
consciousness  discovers  or  attests  ?  We  assume  that  the  identical  ego,  or  I, 
is  not  only  distinguishable  from  its  own  states,  but  that  each  of  these  states 
is  separated  or  individualized  from  every  other,  by  occupying  a  separate 
portion  of  time.  Each  of  these  states  is  known  by  the  soul's  conscious- 
ness to  be  individually  different  from  every  other.  But  though  they  are 
thus  separated  or  severed  from  one  another,  they  are  united  by  another 
relation.  Among  these  separate  acts  there  are  many  which  are  alike  in 
certain  prominent  characteristics  or  elements.  These  are  grouped  together 
as  the  same  in  kind.  They  are  discerned  and  pronounced  to  be  similar, 
and  are  therefore  viewed  and  named  as  the  same.  Others  are,  for  another 
prominent  element,  gathered  and  named  as  another  group.  The  groups 
thus  gathered,  each  under  a  common  likeness,  are  as  clearly  separated 
from  one  another,  as  the  individuals  in  each  are  united  by  the  likeness  of 
their  common  element.  As  we  look  more  closely,  we  find  that  these 
states  are  united  and  distinguished  for  the  following  reasons : 

First,  the  prominent  elements  are  known  to  be  alike  or  unlike 

Elements      like  .  . 

and  unlike  in  in  ihe  immediate  experience  of  the  soul.  The  person  who  is  the 
subject  of  each,  knows  that  what  he  calls  his  acts  of  knowl- 
edge are  alike,  and  also  that  they  differ  from  his  states  of  feeling  and  of 
will,  as  readily  and  as  distinctly  as  he  knows  blue  from  red,  or  green  from 
violet,  or  hard  from  soft,  or  bitter  from  sweet.  He  does  not  discern  them 
by  the  bodily  eye,  nor  have  they  material  qualities,  nor  are  they  dependent 
on  bodily  organization  ;  but  they  are  as  clearly  different,  and,  if  possible, 
they  are  more  perfectly  distinguished  than  any  of  these  objects.  For  if 
the  soul  knows  any  thing,  it  knows  its  own  states — not  only  that  they  are, 
and  that  they  are  its  own,  but  also  what  they  are  in  their  quality.  ' 

If  consciousness  can  pronounce  upon  any  thing,  it  can  pronounce  upon  what  is  like  and 
unlike  in  its  inner  experiences.  These  states  are  not  its  experiences  only — they  are  very 
largely  its  own  products,  the  results  of  that  self-active  and  tireless  energy  by  which  thte  ego 
is  continually  passing  into  new  conditions  of  being,  or  rather  taking  new  forms  or  phases  of 
action.  Many  of  them  are  produced  of  design,  the  soul  distinctly  setting  before  itself  what 
one  of  its  possible  states  it  will  employ  as  the  required  means  or  conditions  to  bring  them  to 
pass.  Unless  the  soul  could  distinguish  the  quality  or  character  of  its  own  states,  it  could  not 
design  to  produce  them,  either  by  direct  or  indirect  agency. 


2.  The  elements  which  are  the  ground  of  the  classification 
of  the  several  states  are  not  only  recognized  as  like  or  un- 
like, but  each  has  a  relation  of  dependence  with  respect  to 


3  28  THE  FACULTIES  OF  THE  SOUL.  4S 

the  others.  Not  only  is  one  state  different  from  another,  as  a  so-called 
state  of  knowledge,  feeling,  or  will,  but  the  element  of  knowledge  is 
known  to  be  the  necessary  condition  of  the  element  of  feeling,,  and  the 
element  of  feeling  the  condition  of  that  of  will.  A  man  does  not  ft  el, 
except  he  knows  or  apprehends  some  object  which  excites  feeling.  He 
always  feels  about  or  with  respect  to  something  cognized. 

An  apparent  exception  to  this  law  is  believed  by  some  to  present  itself  in  the  case  of 
sensible  perception,  in  every  instance  of  which  it  is  contended  that  the  feeling — viz.,  the 
bodily  sensation — is  the  condition  of  the  intellectual  apprehension,  viz.,  the  perception.  In 
all  other  cases,  it  cannot  be  questioned  that  the  mind  only  feels  when,  and  because,  it  appre- 
hends the  object  which  excites  the  feeling.  When  it  would  increase  or  intensify  an  emotion, 
it  applies  the  intellect  to  the  appropriate  object  with  greater  energy  and  a  more  exclusive  con- 
centration. When  it  would  excite  the  feeling  anew,  it  brings  the  object  before  the  attentive 
intellect  a  second  time.  When  it  would  rid  itself  of  an  emotion,  or  prevent  its  return,  it 
occupies  the  attention  with  some  other  objects,  so  as  to  excite  an  emotion  that  shall  exclude 
or  displace  the  first.  So  clearly  \s  this  dependence  recognized,  that  all  the  laws  of  practical 
wisdom  are  founded  upon  it  in  respect  to  deliverance  from  or  security  against  feelings  that 
are  either  uncomfortable  or  wrong.  The  lower  exercise  of  prudence  and  self-control,  as  well 
as  the  higher  discipline  of  virtue  and  self-improvement,  are  both  directed  by  the  knowledge 
of  the  dependence  of  the  element  of  feeling  on  the  element  of  cognition. 

Even  more  than  this  is  true.  Different  intellects  at  the  same  time,  and  the  same  intellect 
at  different  times,  take  different  views  of  the  same  objects,  or  apprehend  in  the  same  object 
different  qualities  and  relations.  As  these  vary,  so  does  the  emotion  vary ;  and  the  same 
object  occasions  different  feelings  in  the  same  persons  at  different  times,  and  in  different  per- 
sons  at  the  same  time,  according  to  the  diverse  judgments  of  the  intellect. 

There  is  a  similar  dependence  in  the  acts  or  states  of  the  will.  To 
choose,  we  must  not  only  know,  but  we  must  also  feel.  If  an  object 
could  be  simply  known,  and  excite  no  feeling,  it  could  not  be  chosen  nor 
rejected.  We  repeat  the  caution  which  we  have  before  provided,  that  it 
is  neither  intended  nor  asserted,  that  each  of  these  elements  occupies  or 
requires  a  separately  definable  or  continuous  portion  of  time,  or  that  each 
should,  so  to  speak,  stand  apart  before  the  eye  of  consciousness.  They 
may,  in  fact  or  in  seeming,  be  blended  together  in  a  single  instantaneous 
state,  and  yet  each  may  be  distinguished  as  the  conditionating,  or  the  con- 
dition ated  element. 

We  have,  thus,  a  second  criterion  for  distinguishing  different  kinds  of 
psychical  activity,  as  they  are  discerned  to  differ  not  only  in  their  recog- 
nized subjective  character,  but  in  their  exciting  occasion. 

3.  Each  act  or  state  of  the  soul  is  characterized  and  dis- 

One  elemen  tpre-        . 

ponderant  m  tinguisned  by  the  presence  and  predominance  of  some  one 
of  the  single  elements  which  we  have  named.  That  is,  each 
state  of  the  soul  is  more  conspicuously  and  eminently  a  state  of  knowl- 
edge, or  of  feeling,  or  of  will,  one  of  these  elements  being  prevailing  and 
predominant.  It  is  natural  and  normal  for  the  soul  to  blend  all  in  one, 
and  by  the  laws  of  its  self-active  nature,  to  spring  at  once  into  all  these 
forms  of  its  appropriate  energy.  If  we  conceive  of  it  as  knowing  with- 


44  INTRODUCTION.  §  29, 

out  feeling,  and  as  feeling  without  choosing,  we  conceive  of  it  as  either 
undeveloped  or  abnormal  in  its  actings,  and  as  incomplete  or  mutilated  in 
their  results.  Its  normal  activity  includes  all  these  elements.  At  every 
instant  of  its  being  it  should  leap  as  by  a  single  bound,  through  the  com- 
pleted curve  of  its  several  capacities.  Sometimes  its  course  seems  to  be 
arrested  ;  often  it  seems  to  be  detained  in  a  single  element ;  most  usually, 
we  may  almost  say  invariably,  one  only  is  prominent  to  the  eye  of  con- 
sciousness, the  other  elements  being  scarcely  noticed  as  present  at  all.  We 
distinguish,  remember,  and  name  such  a  state  by  the  predominating  feature 
or  element.  We  think  of  it  and  call  it  a  state  of  knowledge,  feeling,  or 
will.  We  learn  from  it  the  appropriate  characteristics  of  the  function 
which  prevails,  because  one  element  is  conspicuous  in  this  particular  state. 
4.  Another  determining  circumstance  ought  to  be  noticed. 

Clements  as  re- 
lated to  agent,    Each  of  the  three  elements  which  we  have  as  yet  recognized 

ict,  and  object.  % 

seems  to  have  a  special  relation  to  each  of  the  three  elements 
that  are  distinguishable  in  every  act  of  consciousness,  viz.,  the  agent,  the 
action,  and  the  object  (§77).  In  knowledge,  the  object  seems  to  occupy 
the  energies.  In  a  state  of  aroused  and  concentrated  attention,  the  object 
only  is  thought  of,  and  the  relation  of  the  soul  to  the  object  is  that  of 
which  consciousness  chiefly  takes  notice.  The  soul  itself,  and  the  soul's 
activity,  seem  to  be  almost  absorbed  into  the  object  observed.  In  feeling, 
the  soul's  condition  is  most  engrossing  to  itself  and  conspicuous  to  others. 
In  acts  of  will,  the  individual  agent  asserts  its  individuality  to  itself,  and 
manifests  it  to  others.  The  individual  man  shows  by  his  choices,  or  acts 
of  will,  what  he  is ;  i.  e.,  what  he  makes  of  himself  by  the  direction  and 
the  energy  of  his  individual  will,  as  well  as  what  he  can  do  or  effect  in 
overcoming  obstacles  and  accomplishing  results  within  the  sphere  of  mat- 
ter or  of  spirit. 

§  29.  These  considerations  prove  that  the  several  states  of 
General  author-  the  soul  are  strikingly  distinguished  as  like  or  unlike.  The 

capacity  of  the  soul  for  any  one  of  these  special  kinds  of 
activity  we  call  a  faculty.  If  it  is  asked,  On  what  ground  and  by  what 
authority  ?  we  reply,  For  the  same  reason  that  we  ascribe  or  refer  any 
material  effect  or  phenomenon  to  a  special  power  as  its  source  or  cause. 
If  any  effect  is  constant,  we  ascribe  it  to  a  permanent  power  or  quality  in 
the  material  substance.  One  ore  of  iron  exhibits  magnetic  agency,  and 
produces  magnetic  effects.  To  another  these  are  wholly  wanting.  To 
the  one  we  ascribe,  to  the  other  we  deny  the  magnetic  power.  On  the 
game  ground,  if  there  were  no  other,  we  might  interpret  psychical  effects 
by  referring  each  to  a  special  psychical  power,  which  we  call  a  faculty. 

But  we  have  higher  authority  for  recognizing  special  t'acul- 
special  author-  tjes  jn  faQ  gpbere  of  spirit,  than  for  admitting  determinate 

powers  in  the  world  of  matter.  Of  material  agencies  we 
perceive  nothing  but  the  effects.  Of  the  states  and  effects  of  the  soul  we 


g  30,  1HK   FACULTIES    OF   THE    SOUL.  4£ 

are  c.onscious  that  we  are  the  producers.  In  the  one  case,  we  stand  before 
the  curtain  and  see  the  result,  which  we  ascribe  to  agencies  whose  arrange 
inent  and  working  we  cannot  directly  inspect.  In  the  other  case,  we  are 
ourselves  behind  the  scenes,  and  observe  the  working,  if,  indeed,  we  do 
not  ourselves  work  the  machinery.  We  are  not  merely  cognizant  of  the 
result  when  it  springs  up  in  our  souls — which  we  find  in  act,  we  know  not 
whence  or  how — but  we  bring  the  act  to  puss.  We  know  the  agent,  ami 
distinguish  it  from  the  act.  We  know,  also,  that  its  acts  are  often  attend- 
ed with  effort,  some  with  more  and  some  with  less,  varying  in  all  times  to 
our  conscious  experience.  To  certain  actions,  issuing  in  certain  results,  we 
are  prompted  by  no  effort  at  all.  We  cannot  by  effort  prevent  ourselves 
from  performing  them.  With  these  it  is  with  eminent  propriety  that  we 
connect  the  term  faculty,  from  facilitas^  as  explained  by  Cicero :  "  Facul- 
fates  sunt,  aut  quibus  facilius  fit,  aut  sine  quibus  aliquid  confici  non 
potest" — Cic.  Inv.,  1,  27,  41.  Indeed,  to  say  that  we  perform  such  acts 
with  facility,  is  to  say  very  little  that  expresses  the  fulness  of  our  mean- 
ing.  Power  expresses  far  less,  and  hence  we  limit  faculty  to  those  of  the 
powers  which  are  original,  and  not  acquired.  To  a  facility  acquired  by 
art,  or  imparted  by  special  education  or  discipline,  we  give  the  name  power. 

This  is  not  the  place  fully  to  discuss  the  question,  why  we  refer  effects  in  matter  or  in 
spirit  to  powers  or  agents  as  their  necessary  originators  or  conditions ;  nor  why  we  interpret 
the  kind  or  quality  of  the  power  by  or  through  the  kind  of  effect  or  action  which  is  produced. 
Nor  can  we  here  adjust  the  question,  What  relation  has  the  conscious  exertion  of  energy  by 
the  individual  agent  to  the  conception  of  power  which  we  apply  respectively  to  the  material 
and  the  spiritual  actor?  It  is  sufficient  that  we  notice  the  fact,  that  we  do  apply  it  to  both 
kinds  of  beings,  and  that  we  do  it  with  the  highest  propriety  and  with  the  most  assured  confi- 
dence to  the  capacities  of  the  spirit — the  states  of  which  do  not  come  and  go  as  clouds  chase 
each  other  across  the  heavens,  or  as  one  wave  pushes  another  along  the  ocean,  but  are  known 
to  be  the  manifestations  of  the  energy  of  a  self-conscious  originator. 

8  30.  We  call  the  faculties  thus  ascertained,  the  human  facu1 

These    faculties       .  .^ 

common  to  aii  ties.  We  do  so,  because  certain  states  01  the  soul,  and  cei 
tain  elements  of  these  states,  are  believed  to  be  alike  in  a^ 
human  beings.  No  soul  is  truly  human  in  which  they  are  not  present 
The  exercise  and  experience  of  them  is  necessary  to  every  perfectly  const: 
tuted  and  fully  developed  human  being.  They  may  not  all  be  active  in  a* 
infant  of  a  few  days  old,  but  they  are  sure  to  become  so,  if  the  infant  live*- 
and  nothing  interferes  with  its  normal  development. 

But  when  we  say  that  the  soul  must  possess  these  powers  in  order  to  be 
But  not  in  the  human,  we  do  not  assert  that  any  two  human  beings  possess  them  in  the  same 
same  proportion.  prOp0rti0n,  or  exercise  them  with  the  same  energy.  All  men  percoive, 

remember,  and  reason  ;  but  all  men  do  not  perceive  with  the  same  quickness 
and  accuracy,  nor  do  all  men  remember  with  the  same  readiness  and  reach,  nor  do  they  reason 
with  equal  certainty  and  discrimination.  The  sensibilities  of  some  men  are  obtuse,  and  of 
others  are  acute.  The  choices  and  practical  impulses  of  men  differ  most  of  all.  By  these, 


46  INTRODUCTION.  §  36 

each  man  is  preeminently  himself,  sharing  in  no  sense  his  individuality  with  any  other  humai 
being. 

8  31.  In  these  natural  and  original  differences,  the  faculties 

The  faculties  not     ' 

independent   of    are  not  altogether  independent  one  ot  another.     A  powerful 

one  another. 

intellect,  to  be  developed  into  its  normal  attainment,  needs 
to  be  stimulated  by  strong  feelings  and  to  be  held  and  directed  by  a  de- 
termined will.  Nature  usually  provides  for  the  possibility  of  such  a  devel- 
opment, by  proportioning  the  several  endowments  of  the  soul  to  one 
another.  Hence,  a  man  superior  in  intellect  is  usually  superior  in  the 
capacity  for  energetic  feeling  and  effective  decisions.  If  there  be  a  marked 
disproportion  between  any  one  and  the  others,  we  observe  it  as  irregular 
and  unnatural. 

Any  such  irregularity  is  sure  to  be  manifest,  and  often  to  be  strikingly  conspicuous  in  the 
development  of  the  powers,  from  the  weakness  and  limitations  of  infancy  up  to  the  energy  anc 
comprehensiveness  of  adult  years.  The  soul  with  a  structure  strikingly  abnormal,  cannot 
attain  a  healthy  and  shapely  growth.  Any  striking  predominance  of  the  intellectual  over  tl  € 
emotional  powers,  or  any  defect  in  energy  of  will,  either  prevents  an  even  progress,  or  induces 
premature  feebleness  or  a  dwarfish  stature. 

§  32.  This  law  needs  to  be  observed  in  the  artificial  develop- 
nities  in  educa-  ment  of  the  soul,  by  special  methods  of  discipline  or  plans  of 

education.  The  whole  soul  must  be  educated  in  the  harmony 
of  its  powers,  or  it  cannot  be  successfully  educated  in  any  single  one.  The 
intellect  cannot  be  trained  to  superior  activity  or  successful  achievement 
except  as  the  feelings  are  stimulated  to  a  strong  interest  for  the  objects  to 
which  the  intellect  is  applied,  or  the  ends  for  which  it  acts.  The  will 
must  be  taught  to  concentrate  and  hold  the  energies,  and  to  direct  them  to 
harmonious  and  successful  activity.  We  cannot,  if  we  will,  train  a  single 
power  alone.  When  we  seem  to  bestow  all  our  power  upon  one  only — as 
the  intellect — in  the  education  of  ourselves  or  of  others,  we  are  always,  in 
fact,  acting  upon  the  whole  soul,  in  exciting  new  habits  or  kindling  new 
aspirations. 

§  33.  These  truths  are  not  only  of  great  practical  importance, 
kut  ^ey  need  always  to  be  kept  in  mind  in  psychological 
investigations,  because  they  so   strikingly  illustrate  the  or- 
ganic unity  and  the  eminent  individuality  of  the  soul. 

We  need  ever  to  be  mindful  of  this.  Science  seeks  after  resemblances,  and  thus  is  con- 
tinually impelled  to  overlook  differences.  Or,  if  science  notices  differences,  it  is  the  differences 
by  which  species  are  distinguished,  not  those  "by  which  individuals  are  separated.  With  th< 
Individual  peculiarities  which  refuse  to  be  classed  with  any  other  under  some  common  concep- 
tion, science  disdains  to  concern  itself.  All  objects  in  Nature  have  in  some  sense  an  individual 
unity,  which  science  cannot  wholly  master  and  overcome  ;  but  the  soul  is  more  intensely  and 
eminently  one  and  individual  than  any  other.  Its  oneness,  and  hence  its  individuality,  is  the 
most  complete  and  conspicuous  of  that  of  any  of  the  objects  with  which  science  has  to  do. 


§33.  THE   FACULTIES    OF   THE   SOUL.  41 

We  say  a  piece  of  iron,  or  any  mere  aggregate  or  mass,  is 
one,  when  its  constituent  particles  or  atoms  are  permanently 
held  together  by  adhesive  attraction.  The  law  of  chemical 
affinity  makes  two  unlike  substances  into  a  third  unlike  either,  which  is 
eminently  one  by  the  completeness  of  the  interpenetration  and  combination, 
But  even  bodies  thus  made  one  can  be  readily  made  two  again  through 
mechanical  division,  without  altering  their  nature  or  changing  their  func- 
tions. It  is  not  so  with  a  plant  or  an  animal,  with  a  few  apparent  but 
inconsiderable  exceptions.  A  plant  is  one,  so  long  as  its  several  organs 
act  together,  and  the  functions  of  each  conspire  with  the  functions  oi 
every  other  to  the  common  existence  and  the  developed  growth  of  the 
whole.  The  unity  of  the  plant  consists  in,  or  rather  arises  from,  the  action 
of  each  of  these  organs  with  and  upon  every  ether,  and  the  united  action 
of  the  whole  through  the  integrity  of  an  undivided  structure.  Let  this 
structure  be  once  broken  up,  and  usually  the  unity  that  is  the  life  of  the 
whole  is  destroyed.  Though  the  parts  are  again  united,  the  plant  is  no 
longer  one  /  it  is  usually  no  longer  a  plant.  The  same  is  true,  only  more 
strikingly  and  eminently,  of  the  living  animal.  The  animal  ceases  to  be 
one  when  its  structure  is  divided,  because  the  reciprocal  action  of  its  sev- 
eral organs  is  thereby  forever  rendered  impossible. 

But  the  soul  is  one  in  a  higher  sense  even  than  the  plant  and 
Unity  ^e  anmial  are  one-  I*  nas>  indeed,  no  material  structure, 
the  visible  and  tangible  bond  of  its  material  organs,  each 
appropriate  to  one  of  its  complex  powers.  But  these  faculties  are  depend- 
ent on  one  another  by  a  union  so  intimate,  that  the  soul  cannot  act  with 
one  except  as  it  also  acts  with  the  others.  It  cannot  grow  in  the  capacity 
or  energy  of  one  except  as  it  grows  in  the  energy  of  the  others.  One  kind 
of  action  is  the  essential  condition  of  the  other,  whenever  the  soul  mani- 
fests its  developed  life.  But  above  all,  the  soul,  in  all  its  conscious  activ- 
ity, refers  these  various  forms  of  action,  thus  interdependent  on  each 
other,  to  one  central  force.  It  knows  its  unity,  in  a  large  portion  of  its 
direct  experience.  It  is  not  more  certain  that  it  acts  in  various  ways,  each 
intimately  related  to  another,  than  it  is  that  one  person,  the  undivided  and 
self-conscious  ego,  acts  in  all  these  ways.  This  ego  knows,  in  all  its  varie- 
ties of  cognition,  and  all  the  variety  of  objects  which  it  can  apprehend. 
It  also  feels,  as  variously  in  the  quality  and  intensity  of  this  kind  of  sub- 
jective experience  as  its  subjective  and  objective  conditions  allow.  But 
it  is  by  its  actings  in  choice,  or  as  the  will,  that  its  individuality  is  pre- 
eminently  known  to  itself  and  by  itself  to  be  one,  not  only  as  it  is  en- 
dowed by  nature  with  a  separate  individuality,  but  as  it  makes  itself  to  be 
what  it  is  by  its  individual  acts. 

It  is  true  that  each  soul  is  like  every  other  soul  in  those  powers  by  which  it  is  human.  It 
a  unlike  every  other,  not  only  in  the  proportion  of  the  faculties  and  attainments  which  aw 
comparable  to  those  minuter  shadinga  of  form  and  properties  in  the  individual  plant  or  animal, 


48  INTRODUCTION.  §  34 

which  are  beyond  the  reach  of  the  classifying  power,  but  also  in  the  consc  £>us  and  necessarj 
reference  of  every  action  to  the  individual  ego.  It  is  preeminently  one,  as  by  its  own  self- 
activity  it  gives  to  each  act  of  its  voluntary  and  rational  life  a  direction  and  energy  which  it 
shares  with  no  other  being  and  no  other  act  of  its  own  being.  It  was  contended  by  Leibnitz, 
and  with  much  show  of  reason,  that  of  the  myriads  of  millions  of  leaves  in  a  forest,  no  two 
are  exactly  alike.  We  know  that  among  the  millions  of  human  faces,  each  has  individual 
peculiarities,  a  oneness  that  is  eminently  its  own.  But  of  all  the  human  souls  that  are  01 
Bhall  be,  each,  though  allied  to  every  other  by  a  common  human  nature,  and  obeying  common 
human  laws,  has  yet  that  individual  oneness  which  is  received  from  nature,  which  ia  the  prod- 
uct of  its  circumstances,  and,  more  than  all,  which  is  originated  and  sustained  by  its  own  indi- 
vidual energy. 


Unit    does  not    §  34'  "^ut  tnougk  tne  sou^  *n  these  respects  is  peculiarly  and 


com-  preeminently  one,  it  is  not  thereby  single  in  the  sense  of 
excluding  a  complex  organization.  Rather  do  its  unity  arid 
individuality  depend  upon  and  require  a  complex  organism  of  faculties 
and  powers.  We  observe  that,  in  all  organisms,  the  more  complicated  is 
the  structure,  the  more  numerous  the  powers,  and  the  more  intimate 
their  interdependence,  the  more  conspicuous  is  the  individuality.  Just  in 
proportion  as  the  structure  is  complex  in  its  organs  and  in  the  variety  of 
its  possible  functions,  just  in  that  proportion  is  there  the  possibility  of  an 
unshared  individuality,  by  means  of  the  greater  number  of  particulars 
in  which  no  other  single  being  can  be  like  this  one. 

The  complexity  of  the  soul  is  exemplified  in  the  known  variety  of  its  observed  modes  of 
action,  in  the  manifold  conditions  and  objects  to  which  it  is  known  to  be  adapted,  in  the 
posssible  variety  of  others  for  which  it  has  latent  and  unused  capacities,  and  in  the  conspicu- 
ous variety  that  is  attained  by  different  individuals,  as  the  result  of  differing  developments  and 
various  culture.  The  soul  is  complex  in  its  attributes  and  organization,  as  shown  in  the  variety 
of  the  functions  of  which  we  are  directly  conscious  ;  it  is  also  capable  of  all  the  activities  which 
are  required  by  its  connections  with  the  living  body,  as  it  both  sustains  its  life  and  develop- 
ment, and  receives  from  it  all  the  excitements  and  impressions  which,  known  and  unknown, 
are  the  conditions  and  attendants  of  its  appropriately  spiritual  states.  Its  complex  nature  la 
further  manifested  in  its  capacity  to  cognize  and  be  interested  in  so  vast  a  variety  of  objects 
in  nature  and  in  all  living  beings,  both  those  above  and  below  and  equal  to  itself.  Not 
only  has  the  soul  capacities  for  those  objects  which  are  fitted  to  its  original  endowment^ 
but  these  endowments,  when  further  developed,  seem  to  become  like  new  capacities,  and 
these  are  set  over  against  their  own  special  objects.  Indeed,  the  very  capacity  for  the  mani- 
fold development  of  and  increase  in  the  power  and  range  of  an  original  endowment,  is  itself 
a  striking  proof  that  within  every  soul  lie,  as  it  were,  unborn  powers,  which  themselves  contain 
the  germs  of  other  powers  capable  of  being  ia  their  turn  developed.  The  capacity  for  that 
great  number  of  acquired  energies,  habits,  and  tastes  which  often  become  more  than  a  second 
nature,  itself  argues  a  complex  organism.  If  we  consider  the  soul  as  capable  of  existing  in 
new  conditions  of  being,  and  as  endowed  with  powers  appropriate  to  such  conditions  that 
are  as  yet  inactive  and  unsuspected,  we  must  enlarge  still  more  widely  our  conception  of  its 
complex  structure. 

But  the  more  largely  complex  the  soul  is  in  the  wealth  of  its  known 
and-  its  yet  unrevealed  endowments,  the  more  strikingly  is  its  unity  illus- 
trated in  the  working  of  these  endowments  with  one  another  to  the  pro 


§  35.  THE  FACULTIES  OF  THE  SOUL.  49 

gressive  development  and  increasing  power  of  a  single  living  being.  But 
its  unity  is  most  conspicuous  in  the  circumstance,  that  the  being  refers 
this  increase  of  knowledge,  skill,  and  moral  capacity  to  itself,  through  its 
conscious  knowing,  feeling,  and  choosing.  The  dignity  of  the  soul  is 
shown  by  its  varied  adaptations  to  the  universe  of  matter,  life,  and  mind, 
and  by  its  capacity  to  respond  to  and  interpret  this  complex  universe  by  its 
answering  powers,  and  most  of  all,  in  that  it  can  distinguish  itself,  as  the 
one  agent  and  patient,  from  all  which  it  observes  and  cares  for. 

§  35.  The  powers  of  this  complex  yet  individual  soul  with 
wmiftlireefoid!16  which  our  science  is  concerned,  are  those  only  which  are 

manifested  in  or  through  its  conscious  acts  or  states.  All 
the  other  powers  are  left  unconsidered,  except  so  far  as  they  incidentally 
relate  to  these  conscious  exercises  or  experiences.  Our  conscious  acts  or 
states  are  separated  into  the  three  broad  and  general  divisions  of  states 
of  knowledge,  states  of  feeling,  and  states  of  will.  To  knowT,  to  feel,  and 
to  choose,  are  the  most  obviously  distinguishable  states  of  the  soul.  These 
are  referred  to  three  powers  or  faculties,  which  are  designated  as  the 
intellect,  the  sensibility,  and  the  will. 

This  threefold  division  of  the  powers  of  the  conscious  ego  is  now  universally  adopted  by 

History   of    the     tllose  who  accePt  anY  division  or  doctrine  of  faculties.    It  has  taken  the  place  of  tha 

division  into  fac-     twofold  division  which  formerly  prevailed,  into  the  understanding  and  the  will ;  accord  . 

ing  to  which  the  sensibility,  or  the  soul's  capacity  for  emotion,  was  included  unde*: 

the  will,  and  the  affections,  as  they  were  usually  called,  were  regarded  as  phenomena 

of  the  will. 

Aristotle  divided  the  powers  of  the  soul  into  the  vegetative,  the  perceptive  (including  the  phantasy;, 
the  locomotive,  the  impulsive  or  orectic  (including  the  affectional  and  emotional),  and  the  noetic.  All  these, 
except  the  noetic,  are  shared  by  the  brutes.  The  NoOs  was  divine,  perhaps  preexistent  and  imperishable. 
Cf.  De  Gen.,  el  Cor.  ii.  3 ;  De  An.  iii.  5.  The  distinction  of  body,  soul,  and  spirit,  as  we  have  already 
noticed,  was  nearly  coincident  with  this,  though  more  general,  and  recognized  under  the  n^eC/m  special  re- 
lations  to  the  Divine  Spirit.  The  echoolmen  retained  this  division,  and  distinguished  three  classes  of 
souls,  as  follows :  the  vegetative,  of  plants,  the  vegetative  and  perceptive,  of  animals,  the  vegetative, 
perceptive  and  rational,  of  man.  The  two  last  have  in  common  the  impulsive  and  locomotive. 

The  moderns,  throwing  out  of  their  classification  the  powers  not  apprehended  in  consciousness 
reduced  the  remainder  to  two  :  the  intellectual  and  impulsive,  or  the  powers  of  the  understanding  an  I  th 
powers  of  the  will.  This  classification  was  a  long  time  current. 

Aristotle  had  recognized  under  the  orectic,  or  imptilsive  powers — the  powers  of  the  will,  which  we  hnvi 
noticed— a  threefold  subdivision. :  e7ri0v/u.ia,  0vju,6?,  /SouAijais.  Theologians  had  for  a  long  period  distingutel  i& 
the  affections  and  the  will,  and  zealously  discussed  the  relations  of  the  one  to  the  other.  Locke  carefully  t  n< 
earnestly  distinguished  will  from  desire,  without,  however,  proposing  a  threefold  division  of  the  pcrvrs 
(Essay,  B.  II.  c.  21.  §§  6,  30,  31.)  Reid  does  substantially  the  same,  inasmuch  as  he  retains  the  reo«i  fe< 
division  in  its  accepted  import  in  his  Intellectual  Powers,  Essay  I.,  c.  7  ;  but  in  his  Active  Powers,  li&sa- 
[I.,  c's.  1  and  2,  he  limits  the  will  to  the  capacity  to  determine  or  choose,  excluding  from  it  the  capacif  y  fo 
both  emotion  and  desire.  Dugald  Stewart  (Active  and  Moral  Powers},  following  Reid,  adopted  a  thrr  efoli 
classification  without  the  formal  nomenclature.  But  Dr.  Thomas  Brown  goes  backward  from  all,  distinctl; 
asserting  that  the  will  is  a  modification  of  desire,  and  a  volition  is  only  the  strongest  or  prevailing  desire 
Lectures,  &c.  Kant  subdivided  the  impulsive  and  orectic  into  two,  viz.,  feeling  and  desire.  Krttik  u 
Urthcils- Kraft,  Einleitung  and  Anthropologie.  Prof.  T.  C.  Upham  distinguished  the  power  of  th«  sou'' 
formally,  as  intellect,  sensibility,  and  will. 

Hamilton  divided  the  powers  of  the  soul  into  the  faculties  of  knowledge,  capacities  of  feeling  and 
powers  of  conation — t.  c.,  of  desire  and  will.  Desire  and  will  he  distinguished  respectively  as  a  blind  or 
fatal,  and  a  free  or  deliberate  tendency  to  act.  Met.  Led.  XI. 

Among  modem  writers,  Herbart  and  his  school  have  made  themselves  conspicuous  by 

Modern      °PP°"     rejecting  the  doctrine  of  faculties  of  the  soul  in  general,  and  of  the  intellect  in  particu- 

tipg.  S  "     lar,  as  inconsistent  with  the  essential  unity  of  the  soul,  and  as  self-contradictory  in  both 

conception  and  statement.    But  Herbart  insists  most  earnestly  that  the  soul  possesses  a 

4 


50  INTRODUCTION.  §  36. 

capacity  for  self-assertion,  and  that  these  self-assertions  vary  hoth  in  kind  and  degree  with  the  condition! 
which  call  them  forth.  His  doctrine  is  not  unlike  that  of  Leibnitz  respecting  monads  of  all  classes,  and 
preeminently  of  the  conscious  monads,  that  they  represent  or  reflect  all  other  objects,  and  that  in  this  indi- 
vidual capacity  lies  their  individual  being.  But  diverse  capacities  for  these  varying  self-assertions,  or,  in 
modern  torminclogy,  for  'reactions,'  involves  all  that  is  essential,  and  \ve  may  add,  all  that  is  objected  to 
in  the  doctrine  of  '  faculties; '  the  one  being  no  more  incompatible  with  the  soul's  unity  than  is  the  other 

Hfcrbart,  moreover,  affirms  of  the  ideas — '  VorslcUungcn ' — all  that  he  denies  to  faculties,  giving  them 
the  power  to  net  and  react  on  each  other  in  such  a  variety  of  ways,  and  with  independent  energies,  as  to 
explain  all  the  varying  psychical  phenomena.  "While  he  contends  most  earnestly  that  the  soul  is  one — a 
monad  without  relations  to  space — he  makes  it  the  arena,  literally  the  '  show-place,'  of  all  manner  of  active 
and  antagonistic  agents,  which  are  evolved  from  its  own  being  by  the  objects  that  excite  them. 

The  associational  and  cerebral  psychologists  reject  the  doctrine  of  faculties  as  commonly  received,  and 
resolve  all  the  operations  and  products  of  the  soul  into  the  single  power  of  association  between  its  ideas, 
this  being  in  their  view  the  single  function  either  of  the  soul  or  its  ideas,  and  that  into  which  all  its  re- 
maii.ing  powers  and  activities  may  be  resolved.  See  the  account  given  of  these  systems,  §§  41,  43. 

For  Herbart's  doctrine  of  the  faculties,  see  his  Psychologic  als  Wzssenscfwft,  Konigsberg,  1824 ;  also 
J.  D.  Morell,  Introduction  to  Mental  Philosophy,  Lond.,  1862.  See  also  A.  Bain,  The  Senses  and  the  Intel" 
lect,  Lond.,  1855.  Against  Herbart,  see  Lotze,  Mikrokosmus,  vol.  i.,  B.  ii.,  c.  2,  Leipzig,  1856. 

§  36.  We  call  these  endowments  of  the  soul,  powers,  /acid* 
Spac Ity faCUlty>    ^es'>  caPacitiesi  with  some  difference  of  meaning  and  applica- 
tion for  each. 

The  word  power  is  applied  to  the  active  properties  of  material  objects, 
as  well  as  to  those  which  pertain  to  spirit.  Originally,  it  was  employed  by 
Aristotle  in  contradistinction  to  act.  Hence,  power  and  action  are  always 
contrasted,  and  beings  are  always  contemplated  by  him  as  «j/  Swd^er  and 
ei/  evepyt'a.  Force  is  quite  as  frequently  used  as  power  of  material  objects 
and  agents,  and  in  the  collective  sense  the  forces  of  nature  are  more  fre- 
quently spoken  of  than  its  powers.  When  power  is  applied  to  the  soul, 
it  is  used  in  a  larger  signification  than  faculty  ;  for  by  it  we  designate  the 
capacities  which  are  acquired,  as  well  as  those  which  are  original.  All 
men  are  said  to  be  endowed  with  the  faculty  of  memory.  A  few  are  said 
to  have,  or  to  have  attained  to,  the  power  of  remembering  with  surprising 
reach  and  accuracy.  All  men  have  the  faculty  of  sense-perception,  but 
seamen  gain  the  power  of  seeing  objects  at  a  very  great  distance. 

Faculty  is  properly  limited  to  the  endowments  which  are  natural  to 
man  and  universal  with  the  race.  We  also  limit  the  term  by  a  sense  of 
natural  propriety  to  those  endowments  which  are  especially  spiritual,  and 
which  manifest  the  independent  and  higher  energy  of  the  soul. 

Capacity  signifies  greater  passiveness  or  receptivity  than  either  of  the 
others.  Hence  it  is  more  usually  applied  to  that  in  the  soul  by  which  it  does 
or  can  suffer,  or  to  dormant  and  inert  possibilities  to  be  aroused  to  exertions 
of  strength  or  skill,  or  to  make  striking  advances  through  education  and  habit. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  however,  that  in  common  life,  and  even  in  philosophy,  we  do  not 
invariably  use  these  terms  with  a  technical  precision  or  with  uniform  and  invariable  con- 
sistency.  Thus  we  speak  usually  of  the  intellectual  faculty,  or  the  intellectual  faculties — 
rarely,  if  ever,  of  the  emotional  faculty,  or  the  faculty  of  feeling,  or  the  voluntary  faculty,  or 
faculty  of  will.  We  almost  invariably  speak  of  the  intellectual  faculty  or  faculties,  of  the 
capacities  for  feeling,  and  of  the  powers  or  the  power  of  will.  The  connection  in  each  of 
these  phrases  explains  the  reason  why  each  term  is  preferred,  and  suggests  the  shade  of  meai* 
ing  <vhich  is  appropriate  to  each. 


g  38,  IS   PSYCHOLOGY   A    SCIENCE  ?  51 

§  37.  The  normal  operations  of  each  of  these  faculties  are 
phSwfej2fte  called  its  functions.  The  term  is  taken  from  the  action  of 
the  bodily  organs.  From  these  it  is  transferred  to  organs  in 
the  metaphorical  sense,  as  the  '  organs  of  government,'  and  the  4  functions ' 
which  they  perform.  In  both  these  applications  it  has  come  to  mean, 
tirst,  the  appropriate  operations  of  each,  and  then  the  activities  to  which 
(hey  are  appointed,  set  apart,  or  destined.  This  signification  is  promi 
nent  in  the  use  of  the  term  when  it  is  applied  to  the  activities  of  the 
powers  of  the  soul.  In  this  use  it  is  assumed  that  there  are  activities  for 
which  the  soul  is  designed — modes  of  operation  which  are  destined  for,  or 
conduce  to,  the  end  of  its  being.  Hence  the  normal  or  regular  activities 
of  these  powers  are  called  functions. 

States  of  the  soul  are  often  spoken  of.  The  phrase  has  passed  into 
current  if  not  into  technical  use.  Strictly  interpreted,  it  would  designate 
the  more  permanent  or  enduring,  as  contrasted  with  the  more  transient 
phenomena.  It  has  come,  however,  to  mean  any  condition  of  the  soul 
whatever,  whether  regarded  as  act  or  product,  whether  as  the  producing 
act  or  the  produced  effect. 

Phenomenon  is  used  as  properly  of  spiritual  as  of  material  beings  or 
agents.  Literally,  it  means  that  which  appears  to,  or  is  known  directly  by 
the  senses :  next  in  order  that  which  is  known  as  a  fact  by  the  mind.  In 
science,  it  signifies  more  precisely  that  which  is  known  as  a  fact,  in  dis- 
tinction from  its  explanation  by  a  force,  principle,  or  law.  Whether  this 
explanation  has  or  has  not  yet  been  furnished,  makes  no  difference.  What- 
ever is  or  is  not  yet  explained,  when  viewed  solely  as  a  fact,  is  called  a 
phenomenon. 

The  English  word  appearance  carries  with  it  the  meaning,  or  at  least  the  suggestion,  of 
unreality.  It  often  means  and  is  understood  as  a  mere  appearance,  a  possible  illusion.  No 
such  signification  belongs  to  phenomenon,  and  hence  the  term  phenomenon  has  become  estab- 
lished in  psychical  as  well  as  in  material  science  as  a  technical  term  with  a  determinate 
meaning. 

IY. 

is   PSYCHOLOGY  A  SCIENCE? — Can  there  be  a   Science   of  the  Human 
Soul  f  and  what  are  its  Principles  and  Methods  f 

In  the  preceding  chapters  we  have  impliedly  answered  these  questions.  In  the  subsequent 
examination  of  consciousness  they  will  be  discussed  more  fully,  and  the  nature  and 
authority  of  psychological  science  will  be  more  completely  described  and  explained. 
Cf.  §§  89-95.  It  seems  desirable,  however,  that  a  condensed  and  formal  statemf  at  of 
the  nature  and  possibility  of  such  a  science  should  be  presented,  at  the  beginning  of  our 
inquiries,  in  connection  with  the  various  counter-theories. 

838.  Our  own  theory  may  be  briefly  stated,  thus  :  The  facts 

Materials  of  psy-     '  1,1  -i  -i      •       j 

jhuiogy ;  an  in-    or  materials  with  which  psychology  has  to  do  are  derived 

i  active  science.  .  • 

from  two  sources — consciousness  and  sense-perception. 


$2  INTRODUCTION.  §  38 

sciousness  is  the  source  from  which  these  materials  are  directly  derived, 
and  it  is  the  facts  of  consciousness  which  psychology  primarily  and  almost 
exclusively  seeks  to  arrange  in  a  scientific  method,  and  to  explain  by  scieu 
titic  principles.  But,  indirectly,  sense-perception  comes  to  the  aid  antf 
support  of  consciousness,  as  physiology  furnishes  that  knowledge  of  the 
functions  and  states  of  the  body  which  prepare  the  objects  of  the  sense- 
perceptions,  and  are  the  essential  conditions  of  the  development  and  the 
activity  of  the  soul.  The  facts  of  this  class  are  attested  by  the  senses  and 
interpreted  by  induction,  and  are  in  all  respects  subject  to  the  laws  and 
methods  of  the  other  sciences  of  matter.  Both  these  classes  of  facts  must 
be  considered  in  conjunction,  must  be  observed  with  attention,  must  be 
analyzed  into  their  ultimate  elements,  must  be  compared,  classed,  arid 
interpreted  according  to  the  methods  which  are  common  to  it  and  the 
other  inductive  sciences. 

is  also  the  sci  ^°  ^ar  **  wou^  seem  that  psychology  is  as  truly  an  inductive 
encc  of  indue-  science  as  are  the  sciences  of  any  other  existences  or  classes 
of  beings.  It  is  distinguished  from  them  by  two  striking 
peculiarities.  The  first  of  these  is,  that  its  subject-matter  is  attested  by 
consciousness  to  be  sui  generis,  consisting  of  phenomena  which  cannot  be 
resolved  into  material  entities  or  agents,  and  cannot  always  be  subjected 
to  or  judged  by  analogies  furnished  by  material  agents,  phenomena,  or 
laws.  The  second  peculiarity  is,  that  this  subject-matter  is  in  part  the 
function  of  knowledge  itself,  being  the  very  agency  by  which  all  scientific 
knowledge  is  effected,  the  knowledge  of  matter  as  well  as  the  knowledge 
of  the  mind.  This  function,  psychology  must  examine,  not  only  in  its 
various  processes,  and  their  relations  to  one  another,  but  in  its  products, 
and  their  mutual  dependence  and  relative  authority  (§  57).  This  involves 
the  analysis  of  the  products  themselves  into  their  constituents,  whether 
these  constituents  are  gathered  from  experience,  or  are  necessarily  involved 
in  the  act  of  knowledge  itself,  and  therefore  derived  from  the  nature 
of  the  soul  as  a  knowing  agent,  and  dependent  upon  it  as  their  authority. 
By  this  peculiar  feature,  the  science  of  the  human  soul  becomes  the  scien- 
tific study  of  the  principles  and  laws  of  all  knowledge,  and  of  each  one  of 
the  sciences,  and  thus  leads  to  the  prima  philosophia.  In  every  other 
feature  except  this,  psychology  takes  rank  with  the  other  inductive  sci- 
ences, and  is  coordinate  with  them  in  its  subjection  to  a  common  method. 
But  by  this  last  feature  it  becomes  in  a  sense  the  arbiter  of  them  all,  as  it 
tries  and  tests  the  methods  and  principles  common  to  them  all,  itself 
included.  While,  then,  psychology  is  an  inductive  science,  with  a  peculiar 
subject-matter  to  which  it  points  us  continually,  and  to  the  source  from 
which  it  is  derived,  as  exempting  it  from  the  associations  and  preposses- 
sions with  which  physical  philosophy  would  invest  it,  it  is  not  merely  ac 
inductive  science,  but  is,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  science  of  induction  itself 
It  certainly  leads  us  to  examine  the  fundamental  principles  of  all  the  sci 


§40  IS   PSYCHOLOGY   A  SCIENCE?  5? 

ences,  by  showing  that  such  principles  exist,  and  demand  scrutiny  and 

verification. 

These  views  are  very  generally  received  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  psychology  as  a  sci- 
ence, and  in  answer  to  the  question  whether  such  a  science  is  possible.  The  opinions  of  those 
who  dissent  from  them  may  be  classed  as  follows  : 

§  39.  A  very  large  number  of  persons  deny  that  psychology  can  ever 
Psychology  too  become  a  science,  because  of  the  vagueness  and  uncertainty  of  the  subject- 
tbftmatical.  matter.  They  insist  with  especial  earnestness  upon  the  point  that  it  is 

impossible  to  explain  the  processes  of  the  soul  by  laws  expressed  in  mathe- 
matical formulae.  They  affirm  that  we  can  never  go  beyond  certain  general  and  obvious 
ln'uths  concerning  the  nature  and  activities  of  the  human  soul,  because  these  activities  are  not 
discernible  by  the  senses,  cannot  be  verified  by  experiment  and  accounted  for  by  what  they 
call  scientific  laws.  Science,  they  allege,  knows  nothing  of  powers,  either  in  matter  or  in 
spirit.  It  does  not  concern  itself  with  the  constituents  of  things,  or  with  the  essential  and 
ultimate  properties  of  matter  or  spirit.  It  has  to  do  with  phenomena  only,  and  it  seeks  to 
learn  the  order  and  laws  of  their  occurrence  by  definite  statements  concerning  their  mathe- 
matical relations.  Force  is  measured  by  number ;  so  is  the  quantity  of  matter ;  so  are  press- 
ure, motion,  attraction,  and  repulsion,  in  short,  every  thing  with  which  science,  as  such,  has 
to  do.  The  range  of  science  proper,  they  contend,  is  limited  within  the  domain  where  mathe- 
matical relations  apply,  and  cannot  include  the  facts  of  psychology  to  any  effective  or  valu- 
able result. 

To  reply  to  this  general  position  is  here  inappropriate.  It  is  sufficient  to  say, 
render  a  science  that  if  this  view  of  scientific  knowledge  should  be  accepted,  it  would  exclude 
ble.llfe  impossi"  the  science  of  life  in  all  its  forms  as  truly  as  the  science  of  the  soul.  It  is 

enough  that  it  proves  too  much,  and  therefore  cannot  be  true.  Science  does 
inquire  after  the  powers,  the  conditions,  and  causes  of  phenomena,  as  truly  as  it  concerns 
itself  with  the  mathematical  relations  of  either.  Besides,  it  is  always  pertinent  to  observe, 
that  the  power  by  which  we  are  impelled  to  seek,  and  by  which  we  attain  scientific  knowledge, 
is  the  only  authority  for  our  confidence  in  science  itself.  To  distrust  the  possibility  of  exact 
and  determinate  knowledge  of  the  conditions  and  laws  of  this  power,  is  to  distrust  the  author- 
ity of  science.  If  the  soul,  as  the  agent  of  science,  cannot  itself  be  known  in  its  processes 
and  their  results,  then  the  processes  have  no  value,  and  the  products  no  binding  force. 

This  general  prejudice  against  the  possibility  of  attaining  precise  conceptions  of  the 
activities  of  the  soul  may  be  dismissed  as  the  result  of  that  ignorance  which  is  intensified  by 
a  partial  knowledge.  No  man  is  so  positive  in  his  prejudices  against  that  of  which  he  knows 
little,  as  the  man  who  is  master  of  a  certain  domain  of  knowledge,  and  therefore  assumes  to 
measure  and  judge  that  which  he  does  not,  by  that  which  he  does  fully  know.  The  idola 
thcatri  which  Bacon,  Nov.  Org.,  B.  I.,  §§  44,  62-65,  so  clearly  describes  and  so  pointedly 
condemns,  have  exerted  their  influence  over  no  class  of  philosophers  so  conspicuously  as  over 
the  physicists  of  the  present  generation,  in  their  judgments  of  the  claims  of  psychology  to  be 
regarded  as  a  science. 

§  40.  The  materialists  of  every  sort  hold  a  very  positive  and  consistent  view 
Views  of  mate-  of  our  subject.  They  all  contend  that  a  science  of  the  soul  is  possible  and 

real,  because  the  substance  of  the  soul  is  material,  and  its  phenomena  can 

therefore  all  be  explained  by  the  laws  and  relations  of  matter.  Their  cardinal 
axiom  is -.there  is  nothing  substantially  existent  in  the  universe  except  what  has  extension  and 
sensible  properties.  The  phenomena  of  the  soul  are  therefore  the  manifestations  or  actinga 
of  an  existence  of  this  kind,  and  can  be  resolved  by  scientific  methods  just  so  far  as  they  can 
be  referred  to  changes  in  the  constitution  or  the  actings  of  this  extended  and  material  sub- 
stratum. We  pass  over  the  grosser  and  cruder  theories  of  the  ancient  schools,  who  resolved 
Ihe  soul  into  some  form  of  refined  but  uno~  ganized  matter,  as  now  universally  outgrown  an/ 


54  INTRODUCTION  §41, 

rejected :  aud  notice  only  that  form  of  modern  materialism  which  passes  current  with  so  manj 
Scientific  men.  This  theory  makes  the  brain  and  nervous  system  the  proper  sul stance  of  tlia 
soul,  and  its  phenomena  to  be  explicable  by  the  peculiar  activity  of  this  highly  organized  mate- 
rial substance.  It  has  this  in  common  with  the  materialism  of  the  grosser  sort,  tfiat  it  holds  il 
to  be  impossible  that  there  should  be  any  agent  of  psychical  phenomena  except  matter.  The 
fact  that  the  matter  is  organized  makes  no  difference  with  this  assumption,  except  that  3 
smooths  many  of  the  difficulties  and  disarms  many  of  the  objections  to  which  the  cruder  mate- 
rialism was  exposed. 

Auguste  Comte  represents  and  describes  this  theory  of  psychological  science  in  the  following  language : 
"  The  positive  theory  of  the  intellectual  and  affective  functions  is  therefore  henceforth  unchangeably  re- 
garded as  consisting  in  the  study,  both  rational  and  experimental,  of  the  various  phenomena  of  internal 
sensibility,  which  are  proper  to  the  cerebral  ganglia,  apart  from  their  external  apparatus.  It  therefore  ia 
only  a  simple  prolongation  of  animal  physiology  properly  so-called,  when  this  is  extended  so  as  to  include 
the  fundamental  and  ultimate  attributes."  '  In  regarding  it,  however,  as  a  simple  subdivision  of  animal 
physiology,'  "  we  ought  not  to  leave  out  of  view  the  very  close  connection  of  this  third  sort  of  physiology 
With  animal  physiology  as  it  is  usually  understood,  from  which  it  differs  far  less  than  this  last  differs  from 
simple  organic  or  vegetable  physiology."  Phil.  Pos.,  Led.  45,  3d  vol.,  pp.  766-9. 

Herbert  Spencer,  though  not  an  avowed  materialist  in  form,  shows  that  he  is,  in  fact,  in  that  he  teachea 
that  psychical  action  is  only  a  more  highly  developed  form  of  vital  action,  the  capacity  for  which,  in  its 
turn,  has  been  developed  from  a  lower  form  of  being,  viz. :  the  unorganized.  His  materialism  becomes 
conspicuous  when  he  makes  the  d priori  necessity  under  which  he  accepts  necessary  truths,  to  be  itself  the 
product  of  a  tendency  first  acquired  by  frequent  association ;  and  then  augmented  into  an  inseparable  con- 
nection, which,  being  transmitted  with  increased  force  through  many  generations  of  material  or  cerebral 
organisms,  reappears  at  last  in  the  form  of  d  priori  knowledge. 

§  41.  The  materialists  of  the  present  day  are  properly  called  Cerebral  Psy- 
The  cerebralist  chologists,  and  plant  themselves  on  the  more  recent  discoveries  of  physiology 
theory.  ^  regpect  to  ^be  brain  and  the  nervous  system.  These  discoveries  are  those 

of  the  reflex  nervous  action  by  the  agency  of  the  afferent  and  efferent  nerves, 
made  by  Sir  Charles  Bell :  the  discovery  of  the  independent  activity  of  the  several  systems  of 
nerves,  made  by  Marshall  Hall;  of  the  capacity  for  increased  nervous  energy,  and  the  flow  of  a 
more  effective  nervous  stimulus,  which  is  induced  by  the  repeated  action  of  any  organ,  whether 
internal  or  external,  whether  muscle  or  brain;  of  the  change  in  the  substance  of  the  braiL. 
attendant  upon  higher  mental  development — a  change  in  bulk  and  complexity ;  and,  last  of 
all,  the  discovery  of  the  provision  for  the  consentient  or  consilient  action  of  different  organs 
of  the  body,  by  the  coordinating  agency  of  the  great  nerve  centres,  which  tendency  can  be 
greatly  augmented  and  modified  by  culture  and  habit.  These  physiological  facts,  combined 
with  the  doctrine  of  the  association  of  ideas,  which  is  resolved  by  many  into  the  physical  coac- 
tion  and  coalescence  of  nerve  movements  and  nerve  cells,  are  the  data  or  materials  out  of 
which  the  Cerebral  Psychologists  construct  their  science  of  the  human  soul.  Some  cerebralisti 
venture  to  avail  themselves  of  the  as  yet  partially  established  doctrine  of  the  correlation  of 
physical  forces,  in  support  of  the  conclusion  that  mind,  or  soul-energy,  is  but  the  spiritual  co^ 
relate  or  metamorphose  of  so  much  brain  or  nervous  energy.  Many  of  these  views  are  abl  y 
represented  in  the  works  of  Professor  Alexander  Bain,  of  Aberdeen,  entitled  The  Senses  an-i 
the  Intellect,  and  The  Emotions  and  the  Will,  also,  Mental  and  Moral  Science,  etc. 

The  facts  and  phenomena  recognized  by  the  cerebralists  are  true  and  impor- 
Their  theory  re-  tant.  The  most  of  them  should  be  recognized  in  anthropology,  or  the  science 
fated-  which  treats  of  the  relations  of  the  soul  to  the  body.  We  may  even  admit 

that  they  all  deserve  to  be  considered  among  the  conditions  of  the  purely 
psychical  activities.  But  they  are  only  the  invariable  antecedents  or  the  essential  conditions  oi 
these  phenomena,  so  long  as  the  agent  which  performs  them  acts  also  with  those  which  arc 
purely  corporeal  or  vital.  There  is  no  evidence  that  they  produce  these  phenomena;  they  do 
not  appear  among  the  constituent  elements  of  any  psychical  state  or  act ;  they  cannot  be  found 
in  them  by  analysis ;  they  do  not  explain  in  the  least  the  original  capacity  to  produce  theiu 


§42.  IS   PSYCHOLOGY   A   SCIENCE  ?  5£ 

they  do  not  account  for  the  dependence  of  one  of  these  classes  of  states  upon  another,  as  of 
memory  upon  perception,  or  of  reasoning  upon  both.  These  cerebral  conditions  might  be  sup- 
posed to  exist,  without  the  occurrence  of  any  of  the  phenomena  in  question,  without  perception, 
memory,  or  reasoning.  The  nervous  system  might  perform  every  one  of  its  functions  withou/ 
a  single  psychical  result.  Its  direct  and  reflex  action  might  occur  in  every  possible  form  ;  fre- 
quent repetition  might  increase  the  flow  of  nervous  energy  in  certain  '  well-worn  paths,'  and 
the  parts  excited  might  grow  in  size  and  strength ;  new  combinations  of  nerve  cells  might 
secure  growth  to  the  brain,  both  in  mass  and  complexity,  without  the  occurrence  of  a  single 
act  of  perception,  memory,  reasoning,  or  mental  association,  or  without  any  kind  of  psychical 
growth  or  mental  development — in  short,  without  the  occurrence  of  a  single  one  of  the  phe- 
nomena which  these  causes  are  supposed  to  explain,  and  of  which  they  are  supposed  to  be  the 
scientific  equivalents. 

Moreover,  these  professed  explanations  have  neither  meaning  nor  application 

Th^y      suppose     except  as  they  suppose  the  mind  already  to  possess  a  knowledge  of  psychical 

ess-        phenomena  as  known  by  consciousness,  and  as  connected  by  certain  scientific 

relations  which  are  purely  psychical  in  their  origin  and  authority.  The  cere- 
bralist  talks,  like  every  other  man,  of  perceiving,  of  being  conscious,  of  remembering,  of 
induction,  and  of  reasoning,  as  though  he  understood  himself,  and  expects  to  be  understood  by 
others.  He  proposes,  as  problems  to  be  explained,  these  phenomena  as  dependent  on  and  con- 
nected with  one  another  in  the  experience  of  human  consciousness.  Of  these  facts  of  con- 
sciousness  he  continually  avails  himself,  to  give  meaning  and  significance  to  his  cerebral  analy- 
sis. In  short,  he  supposes  a  science  of  the  mind's  inner  experiences  which  he  proposes  to  sup. 
plement  by  facts  or  laws  of  sense-observation,  using  the  facts  to  be  explained  to  interpret  the 
facts  which  explain  them.  Should  he  attempt  to  use  the  nomenclature  of  his  own  science  in 
place  of  that  given  by  the  science  founded  on  consciousness,  he  would  fail  to  be  understood. 
The  one  cannot  be  a  substitute  or  an  equivalent  for  the  other.  The  excitement  of  a  nervous 
organism  does  not  and  never  can  be  made  to  signify  the  same  thing,  as  to  feel,  to  know,  or  to 
will ;  its  excitement  a  second  time  can  never  be  the  equivalent  of  to  imagine,  or  to  remem- 
ber ;  the  partial  excitement  of  many  nerves  or  nerve-products,  limiting  or  helping  one  another, 
can  never  signify,  to  reason.  Indeed,  the  very  phrase  cerebral  psychology  seems  to  be  self- 
contradictory  and  self-destructive.  Cerebral  can  relate  only  to  the  brain.  Psychology  would 
intimate  that  there  is  a  soul  which  is  other  than  the  brain.  Should  the  cerebralist  reply,  that 
the  appellation  is  none  of  his  own  choosing,  it  might  still  be  said  in  answer,  that,  by  whatever 
name  it  is  known,  cerebralism  professes  to  be  a  science  of  the  brain  and  its  functions,  both 
vital  and  psychical.  But  a  science,  supposes  a  knowing  agent,  and  a  knowing  agent  is  some- 
thing other  than  a  throbbing  brain ;  and  to  know  even  the  functions  of  the  brain,  especially 
after  a  scientific  method,  must  surely  be  something  more  than  for  the  brain  to  exercise  a  func- 
tion in  respect  to  itself  and  its  own  functions.  Such  a  conception  is  more  incredible  and 
inconceivable  than  the  conception,  which  is  so  often  stigmatized,  of  the  soul  as  conscious  of  ita 
own  operations.  A  soul  that  is  self-conscious  is  not  so  singular  as  a  brain  functionizing  about 
itself  and  its  own  being.  No  definition  of  self-consciousness  given  by  the  metaphysicians  can 
compare  in  absurdity  with  that  which  the  cerebralist  is  compelled  by  the  terms  of  his  system 
to  give  of  the  knowledge  which  is  the  subject-matter  of  his  own  science. 

§  42.  The  so-called  phrenologists  constitute  a  distinct  branch  of  the  cerebral 
The  phrenologi-  school,  if,  indeed,  their  doctrines  have  not  been  superseded  by  the  more  exact 

and  comprehensive  knowledge  of  the  brain,  on  which  the  cerebralists  build. 

To  the  claims  of  the  phrenologists  to  have  established  a  science  of  the  soul, 
the  following  objections  maj  be  urged :  1.  They  have  not  proved  that  the  protuberances  of 
the  brain,  or  the  cranium,  on  which  their  science  is  founded,  correspond  to  the  psychical 
powers  or  functions  which  it  is  claimed  they  decisively  indicate.  2.  The  classification  of  these 
rery  psychical  powers  which  they  adopt  is  illogical,  inasmuch  as  it  is  chargeable  with  not  i 


06  INTRODUCTION. 

few  cross  divisions.  3.  The  classifications  and  arrangements  of  the  whole  science  rest  for  then 
verification  on  the  knowledge  of  the  soul  which  is  given  by  consciousness.  It  requires  this 
knowledge  to  supplement  its  observations  of  the  cranium.  It  is  this  knowledge  which  fur- 
nishes all  the  facts  which  are  to  be  explained,  and  is  the  test  of  the  correctness  of  the  classifi 
cations.  Were  phrenology  established,  it  would  not  be  a  science  of  its  own  facts :  it  would 
serve  only  as  a  guide  in  the  use  of  certain  external  indications  as  explaining  the  psychical 
characteristics  of  individuals. 

The  question  may  properly  be  raised  at  this  point,  whether  the  brain  is  not 
In  what  sense  is  the  organ  of  the  soul,  and  whether  the  cerebralists  are  not  justified  in  treating 
soul's  organ  ?  it  as  such.  We  reply,  that  there  is  an  important  difference  between  asserting 

that  the  brain  is  the  substance  of  which  psychical  processes  are  the  functions, 
and  the  very  general  statement  that  the  brain  is  the  organ  of  the  soul.  This,  when  properly 
explicated,  would  seem  of  itself  to  imply  that  the  brain  is  one  substance  and  the  soul  ia 
another,  each  having  proper  features  and  functions  of  its  own.  To  say  that  the  soul,  so  long 
ts  it  exists  with  its  present  corporeal  environments,  uses  and  depends  upon  the  brain  as  its 
orgm  of  communication  with  the  material  world,  and  sympathizes  with  the  physical  condition 
>f  the  brain  in  its  capacity  to  act  with  effect,  is  to  say  no  more  than  the  truth.  This  depend- 
ence and  sympathy  may  hereafter  be  established  in  a  multitude  of  particulars  which  have  not 
yet  been  discovered.  The  brain  might  itself  be  subdivided  into  special  organs,  and  for  each 
of  vhese  a  separate  and  as  yet  unknown  function  might  be  ascertained.  The  relations  of  these 
organs  and  their  functions  to  the  powers  and  acts  of  the  soul  might  be  traced  out  with  sur- 
prising minuteness,  and  still  the  brain  would  be  no  more  nearly  proved  to  be  identical  with 
the  soul  itself. 

§  43.  The  Associational  Psychology  represents  still  another  theory  of  the 
1  he  Association-  science  of  the  soul.  It  is  founded,  as  its  name  imports,  upon  the  fact  or  law 
ahst  theory.  recognized  by  all  psychologists,  that  the  ideas  or  acts  of  the  soul  that  are 

often  united  tend  to  recall  one  another  more  readily.  This  law  is  applied  by 
tiiis  school  to  take  the  place  of  every  other  law  or  condition  of  psychical  activity,  and  to 
oxclude  every  other  power  or  capacity.  It  is  made  to  stand  in  the  place  of  the  so-called  facul- 
ties, and  even  to  explain  the  origin  of  all  necessary  and  intuitive  truths.  The  school  numbers 
wany  adherents,  among  whom  are  conspicuous  Hobbes,  Hume,  Hartley,  Bonnet,  James  Mill, 
John  Stuart  Mill,  Bain,  and  Herbert  Spencer.  Some  of  these  are  more  consistent  and  ex- 
treme in  their  conclusions  than  others,  but  all  may  be  fairly  said  to  adopt  the  association alist 
theory  in  its  principal  features.  These  common  features  are  the  following.  They  hold, 
1.  That  a  psychical  state  is  analogous  to  a  change  or  effect  in  a  material  object  as  being  a  sim- 
ple impression,  or  changed  condition  which  is  simple — not  complex,  as  is  claimed  by  those 
who  find  in  every  such  state  a  conscious  relation  to  the  ego.  They  hold,  also,  that  it  is  neces- 
sarily produced  by  its  cause,  condition,  or  object.  They  deny,  distinctly  or  impliedly,  the 
truth  that  every  state  of  the  soul  must  be  performed  by  the  conscious  ego,  and  that  in  many 
of  these  states  this  ego  is  consciously  active,  and  in  no  sense  passive.  2.  They  teach  that  every 
such  state  thus  necessarily  produced  and  passively  experienced,  tends  to  be  reproduced  with 
its  attendants.  3.  A  reproduced  state,  unless  in  some  way  reinforced,  as  by  similar  conditions, 
of  itself  tends  to  be  and  is  reproduced  with  an  energy  that  is  weaker  than  that  of  the  original. 
(Cf.  Hume,  Bain,  and  Spencer.)  4.  If  it  is  often  reproduced  and  is  reinforced  in  every  act,  it* 
energy  is  greatly  increased.  This  increased  energy  is  manifested  subjectively  by  its  stronger 
tendency  to  recur  again,  and  the  greater  vividness  with  which  the  object  is  presented  to  the 
aiind.  Herbert  Spencer  has  given  great  prominence  to  this  doctrine  in  the  special  application 
which  he  makes  of  the  repetition  of  acts  of  which  we  are  at  first  distinctly  and  perhaps  pain- 
fully conscious,  and  which  we  learn  to  perform  with  an  almost  mechanical  readiness.  He 
insists  that  the  facility  thus  acquired  becomes  literally  mechanical,  and  that  the  acts  in  ques- 
tion pass  entirely  out  of  the  donaiin  of  consciousness,  and  are  taken  up  by  the  passive  energies, 


§  43.  IS    PSYCHOLOGY   A   SCIENCE  ?  57 

first  of  tlie  associational  faculty,  and  then  of  the  brain  and  nerve-cells.  In  this  May  thej 
become  the  material  for  propagation,  through  transformations  of  the  nervous  substance  whicfc 
are  transmitted  from  one  generation  to  another.  A  few  physiologists  who  are  not  of  this  schoo* 
account  for  the  phenomena  in  question  by  what  they  call  processes  of  '  unconscious  cere- 
bration.' Every  activity  of  the  mind  not  occasioned  by  some  new  or  original  material  impres- 
sion, is  the  action  or  product  of  this  tendency  to  recurrent  action,  either  weakened  or  strength- 
ened in  whole  or  in  part.  Imagination  is  a  weakened  impression.  An  act  of  memoi'y  is  a 
somewhat  stronger  and  recurring  activity,  bringing  up  a  more  perfect  reproduction  of  the  past. 
Generalization  is  a  more  vigorous  revival  of  some  part  of  many  original  impressions,  which 
is  capable  of  being  suggested  by  each  of  these  originals  or  their  parts,  and  made  common  to 
them  all.  Judgment  and  induction  are  similar  experiences  of  partial  elements  of  more  widely 
ramified  impressions.  All  these  processes  are  reduced  to  the  more  vivid  experiences  which 
result  from  many  similar  impressions;  never  to  the  discernment  and  affirmation  of  similarity  in 
the  parts  of  each  of  the  objects  to  which  they  belong.  Similarity  itself,  as  the  ground  and 
motive  to  the  classification  and  interpretation  of  nature,  is  only  the  result  of  two  or  more  pas- 
sive impressions,  and  never  an  intelligent  cognition  or  judgment.  It  is  not  an  objective  fact  of 
relation  knowable  by  the  intellect,  but  a  subjective  sensation  or  impression  more  or  less  fre- 
quently recurring. 

The  belief  of  necessary  truths  or  fundamental  relations,  is  the  result  of  the 
Explanation  of  frequent  conjunction  of  similar  experiences  made  inseparable  by  repetition. 
necessary  truths.  Tnus>  the  reiatjon  Of  causation  is  resolved  by  Hume  into  the  customary  connec- 
tion of  ideas  or  objects.  Thus,  J.  Stuart  Mill  resolves  the  belief  in  any  neces- 
sary truths,  even  the  simplest  mathematical  postulates  or  axioms,  into  "  inseparable  associa- 
tion," and  gravely  suggests  that  their  opposites  would  be  and  appear  just  as  axiomatic  to  a 
community  differently  trained.  Thus,  Herbert  Spencer,  in  his  Principles  of  Psychology, 
resolves  our  d  priori  convictions  concerning  the  reality  of  space  and  time,  and  the  relations 
which  they  involve  (for  the  necessity  of  which,  as  realities,  he  contends,  against  Kant  and 
Hamilton),  into  the  invariable  conjunctions  which  first  created  a  persistent  tendency  to  recur- 
rence, which  tendency  was  fixed  and  confirmed  forever  by  being  propagated  through  countless 
generations  of  human  beings  till  the  inseparable  association  turns  out  to  be  a  necessary  and 
d  priori  truth,  of  which  it  is  impossible  even  to  conceive  the  negative. 

It  is  necessarily  implied  in  this  theory  that  it  dispenses  with  what  it  calls  the  scholastic 
doctrine  of  separate  faculties  of  the  soul.  This,  indeed,  is  its  pride  and  boast,  that  it  makea 
these  several  faculties  to  be  but  varied  forms  of  the  single  tendency  or  law  of  association. 

The  fundamental  defect,  the  irpwrov  iJ/et/Sos,  of  the  associational  school,  con- 
Error  of  the  as-  sists  in  this,  that  it  does  not  distinguish  between  those  activities  of  the  soul  by 
Lsts>  which,  so  to  speak,  objects  are  prepared  for  and  presented  to  the  soul  for  its 
varied  activities,  preeminently  that  of  knowledge,  and  the  activity  which  the 
soul  performs  with  respect  to  them  when  so  prepared  and  presented.  An  impression  on  the 
sensorium,  even  when  responded  to  by  reflex  nervous  activity,  is  not  the  act  of  knowledge  by 
tfhich  the  mind  distinguishes  the  object  from  itself  and  from  other  objects ;  nor  does  the  tendency 
thereby  created  to  its  repetition  explain  the  act  of  imagination  or  memory  with  respect  to  it 
when  represented  a  second  time.  A  similar  impression,  in  whole  or  in  part,  is  a  very  different 
thing  from  that  apprehension  of  a  whole  or  part  as  similar  which  is  essential  to  generalization 
and  reasoning  as  acts  of  knowledge.  The  constant  conjunction  of  two  ideas,  as  a  consequent  of 
which  the  one  will  always  suggest  the  other,  does  not  explain  the  relation  under  which  the  mind 
soimects  them  in  an  act  of  judgment ;  least  of  all  the  relation  by  which  it  joins  them  in  those 
oeliefs  which  are  necessary  and  intuitive,  as  are  those  which  concern  the  relations  of  space, 
time,  causation,  and  design. 

It  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  though  the  associational  school  is  plausibly  successful  in  its 
explanations  of  the  lower  activities  and  products  of  the  intellect  (chiefly,  however,  because 


58  INTIIUDUCTION.  $  43 

philosophers  as  v/ell  as  critics  overlook  the  intellectual  element  which  belongs  to  them),  thej 
tuii  most  signally  in  explaining  the  higher  operations.  J.  S.  Mill  supplements  the  functions  of 
the  associational  power  in  his  theory  of  reasoning  and  induction  by  resorting  to  an  '  expectation 
concerning  the  uniformity  of  nature,'  which  neither  association  nor  induction  can  account  for 
Bain  resorts  to  the  emotional  nature  to  explain  belief,  and  Herbert  Spencer  must  fall  back 
upon  the  growth  of  two  nerve-cells  into  one,  propagated  indefinitely  through  successive  genera- 
tions, to  account  for  a  priori  and  necessary  beliefs. 

The  associational  school  can  only  explain  the  higher  processes  and  products  of  the  mind 
by  explaining  them  away — by  making  them,  under  the  pressure  of  its  theory,  to  become  some- 
thing else  than  what  they  are.  Its  theories  and  explanations  are  plausible,  because  the  single 
principle  on  which  they  rest  is  so  nearly  allied  to  the  pervasive  law  of  attraction,  which  is  so 
potent  in  mechanical  and  chemical  philosophy.  The  extensive  and  ready  favor  with  which  they 
are  received  as  the  only  truly  scientific  theory  of  the  mind,  is  but  a  single  example  of  the  power 
of  materialistic  analogies  and  prepossessions  in  the  judgment  of  spiritual  facts  and  relations. 

The  associational  theory,  though  in  its  fundamental  principle  not  necessarily 
Usually  Mate-  materialistic,  has  been  uniformly  received  by  the  cerebralists,  especially  by  th<? 

cerebralists  of  the  modern  school.     The  doctrine  that  every  mental  process  is 

the  result  of  the  association  and  blending  of  ideas,  when  united  with  a  principle 
which  explains  association  by  the  conjunction  of  nerve-cells  into  nerve-growths,  and  the  consili- 
ence of  nerve  activities  by  the  increased  energy  of  nervous  stimuli,  commends  itself  as  demonstra- 
ble, reasonable,  and  true  to  all  those  who  find  in  the  movements  and  growths  of  the  brain  the  sci- 
entific explanation  of  psychical  processes.  Bonnet,  Hartley,  Bain,  and  Herbert  Spencer  in> 
pliedly,  are  eminent  examples  of  the  union  of  both  cerebralism  and  associationalism  in  the  same 
scientific  theory. 

That  the  associational  psychology  is  not  necessarily  materialistic,  is  proved 
Theory  of  Her-  by  the  theory  of  John  Frederic  Herbart  concerning  the  science  of  the  mind. 
bart*  Herbart  is  at  once  a  most  decided,  and,  it  might  be  said,  an  extreme  and  even 

bigoted  spiritualist,  and  also  as  extreme  an  associational ist,  in  the  consistent 
ind  thoroughgoing  use  which  he  makes  of  the  law  of  association.  No  psychologist  of  ancient 
or  modern  times  is  so  earnest  in  his  polemic  against  the  faculties  of  the  soul,  none  so  subtle  in 
his  attempt  to  resolve  all  psychical  phenomena  whatever,  by  the  positive  and  relative  tension 
of  ideas,  whether  present  or  absent ;  i.  e.,  whether  striving  to  retain  or  to  regain  their  footing 
within  the  bounds  or  over  the  threshold  of  consciousness.  Most  of  all,  none  is  so  daring  and 
persistent  in  the  effort  to  give  expression  to  these  forces  of  ideas  by  mathematical  formula?. 
His  mental  static  and  dynamic — i.  e.,  the  static  and  dynamic  of  ideas — are  all  compute'!  and 
expressed  by  mathematical  formulae.  Herbart,  though  an  extreme  spiritualist,  is  as  em  inent 
an  associationalist. 

The  principal  features  of  Herbart's  psychological  theory,  stated  without  the  metaphysical  doe-tones 
from  which  they  are  partially  supplemented  and  derived,  are  the  following.  The  soul  is  not  only  spu  itual, 
but  simple ;  BO  simple,  that  it  cannot  be  conceived  of  as  endowed  with  diverse  powers,  or  as  capable  of  any 
internal  actions,  reactions,  or  developments.  As  spiritual  it  can  hold  no  relations  to  space.  It  is  simply 
capable  of  af>ersistency  of  independent  life,  which  leads  it  to  resist  any  disturbance  or  action  from  with- 
out by  a  series  of  reactions  which  vary  according  to  the  objects  from  without  which  provoke  them. 
These  reactions  of  the  soul  are  ideas.  The  force  with  which  they  are  produced  is,  or  involves,  a  tendency 
to  maintain  their  being.  As  the  mind  is  disturbed  and  impinged  by  many  objects,  so  the  number  of  its 
reactions  or  tendencies  to  reactions,  is  very  great,  and  hence  the  soul  becomes  an  arena  for  the  actions  an3 
interactions  of  these  ideas,  dormant  or  revealed.  Of  these  reactions,  the  similar  aid  and  the  dissimilar 
hinder  one  another.  Precisely  here,  comes  into  play  the  associational  psychology,  involving  many  of  the 
inferences  to  which  it  is  applied  by  its  advocates  belonging  to  other  metaphysical  schools,  The  doctrine 
of  faculties  is  rejected.  The  conceptions  of  time  and  space  as  psychological  products,  are  the  resultants  ol 
many  past  images  arranged  around  the  present  experiences  as  central  nuclei,  aoco i  ding  to  tht  ir  various 
degrees  of  vividness  and  faintness  in  a  line  or  a  superficies,  the  vividness  and  faintness  being  determined 
by  the  helps  and  hindrances  of  other  states.  The  ego  of  self-consciousness  is  simply  a  complex  of  past 
mental  experiences  aa  recalled  by  memory  or  pictured  on  the  imagination,  that  is,  as  helped  or  hindered, 


§45.  IS   PSYCHOLOGY   A   SCIENCE?  5U 

more  or  less,  by  the  parts  and  wholes  of  other  states,  and  somehow  made  an  object  to  a  j resent  mental 
etate.  The  self  is  a  congeries  of  these  remembered  products  of  the  mind's  past  activity,  regarded  as  the 
manifestation  and  measure  of  the  soul's  energy  and  character.  Judgment  and  reasoning  are  accounted  foi 
as  by  the  English  associationalists,  except  that  Herbart  draws  on  his  logic  and  metaphysics  as  independent 
authorities  to  help  out  and  correct  his  psychology,  instead  of  developing,  after  the  mannei  of  the  English, 
his  logic  and  metaphysics  from  his  psychological  analyses.  Psychologically,  Herbart  is  an  associationalist 
in  the  principles  of  his  system.  His  system  is  in  part  adopted  by  J.  D.  Morell,  in  his  Introduction,  <o 
Ucnlal  Philosophy.  London,  1862. 

§  44.  The  Metaphysical,  or,  as  it  is  called  by  some,  the  Constructive  theory  of 
Metaphysical  or  the  science,  remains  to  be  noticed.  This  assumes  that  psychology  can  become 
logy.  a  science  only  as  it  is  expounded  in  the  spirit  of  a  system  of  speculative 

philosophy  which  is  first  assumed  or  proved  to  be  true,  and  which  must  be 
established  as  true,  before  the  study  of  the  mind  can  be  made  truly  scientific,  or  even  before 
it  can  begin.  There  is  a  truth  in  the  assumption,  that  every  special  science  is  only  so  far 
scientific  as  it  rests  upon  true  metaphysics.  But  there  is  an  important  difference  between 
the  correct  and  adjusted  statement  of  this  underlying  philosophy  in  a  perfected  system,  and 
the  recognition  of  these  truths  in  their  concrete  applications  without  the  aid  of  such  a  system. 
If  the  metaphysics  are  valid  and  true  to  nature,  they  must  be  followed  in  the  main  even  by 
the  man  who  has  not  formulated  their  principles  into  an  abstract  system.  One  cannot  easily 
deviate  from  them  if  he  is  earnest  in  his  desire  for  truth.  There  is  also  an  important  difference 
between  the  teacher  or  student  who  is  so  fixed  in  the  conviction  d  priori  that  his  philosophy 
is  true,  aa  to  be  incapable  of  observing  or  doing  justice  to  those  facts  which  are  not  required 
or  supported  by  it,  and  the  one  who  considers  and  records  facts  as  he  finds  them,  whether 
they  do  or  do  not  square  with  his  philosophy.  In  psychological  studies  the  temptation  is  par- 
ticularly strong  to  view  the  facts  in  the  light  of  some  preconceived  and  half-learned  philoso- 
phy ;  but  it  ought  for  this  very  reason  to  be  more  vigorously  resisted.  It  is  in  the  order  of 
nature  that  the  study  of  metaphysics  should  follow  after  the  study  of  the  mind,  inasmuch  as  it 
is  in  the  analysis  of  the  power  to  know,  that  we  are  supposed  first  to  discover  what  it  is  to 
know,  and  especially  what  are  the  objects  and  relations  which  are  essential  to  science ;  in  other 
words,  what  conceptions  and  relations  are  philosophically  valid  as  the  axioms  and  postulates 
of  scientific  knowledge. 

§  45.  The  philosophers  of  the  modern  German  schools  are,  as  is  well  known, 

Psychology  of  more  distinguished  as  philosophers  than  as  psychologists.  The  object  of 
the  German  v  J  J 

schools.  their  inquiries  has  been  too  often  to  construct  a  consistent  and  plausible  sys- 

tem of  metaphysical  philosophy,  rather  than  to  discover  or  expound  the  pro- 
cesses and  the  laws  of  the  human  soul  as  given  in  human  consciousness.  Their  writings 
abound  in  acute  and  valuable  psychological  observations  of  this  kind,  but  they  are  generally 
incidental  to  their  main  purpose.  Kant,  in  his  Critique  of  Pure  Reason,  has  given  an  almost 
complete  system  of  psychology,  but  it  is  incidental  to  the  discussion  of  his  main  inquiry,  '  Are 
synthetic  judgments  d  priori  possible  ?  '  One  does  not  need  to  read  Kant  with  extraordinary 
care  to  be  convinced  that  his  psychology  is  constructed  in  the  spirit  of  a  preconceived  theory, 
and  that,  true  to  nature  and  fact  as  he  was,  he  would  have  done  far  more  for  psychology  had 
he  made  it  the  chief  object  of  his  studies ;  and  yet  Kant  is  more  psychological  than  those  of  Hia 
successors  who  are  usually  named  as  the  coryphcei  of  German  philosophy.  Of  all  these  writers 
it  Li  emphatically  irue  that  their  attention  has  been  given  primarily  to  metaphysics,  and  only 
indirectly  to  psychology.  Their  disciples  have,  in  many  cases,  written  upon  psychology 
proper,  and  the  treatises  of  each  are,  as  might  be  expected,  composed  in  the  spirit  and  service 
of  the  philosophy  of  his  master.  Hegel  is,  perhaps,  the  only  one  who  professes  to  have  con- 
structed a  psychology  as  the  legitimate  outgrowth  or  logical  product  of  his  metaphysical 
system,  and  the  results  should  serve  as  a  decisive  warning  against  imitation.  In  this  system, 
the  existence,  the  nature,  the  powers,  the  operations,  and  the  products  of  the  soul  are  all  set 
forth  chiefly  so  as  to  illustrate  the  great  principle  of  his  metaphysical  system,  viz.,  the  develoo 


60  INTRODUCTION.  §  45 

meut  of  the  concept  through  the  force  of  the  necessary  movement  of  thought  into  all  the 
forms  of  existence  which  the  universe  of  matter  and  of  spirit  have  attained.  That  is  to  say, 
the  soul  is  conceived  to  be  just  what  it  ought  to  be,  according  to  the  ideal  of  this  logico- 
metaphysieal  system.  The  proof  that  it  is  such,  is  found  in  the  fact  that  it  is  rational  for  it 
to  be  so,  because  this  is  provided  in  the  dialectic  process  common  to  being  and  thought, 
There  is  little  necessity  that  there  should  be  any  consideration  of  facts  or  phenomena.  In- 
deed, facts  are  scarcely  considered  at  all,  but  only  the  metaphysical  relations  of  the  psychical 
powers  and  processes.  These  scientific  or  necessary  relations  are  assumed  to  have  been  pre- 
determined by  the  more  comprehensive  view  which  Philosophy  had  taken  of  the  laws  that  gov- 
ern the  evolution  of  the  universe.  This  being  fixed,  all  else  follows  of  course,  by  a  necessity 
which  is  both  natural  and  logical, — the  two  in  Hegel's  system  being  identical. 

So  far  as  Hegel  himself  is  concerned,  or  any  other  philosopher  who  assumes  to  have 
attained  so  comprehensive  a  view  of  the  system  of  the  universe,  it  may  be  legitimate  and 
natural  for  him  to  derive  from  it  the  science  of  the  soul  by  a  strictly  logical  process.  But 
even  his  success  would  not  compensate  for  the  failure  to  notice  and  describe  the  psychical 
fiicts  which  might  still  further  confirm  and  illustrate  the  metaphysical  system  which  claimed  to 
be  universally  applicable,  and  demonstrable  from  the  nature  of  thought.  If  it  be  supposed 
that  these  facts  were  completely  at  his  command,  and  that  they  all  harmonized  with  his  funda- 
mental philosophy,  it  cannot  be  assumed  that  they  are  equally  familiar  to  the  learner,  or  that 
they  are  known  by  him  adequately  at  all.  As  known  by  him  and  as  learned  by  him,  they 
ought  not  at  first  to  be  set  forth  as  illustrations  of  a  philosophical  system,  or  even  as  proofa 
of  its  truth  and  consistency.  They  should  be  traced  and  learned  in  the  cautious  and  pains- 
taking  way  of  induction,  till  they  carried  him  up  to  the  height  of  speculative  observation 
where  the  philosopher  stands,  and  from  which  he  constructs  his  psychology.  The  beginner  in 
psychology  must  begin  with  the  elements,  because  out  of  these  very  elements  he  must  evolve 
the  system  which  he  may  afterward  use  when  he  attempts  to  construct  the  soul  by  a  synthetic 
process.  But  he  may  not  begin  with  the  completed  system  itself,  because  in  so  doing  he  vio- 
lates the  psychological  order  of  acquisition,  which  requires  every  one  to  go  from  the  concrete 
upward  to  the  abstract,  and  to  find  for  himself,  under  wise  guidance,  the  general  and  remote, 
in  the  concrete  and  the  near. 

To  pursue  the  reversed  order,  is  to  weaken  the  certainty  of  knowledge,  as  well  as  to'  con 
fuse  and  embarrass  the  mind  of  the  student.  Such  an  error  of  method  is  certain  to  be 
revenged  on  speculative  philosophy  itself.  It  opens  the  way  for  the  most  fantastical  dogma- 
tism on  the  part  of  the  teacher ;  for,  as  soon  as  he  is  emancipated  from  the  necessity  of  justi- 
fying his  speculative  system  to  the  consciousness  of  his  learners  by  the  facts  of  inner  expe- 
rience, he  will  be  tempted  to  be  positive  when  he  is  not  certain,  and  to  be  fantastic  when  he  is 
neither  logical  nor  clear.  It  breeds  haziness  and  pretension  on  the  part  of  the  student.  In 
attempting  to  follow  a  guide  who  deviates  from  the  order  of  nature,  his  steps  cease  to  be 
confident  and  firm.  The  want  of  clear  insight  he  will  supply  by  pretension  and  conceit,  whicli 
%re  both  parent  and  offspring  of  credulity  and  dependence. 

No  maxirn  deserves  to  be  recorded  by  the  student  of  philosophy  in  letters  more  cleat 
and  bright  than  this :  *  The  man  who  seeks  to  enter  the  temple  of  Philosophy  by  any  other 
approach  than  the  vestibule  of  psychology,  can  never  penetrate  into  its  inner  sanctuary ;  for 
psychology  alone  leads  to  and  evolves  philosophical  truth,  even  though  it  is  itself  subordinate 
to  philosophy.  Moreover,  he  who  attempts  to  construct  psychology  by  the  aid  and  under  the 
direction  of  a  metaphysical  system,  contradicts  the  order  by  which  both  psychology  ard 
philosophy  are  developed  and  acquired.' 


THE  HUMAN  INTELLECT: 

ITS    FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND    FACULTIES 


A   PRELIMINARY   CHAPTER. 

WE  have  considered  the  soul  as  capable  of  various  functions  or  operations,  which  are  mam 
fested  to  consciousness  as  psychical  facts  or  phenomena.  We  have  defined  the  intellect 
to  be  the  soul  as  endowed  with  and  exercising  the  power  to  know.  We  now  proceed  to 
make  the  intellect  the  special  object  of  our  study.  In  other  words,  we  enter  upon  that 
special  division  of  psychology  which  is  concerned  with  the  capacities,  operations,  and 
laws  of  the  human  intellect. 

§  46.  The  distinctive  function  of  the  intellect  being  to  know, 
fined  what  is  we  at  once  inquire,  4  What  is  it,  for  the  soul  to  know  ? ' 

it  to  know?  _.  ,11 

Consciousness  has  already  taught  us  to  observe  ourselves  in 
the  act  of  knowing,  and  to  distinguish  this  condition  from  those  which  are 
coordinate  with  it,  viz.,  the  states  of  feeling  and  willing.  For  this  con- 
scious experience  there  can  be  no  substitute.  No  definition  or  description 
can  convey,  to  him  who  has  never  known,  the  conception  of  what  an  act  of 
knowledge  is.  All  definitions  and  descriptions  presuppose  that  the  person 
to  whom  they  are  addressed  can  understand  their  import  and  verify  their 
truth  by  referring  to  his  own  conscious  acts.  But  we  may  not  rest  in  this 
general  assent  to  the  reality,  nor  in  our  general  impressions  of  the  nature 
of  knowledge.  We  require  a  more  exact  determination  of  its  import  anO 
relations. 

The  nearer  and  more  attentive  consideration  of  knowledge  gives  w* 
the  following  propositions : 

1.  To  know,  is  an  operation  of  the  soul  acting  as  the  intel 
^ec* — an  °Perati°n  m  which  it  is  preeminently  active.  In 
knowing,  we  are  not  so  much  recipients  as  actors.  We  dc 
not  merely  submit  to  the  impressions  which  are  made  upon  the  senses  or 
the  mind  from  without.  Nor  are  we  the  passive  subjects  of  the  mechan- 
ical operations  of  ideas  already  acquired,  as  they  come  and  go  by  an  inde- 
pendent force  and  movement  of  their  own,  as  they  intrude,  break  upon  or 
elude  the  memory  and  fancy  in  seeming  caprice  or  wantonness.  We  do 
not  generalize,  reason,  or  believe,  according  as  certain  relations  do  or  do 
not  choose  to  suggest  themselves.  But  in  all  states  of  knowledge  the  souJ 


62  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §46 

itse  f  energizes  or  acts,  in  the  ways  or  methods  which  are  provided  for  by 
its  original  endowments. 

2.  The  intellect  exercises  its  capacity  to  know  under  certain 
^edTtk>n1sunder  conditions.  Like  every  other  agent  in  nature,  it  is  limited 

in  respect  to  the  mode,  energy,  and  results  of  its  action,  by 
the  occasions  and  circumstances  under  which  it  acts.  As  fire  cannot  burn 
without  fuel  to  consume,  as  water  cannot  wet  without  something  to 
moisten ;  or  better,  as  oxygen  cannot  produce  an  oxide  without  some  base 
with  which  to  combine,  so  the  intellect  cannot  know,  unless  there  is  some- 
thing to  be  known. 

Thus  the  intellect  cannot  perceive  a  color,  a  taste,  a  tree,  a  house,  when  these  objects  are 
not  presented  to  the  mind,  for  it  to  act  concerning  or  upon.  So,  too,  it  cannot  remember, 
unless  an  event  has  occurred  which  it  may  proceed  to  recall  and  recognize.  Nor  can  it  imagine 
or  believe,  without  certain  materials  or  data  with  or  from  which,  it  creates  or  infers.  While, 
on  the  one  hand,  the  intellect,  in  knowing,  must  act  or  operate  upon,  and  in  some  sense 
create,  its  products,  it  cannot  produce  results  at  its  will,  but  it  must  be  governed  by  the 
objects  which  are  furnished,  as  to  what  it  knows  and  as  to  how  it  shall  know  them. 

The  conditions  enumerated  are  objective  only.  There  are  also  conditions  which  are  sub- 
jective, as  the  mind's  capacity  to  know,  which  is  always  assumed  ;  its  disposition  for  present 
activity,  its  bodily  conditions  of  health  and  reason ;  also  certain  favoring  circumstances,  as 
absence  of  preoccupation;  and,  last  of  all,  the  direction  and  fixing  of  the  attention  to  the  so- 
called  objects. 

These  conditions  3.  The  objects  which  condition  the  acts  of  the  intellect  are 
ver°seJ.ec  Subfect"  diverse  in  their  character.  Some  are  presented  from  the 
jeKbjccte?  °  world  without :  such  are  the  objects  of  sense,  for  the  exist- 
ence of  which,  their  adaptation  to  the  sentient  organism,  and  their  com- 
ing within  the  range  or  reach  of  the  power  to  know,  the  soul  itself  may 
be  in  no  way  responsible.  Others  are  presented  from  within,  the  soul 
creating  by  its  own  activity  the  very  objects,  and  the  whole  of  the  objects, 
on  which  it  exerts  the  activity  of  knowing :  such  are  the  operations  of 
the  soul  itself,  in  the  various  forms  and  the  endless  variety  of  the  states 
of  knowledge,  feeling,  and  will,  all  of  which  are  apprehended,  as  objects, 
by  consciousness. 

Other  objects  are  the  products  or  results  of  precedent  acts  or  energies  of  the  soul,  as 
objects  of  sense  previously  perceived  and  waiting  to  be  remembered  ;  the  so-called  images  and 
pictures  once  present  and  seen,  but  now  absent  and  unseen.  There  are  also  the  conceptions  or 
notions  which  general  terms  represent  and  recall,  and  which  language  holds  ready  for  the 
intellect  to  understand  and  recognize:  these  are  the  contingent  and  necessary  relations  in 
objects  themselves,  which  must  be  supposed  really  to  exist,  in  order  to  be  known. 

It  is  manifest  from  this  enumeration  that  the  word  object  is  used  in 
two  widely  divergent  senses — either  as  the  external  or  material  object, 
the  object-object,  as  it  is  often  called,  and  which  may  be  explained  as  the 
object  eminently  objective;  and  the  subject-object,  i.  e.,  the  mental  object, 
or  the  object  created  by  the  mind's  own  energy.  The  adjectives  subjective 


§  47.  ITS    FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES.  65 

and  objective,  also,  follow  the  widest  or  most  generic  meaning  of  the  word 
object.  Objective  is  applied  to  whatever  the  mind  contemplates  as  an 
object,  whether  it  be  a  subject-object  or  an  object-object.  Every  relation 
which  such  an  object  holds  is  called  objective.  On  the  other  hand,  sub 
jective  is  applied  to  the  knowing  mind,  whether  it  is  conceived  as  appre- 
hending a  subject-object  or  an  object-object ;  a  material  object,  as  the  exist- 
ing moon,  or  the  moon  pictured  by  the  mind  for  the  mind's  eye.  Sub- 
jective is  also  applied  to  all  the  psychical  experiences  and  acts ;  to  the 
feeling  and  willing,  as  well  as  the  knowing  soul. 

The  process  §  4^'  4>  Inasmuc^  as  we  assume  that  the  soul  can  create 
objects  oi'knowf  objects  for  itself  to  know,  as  in  the  cases  already  referred  to 
"d?6-  of  consciousness  and  memory,  we  ought  carefully  to  distir 

guish  all  that  activity  of  the  soul  by  which  objects  are,  so  to  speak,  prt 
pared  for  the  mind's  cognition,  from  the  activity  consequent  thereto,  viz., 
the  special  activity  of  the  intellect  in  knowing.  For  example,  the  energy 
of  the  soul  in  what  is  called  the  association  of  ideas — by  which,  on  occa- 
sion of  the  presence  of  an  object  known,  another  object  presents  itself  in 
order  to  be  known — is  clearly  distinguishable  from  the  act  of  the  intellect 
in  apprehending  that  object  when  presented.  In  like  manner,  all  the  ante- 
cedent preparation  by  which  material  things  are  made  ready  to  be  known 
through  the  agency  of  the  spiritual  element  in  the  sensorium,  is  plainly 
diverse,  and  ought  to  be  distinguished  from  the  act  of  the  mind  in  per- 
ceiving the  object  when  thus  made  ready.  The  creative  energy  of  the 
intellect  in  the  construction  of  mathematical  conceptions,  as  well  as  in  the 
higher  acts  of  invention  and  discovery,  is  a  more  interesting  example  of 
this  peculiar  power. 

These  two  kinds  of  activity  are  so  intimately  connected,  that  they  seem  to  be  united  *nd 
to  blend  into  one.  They  have  not  been  distinguished  so  sharply  as  they  ought  to  be.  By 
many  writers  they  have  not  been  separated  at  all  in  the  analysis  of  knowledge.  It  is  obvious, 
however,  when  the  act  of  knowing  is  precisely  defined,  that  it  is  properly  distinguished  from  this 
work  of  preparation  and  the  powers  and  operations  which  it  involves.  The  advantage  of  thua 
separating  it  will  occur  to  every  one  who  follows  its  applications,  or  who  is  conversant  with  the 
too  common  want  of  precision  in  conceiving  and  defining  the  faculties  and  operations  of  the  soul. 

The  consideration  of  these  acts  or  processes  suggests  the  possibility  of  many  endowments  in  the  soul, 
which  though  psychical  in  their  nature,  are  not  fully  open  to  consciousness.  Of  these  there  are  two  classes, 
(1)  those  by  which  the  soul  cooperates  with  matter,  i.  e.,  living  matter,  in,  so  to  speak,  proviling  sense- 
objects,  and  (2)  those  in  which  it  acts  by  processes  peculiarly  psychical,  as  in  the  reproduction  to  imagina- 
tion and  memory  of  states  or  objects  previously  known.  The  first  are  sometimes  called  psycho-physical  in 
contrast  with  the  psychical. 

"We  observe  also,  that  these  acts  or  functions  of  preparation,  are  generally,  not  conscious  acts,  in  tn« 
senee  in  which  the  acts  of  knowledge  are.  Some  of  them  may  be  wholly  removed  from  consciousness,  as  if 
the  activity  by  which  the  soul  preserves  and  suggests  objects  once  known,  while  yet  these  very  acts  or 
operations  largely  depend  on  the  conscious  operations.  Some  of  these  may  be  entirely  removed  from  con- 
Bciousness,  as  the  physiological  or  psycho-physical  operations  which  conditionate  sense-perception.  Others 
may  be  almost  or  apparently  quite  within  the  range  of  conscious  observation,  though  performed  with  rapid 
and  spontaneous  exertion. 

They  are  all  properly  psychical  acts,  and  are  appropriately  treated  in  connection  with  those  activities 
with  which  consciousness  has  to  d« .  We  cannot  understand  these  activities  without  constant  reference  U 
them. 


64  THE    HUMA^   INTELLECT.  §48. 

Let  us  then  suppose  that  the  conditions  of  an  act  of  knowledge,  both  subjective,  objective 
and  psychical,  are  all  fulfilled.  We  are  prepared  to  inquire  what  is  involved  in  the  act  cf 
knowledge  that  supervenes. 

TO  know,  im-  §  48>  5<  To  know?  is  to  be  certain  that  something  is.  When 
tte  conditions  of  the  act  are  present,  the  act  occurs.  In  the 
act  of  knowing  it  is  involved  that  the  mind  should  be  cer- 
tain that  an  object  is.  Knowledge  and  being  are  correlative  to  one 
another.  There  must  be  being,  in  order  that  there  may  be  knowledge. 
There  may  be  being,  it  is  true,  which  is  not  known  by  any  created  intellect, 
but  there  can  be  no  knowledge,  which  is  not  the  knowledge  of  being.  It 
is  of  the  very  essence  of  knowledge  that  it  apprehends  or  cognizes  its 
object  to  be.  Subjectively  viewed,  to  know,  involves  certainty ;  objec- 
tively, it  requires  reality.  An  act  of  knowing,  in  which  there  is  no  cer- 
tainty in  the  agent,  and  no  reality  in  the  object,  is  impossible  in  conception 
and  in  fact. 

Here  we  must  distinguish  different  kinds  of  objects  and  different  kinds  of 
Beings  or  reali-  reality.  Objects  may  be  psychical  or  material.  They  may  be  formed  by  the 
their  kind.  '  mind  and  exist  for  the  mind  that  forms  them,  or  they  may  exist  in  fact  and 
in  space  for  all  minds,  and  yet  in  each  case  they  are  equally  objects.  Their 
reality  may  be  mental  and  internal,  or  material  and  external,  but  in  each  case  it  is  equally  <; 
reality.  The  thought  that  darts  into  the  fancy  and  is  gone  as  soon,  the  illusion  that  crosses 
the  brain  of  the  lunatic,  the  vision  that  frightens  the  ghost-seer,  the  spectrum  which  the 
camera  paints  on  the  screen,  the  reddened  landscape  seen  through  a  colored  lens,  the  yellow 
objects  which  the  jaundiced  vision  cannot  avoid  beholding,  each  as  really  exists  as  does  the 
matter  of  the  solid  earth  or  the  eternal  forces  of  the  cosmical  system. 

The  existence  of  one  of  these  objects  is  not  of  the  same  kind  with  that  of  the  other ; 
their  reality  is  not  precisely  the  same,  but  they  are  equally  existent  objects,  and,  so  far  as 
known,  are  known  really  to  be. 

It  is  true,  one  kind  of  existence  and  reality  is  not  as  important  to  us  as  is  the  other  ;  we 
dignify  one  class  as  real,  and  call  the  other  unreal.  We  make  one  kind  of  knowledge  to  indi- 
cate  another.  We  strive  to  look  through  the  shows  of  fancy  and  the  illusions  of  sense  to  the 
reality  of  things.  We  call  some  of  these  objects  realities,  and  others  shadows  and  unreal , 
but,  philosophically  speaking,  and  so  far  as  the  act  of  knowledge  is  concerned,  they  are  alike 
real  and  are  alike  known  to  be. 

The  word  being  is  sometimes  contrasted  with  phenomenon.  It  is  obvious  that  in  that  case 
it  is  not  used  in  the  sense  in  which  we  have  defined  it ;  i.  e.,  as  equivalent  to  a  knottabfe 
object.  When  used  in  such  a  contrast,  we  oppose  real,  permanant,  or  independent  beirg,  to 
phenomenal,  transient,  or  dependent  being.  Being,  as  we  use  it,  is  generic,  admitting1  thn  two 
species  of  real  and  phenomenal  being,  in  the  senses  explained  and  contrasted. 

We  often  err  in  making  one  kind  of  reality  indicate  another.  We  mistake  one  kind  of 
existence  for  another.  We  confound  mental  fancies  with  material  things.  We  think  an  air- 
drawn  dagger  will  pierce  us  to  the  heart.  We  believe  that  the  spirit  which  our  distracted 
phantasy  conjures  into  being,  has  veritable  flesh  and  bones.  But  mistakes  like  these,  so  fai 
from  proving  that  what  we  know  has  no  existence,  demonstrate  precisely  the  opposite.  For 
how  could  we  mistake  one  object  for  another,  if  the  first  object  did  not  exist  and  were  not 
known  to  be  ? 

We  do  not  err  in  not  knowing  something,  but  in  mistaking  it  for  something  which  it  ii 
not.  We  do  not  err  as  to  that  the  being  is,  but  as  to  what  it  is..  We  do  not  err  a.°  to  iu 


§49  ITS   FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIEb.  68 

bebgness  or  entity,  but  as  to  its  relations.     When  being  is  used  in  this  generic  sense,  truth  and 
error  are  only  possible  with  respect  to  relations,  as  explained  hereafter. 

This  point  being  established,  we  observe  : 

8  49.    6.  In  knowing,  we  apprehend  not  only  that  obiects 

Also  the  reality     '  .  ,      . 

of  their  reia-  exist,  but  also  that  they  exist  in  certain  relations  to  other 
objects,  one  or  more.  Hence  it  is  essential  to  the  definition 
of  knowledge  not  only  that  we  know  objects  as  existing,  but  that  we 
know  them  as  related.  We  cannot  know  even  two  thought-objects  as 
being,  without  also  knowing  that  the  one  is  not  the  other.  We  cannot 
notice  two  leaves,  without  knowing  that  they  are  alike  or  unlike  in  form, 
surface,  or  color.  We  cannot  observe  two  occurrences  without  referring 
them  to  the  same  or  different  causes,  etc.,  etc.  The  variety  of  relations  id 
too  great  to  be  enumerated  here.  We  desire  only  to  call  attention  to  tht> 
general  truth,  that  a  relation  is  discerned  in  every  act  of  knowledge. 

To  this  assertion  several  objections  may  arise.     It  may  be  admitted  that  w« 

discern  relations  in  many  acts  of  knowledge,  but  not  in  all.     Least  of  all,, 

it  may  be  contended,  does  it  enter  into  the  conception  of  knowledge  that  w* 

should  know  some  relation.     It  may  be  urged  that  the  logicians  distinguish 

simple-apprehension  from  judgment — simple-apprehension  being  defined  as  the  cognition  of 

an  object,  and  judgment  as  the  pronouncing  that  one  object  is  in  some  relation  to  another.    To 

this  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  these  same  logicians  usually  distinguish  the  objects  of  simple- 

apprehension  into  complex  and  incomplex,  the  pne  being  one  or  many  objects  as  apprehended' 

without,  and  the  other  the  same  as  apprehended  with,  or  in  some  relation ;  showing  by  theix 

very  definition  that  simple-apprehension  sometimes  admits  relations. 

It  may  be  urged  still  further,  that  many  psychologists  have  distinguished  knowledge  as 
perception,  consciousnesss,  memory,  and  imagination,  on  the  one  hand,  and  as  judgment  01- 
thought  on  the  other ;  the  first  class  of  acts  giving  being  of  different  kinds,  or  the  matter  of 
knowledge,  and  the  second  class  giving  its  forms  or  relations. 

On  the  other  hand  the  most  acute  and  discerning  have  not  failed  to  see  and  to  "onfes* 
The  truth  ad-  that  j  udgment,  even  though  it  is  distinguished  from  the  lower  kinds  of  knowledge,  mus< 
mitted  directly  accompany  them  all.  Dr.  Thomas  Reid  observes,  "  In  persons  come  to  years  of  under 
and  indirectly.  standing,  judgment  necessarily  accompanies  all  sensation,  perception  by  the  senses,  con 

sciousness  and  memory,  but  not  conception."  This  denial  of  judgment  to  conception 
[the  simple-apprehension  of  the  logician]  is  qualified  by  Sir  William  Hamilton  in  a  foot-note,  thus :  "  In  s« 
tar  as  there  can  be  consciousness,  there  must  be  judgment."— Hamilton's  ed.  of  Reid's  Works,  p.  414.  Reid  olj 
serves  again :  "  The  first  operation  [simple-apprehension]  may  be  exercised  without  the  other  two  [viz.  Judg- 
ment and  reasoning].  It  is  on  that  account  called  simple-apprehension,  that  is  apprehension  unaccompanied 
with  any  judgment  about  the  thing  apprehended."  Upon  this  Hamilton  remarks  in  another  foot-note  : 
"  This  is  not  correct ;  apprehension  is  as  impossible  without  judgment  as  judgment  is  impossible  without  ap- 
prehension. The  apprehension  of  a  thing  or  notion  is  only  realized  in  the  mental  affirmation  that  the 
concept  ideally  exists,  and  this  affirmation  is  a  judgment.  In  fact  all  consciousness  supposes  a  judgment  as 
all  consciousness  supposes  a  discrimination." — Ham.  Reid,  p.  2i3.  And  yet  Hamilton,  notwithstanding  the 
subtlety  of  these  criticisms,  and  the  frequency  of  the  concessions  which  they  contain,  when  he  comes  to  define 
the  Elaborative  Faculty,  Met.  Lectures,  20,  expressly  calls  it  the  Faculty  of  Relations,  committing  precisely 
the  same  oversight  into  which  Reid  had  fallen  with  respect  to  judgment,  both  in  the  conception  and  the  def- 
inition  of  the  faculty.  Even  Kant  himself,  who  would  seem  to  remand  all  knowledge  of  relations  to  the 
understanding,  and  deny  it  to  sense  and  consciousness,  yet  concedes  that  these  two  last  have  their  necessary 
forms  of  space,  time,  and  self, — space  and  time  being  the  forms  of  the  sensitivity,  and  the  synthetic  unity 
of  apperception  being  acknowledged  in  every  act  of  actual  knowledge.  But  these  forms  involve  relation! 
of  time  and  space  when  apulied  to  the  objects  known. 

5 


66  THE  HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  4&. 

It  may  also  be  urged  that,  although  it  may  be  true  that  whenever  two  objects 
No  objects  with-  are  known  by  a  single  act,  they  must  be  known  in  relation,  yet  it  is  not  so 
out  relations.  wjien  ^  okject  js  single.  Of  this  we  observe,  that  it  is  impossible  that  an 
object  should  be  known  singly  and  apart  from  every  other.  A  single  object 
must  be  known  by  some  agent,  and  it  cannot  be  known  by  that  agent  unless  the  object  is  dis. 
tinguished  from  the  agent,  and  from  his  act  in  knowing:  but  to  be  distinguished  is  'o  be  appte- 
henied  in  the  relation  of  diversity.  The  attention,  it  is  true,  may  not  be  strongly  fixed  on  the 
relation — it  may  seem  to  be  engrossed  by  the  object ;  but  the  diversity  cannot  be  unknown. 

But  there  is  scarcely  such  a  thing  supposable  as  a  single  object.  There  is  absolutely  no 
guch  thing  actually  existent  in  the  world  of  matter  or  of  mind.  Every  object  or  event  so- 
called  in  nature,  every  single  state  of  mind,  will  be  acknowledged,  when  thought  of,  to  be 
complex,  and  to  resolve  itself  before  the  attentive  eye  into  many  separable  elements  existing 
in  relations  to  each  other,  and  held  together  as  one  thing  by  the  cementing  force  of  these 
bonds.  An  apple,  an  orange,  a  pebble,  nay,  even  a  grain  of  sand,  consists  of  parts  not  a  few, 
united  into  one  perceived  whole.  A  mental  state,  however  simple,  is  in  its  essential 
nature  complex,  to  say  nothing  of  the  special  relations  of  time  and  quality  which  distinguish  it, 
from  every  other. 

Besides,  the  so-called  single  objects,  though  complex  in  reality,  are  rarely,  if  ever,  known 
or  thought  of  apart  from  one  another.  They  are  almost  universally  known  in  some  compan- 
ionship involving  a  relation. 

When  it  is  said  that  in  eveiy  act  of  knowledge  we  not  only  apprehend  that  objects  exist,  but  that  tney 
exist  in  some  relation,  it  is  not  intended  that  the  objects  are  first  known  to  be,  and  afterwards  known  in 
their  relations,  but  rather  that  when  they  are  known  to  be,  they  are  also  known  as  related. 

Least  of  all  is  it  true  that  objects  are  first  known  apart,  and  then  are  brought  together 
Existence  not  jn  oraer  that  they  may  be  discerned  as  related.  Nothing  can  be  farther  from  the  truth.— 
apart  from  rela-  ^ne  object  given  is  always  complex.  On  knowing  it,  we  look  at  it  apart  or  in  its  ele- 
tfons.  ments,  and  at  the  same  time  view  or  combine  these  elements  together.  The  bringing 

together  is  involved  in  the  taking  apart  The  discerning  the  parts  is  connected  with 
uniting  into  a  whole.  Thus,  in  the  example  already  given  of  a  mental  state,  we  find  i<  to  be  complex  in 
the  two-fold  relation  which  the  operation  bears  to  the  agent  and  the  object.  "We  do  not  fir.d  these  related 
elements  apart,  but  bound  together  in  the  one  mental  activity.  We  do  not  bring  them  together,  but  they 
are  together,  when  we  separate  and  afterwards  re-unite  them.  Again,  we  find  apart  or  separate  in  nature, 
a  hundred  men,  and  we  unite  them  into  one  as  a  group  or  line.  We  both  separate  in  thought  what  nature 
unites  in  fact,  and  unite  in  thought  what  nature  in  lact  divides. 

If  knowledge  in  its  very  nature  involves  the  apprehension  of  beings  as  related,  or  of  beings  in  their 
relations,  it  does  not  follow  that  all  knowledge  must  be  what  is  called  relative  knowledge.  Relative,  as 
contrasted  with  absolute  knowledge,  means  something  very  different  from  the  knowledge  of  beings  and  their 
relations,  or  even  the  knowledge  of  the  relations  of  beings.  Absolute  knowledge  is  consistent  with  tiie 
knowledge  of  the  relations,  or  rather  it  is  a  complete  and  independent  knowledge  of  all  possible  and  real 
relations.  §§  688,  696. 

But  what  is  a  relation  ?  It  is  natural  to  ask  this  question,  and  it  may  be  said  that  aii 
answer  is  needed  in  order  that  we  may  understand  what  it  is  to  know.  We  answer,  The  terra 
is  one  of  the  most  generic  or  abstract  terms  of  the  language,  and,  like  being,  is  incapable  of  a 
definition  by  a  term  more  generic  than  itself.  It  can  only  be  made  intelligible  by  examples  of 
relations  in  the  concrete.  Etymologically,  it  carries  us  back,  for  its  origin,  to  the  act  of  refer- 
ring, or  carrying  back.  To  refer,  is  to  connect  in  thought — to  know  or  think  two  objects  as 
united  together.  From  the  act  of  referring,  the  word  passed  over  to  the  effect  wrought  by  the 
act,  to  the  union  effected.  .  From  this  signification  the  transition  is  natural  to  another — to  that 
common  something  in  the  two  objects  by  which  the  mind  can  view  them  as  connected  into 
one.  This  is  sometimes  called  thefundamentum  relationis.  (Cf.  Hamilton,  Metaphysics,  App, 
v.  e :  also  Mill,  Logic,  B.  i.  c.  iii.  §  10.) 

To  determine  what  a  relation  is,  we  must  consult  the  power  of  knowledge  itself,  as  it  is 
manifested  in  its  acts  and  products.  This  question  is  closely  connected  with  other  inquiries  ; 
as,  How  many  original  relations,  or  fundamenta  relationis,  are  there,  and  how  are  these 


J    51.  ITS   FUNCTIONS,   DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES.  61 

applied  ?  To  answer  all  these  inquiries,  we  must  ask  subjectively,  What  are  the  several  rela- 
tions under  which  the  mind  connects  the  objects  which  it  knows  ?  and  objectively,  What  ar« 
the  bonds  under  which  they  are  connected  when  united  by  the  mind's  activity  ?  The  intellect 
itself  answers  our  questions  by  actually  connecting  objects  in  these  various  ways.  To  ask, 
What  is  it  to  know  ?  is  to  ask  what  the  mind  does  when  it  knows.  If  we  find  that,  whenever 
it  performs  this  act,  it  originates  these  relations  and  applies  them  to  beings  or  objects,  we  have 
received  the  only  answer  to  our  question  which  we  can  possibly  receive,  or  which  we  can  rea- 
Bonably  expect  or  desire. 

Knowledge  of  §  50.  *1  •  ^o  know,  involves  two  comprehensive  acts,  each 
Airiysii°r™nd  °f  which  corresponds  to  the  other — the  act  of  separation, 
or  resolving  objects  as  wholes  into  other  objects  which  com- 
pose them  as  parts,  and  the  act  of  uniting  or  combining  the  parts  into  their 
wholes.  These  acts  are  technically  termed  analysis  and  synthesis,  and 
they  are  present  in  every  form  and  variety  of  knowledge. 

In  analysis  the  mind  apprehends  separate  beings  or  entities.  In 
synthesis  it  connects  them  by  some  relation.  Analysis  and  synthesis 
accompany  one  another  in  almost  every  act  of  knowledge.  In  sense- 
perception  the  different  parts  of  material  objects  and  the  objects  them- 
selves, are  first  distinguished  and  then  united  under  relations  of  space  and 
time.  In  consciousness,  they  are  connected  as  coexistent,  successive,  or 
produced  by  the  active  ego.  In  imagination  they  are  separated  and  reunited 
under  these  and  additional  relations.  In  thought,  or  intelligence,  they  are 
again  divided,  to  be  re-combined  as  constituents  of  general  notions  or  con- 
ceptions, of  judgments,  arguments,  inferences,  and  systems.  Thought,  too, 
tends  from  lower  and  narrower  unities  to  those  which  are  higher  and 
broader,  bringing,  if  it  may,  all  knowledge  into  the  unity  of  common 
properties,  powers,  laws,  and  ends. 

objects  and  re-  §  51<  8'  ^ne  °kjects  which  the  mind  cognizes,  and  the  rela- 
md°nuinerOT8.nt  t*olis  un^er  which  they  are  known,  are  diverse  in  kind  as 
well  as  numerous  in  quantity.  There  are  objects  mental  and 
objects  material,  and  also  the  constituent  elements  of  each.  Among  mate- 
rial objects,  there  are  the  countless  varieties  of  things,  and  their  manifold 
sensible  elements  or  qualities.  Among  mental  objects,  there  are  different 
spiritual  states,  as  knowing,  feeling,  and  willing,  with  all  their  possible 
subordinate  varieties.  Of  relations,  there  are  relations  of  diversity,  of 
similarity,  of  number,  of  time,  of  space,  of  cause,  of  design,  etc.,  etc. 
This  variety  of  objects  and  relations  is  discerned  by  the  mind's  own 
power  to  know  ;  and  the  capacity  directly  to  discern  these  original  differ- 
ences  in  both  objects  and  relations  is  an  original  and  necessary  property 
of  the  faculty  of  knowledge. 

To  these  propositions  almost  every  person  will  at  first  give  unquestioning  assent.  On 
second  thought,  the  question  might  arise  whether  bdngness  must  not  be  the  same  in  every 
thing  known  ;  and,  if  so,  how  can  it  be  possible  that,  so  far  as  these  are  beings,  there  should 
be  different  kinds  of  beings  ?  This  question  may  be  answered  by  another,  whether  relation' 


68  THE    HUMA.N    LNTJULLECT.  §  52 

ship,  or  relatablenes&j  is  not  the  same  thing,  so  far  as  it  is  and  is  known  ?  and,  if  so,  how  is  it 
possible  that  there  should  be  several  kinds  of  it  ?  It  should  not  be  forgotten  nor  overlooked 
that  both  conceptions  are  generic,  and  denote  absiracta,  which  admit,  in  the  concrete,  diversity 
of  kinds  or  species.  (Cf.  §  391.) 


when  is  the  ro     §  52*    9<  ^e  Process  or  act  °?  knowledge  is  complete  when 
cess  of  knowi-    it  is  matured  into  a  product,  and  the  product  itself  becomes 

edge  complete  I 

an  object  to  the  mind's  future  knowing.  Sometimes  the 
whole  of  a  mental  state  becomes  such  a  product  ;  at  other  times  some  one 
element  of  a  single  mental  state  is  detached  from  the  act  that  produced  it, 
and  becomes  endowed,  so  to  speak,  with  a  separate  life.  This  product,  so 
far  as  it  exists,  exists  as  a  mental  transcript  or  representation  of  the  origi- 
nal, whether  that  original  were  a  subject-object  or  an  object-object,  and  is 
capable  of  being  recalled,  and  of  itself  recalling  the  original,  whether  it 
were  material  or  spiritual. 

The  term  product  must  of  course  be  interpreted  by  the  nature  of  the  producing  act.  The 
producing  act  is,  as  has  been  already  defined,  an  act  or  operation  of  apprehending  being,  in  a 
relation  or  in  relations.  When  a  being  or  object  —  one  or  more  —  is  so  apprehended  as  to  be 
recalled,  then  does  it  become  a  product  or  an  acquisition  in  the  sense  intended.  The  product 
of  the  knowing  operation  is  an  object  as  known  to  be.  That  a  certain  energy  of  the  operatioi 
is  essential  to  this  consequence  or  effect,  is  attested  by  experience.  How  it  is  possible  to  sep 
arate  a  part  of  a  mental  state  so  as  to  make  of  this,  and  this  alone,  a  retainable  or  represent 
able  product,  will  be  explained  hereafter. 

The  power  of  producing  such  reproducible  and  permanent  results  19 
essential  to  the  perfection  and  the  utility  of  the  act  of  knowing.  It  is  so 
essential,  that  upon  it  depend  the  simplest  acts  of  the  memory  and  the 
imagination,  without  which  the  mind  would  be  limited  to  the  transient 
present,  and  could  neither  gather  instruction  from  the  past,  nor  apply  wis- 
dom to  the  future.  The  higher  processes  by  which  man  explains  the  pow- 
ers and  laws  of  nature  would  otherwise  be  impossible,  and  the  capacity 
to  use  these  powers  and  to  apply  these  laws  in  any  practical  service  would 
be  excluded  altogether. 

The  knowledge  which  is  thus  separated  from  the  original  activity  u 
called  representative  knowledge,  with  reference  to  the  original  act  of 
acquiring,  and  mediate  or  represented  knowledge,  with  reference  to  the 
original  objects  known.  The  objects  thus  provided  are  called  acquired  or 
positive  knowledge.  The  power  to  acquire,  /.  e.  so  to  know  as  to  provide 
such  objects,  is  clearly  distinguishable  in  thought  from  the  power  to  know. 
In  fact,  the  power  to  acquire,  depends  on  the  perfection  and  energy  with 
which  we  know. 

In  all  activity,  it  is  not  easy  to  separate,  by  relations  of  time  or  by  conscious  notice,  the  producing  act 
from  the  produced  effect.  The  doing  becomes  a  deed,  the  carnation  an  effect,  by  transitions,  the  lines  and 
Bhadings  of  which  cannot  be  always  sharply  drawn.  This  is  preeminently  true  of  all  mental  activity  and 
production.  "We  need  not  be  embarrassed  by  this  plain  fact  of  experience,  or  by  the  distinctions  which  it 
Involves.  We  are  conscious  that  we  perceive  a  picture  or  a  countenance.  We  are  as  well  aware  that  w« 
ifterwards  recall  what  we  have  seen  That  which  we  recall,  is  the  product  of  our  intellectual  activity. 


§64.  ITS   FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES.  62 

The  analysis  of  the  product  enables  u?  to  understand  and  explain  the  elements  an  »  agencies  which 
make  up  the  process.  The  product  is  enshrined  in  language,  and  made  visible  and  tangible  in  action 
Very  often  its  existence  is  forced  upon  the  attention  by  its  prominence  in  the  sciences,  the  arts,  the  fuitb> 
and  manners  of  the  race.  Hence  the  study  of  all  these  is  often  a  most  important  aid  to  psychology. 

8  53.    10.  The  same  act  of  knowledge,  with  similar  objective 

The  act  diverse     '  - 

in  its  energy,  conditions,  may  be  performed  with  greater  or  less  energy. 
This  greater  or  less  energy  in  the  operation  of  knowing  is 
called  attention  ;  which  word,  as  its  etymology  suggests,  is  another  term 
for  tension  or  effort,  and  was  doubtless  first  transferred  to  the  spiritual 
operation  from  the  strained  condition  of  the  part  or  whole  of  the  bodily 
organism,  which  accompanies  or  follows  such  effort.  This  effort  is  mani- 
fested in  the  more  or  less  exclusive  and  complete  occupation  of  the  know- 
ing power  by  the  object  or  relation  that  is  to  be  known.  This  greater  or 
less  effort  of  attention  is  followed  by  the  greater  or  less  distinctness,  vivid- 
ness, and  completeness  in  the  objects  apprehended,  and  in  the  objects 
retained  among  the  mind's  permanent  possessions,  as  also  by  a  greater  or 
less  facility  in  exercising  a  similar  activity  a  second  time. 

This  energy  of  attention  may  be  directed  sometimes  to  more  and  sometimes  to  fewer  of 
the  parts  of  an  object,  or  of  the  constituting  elements  of  a  menial  state.  For  example,  when 
I  look  at  a  house,  a  horse,  or  a  tree,  I  may  be  so  absorbed  with  the  color  as  to  neglect  the 
form  and  dimensions  of  each  ;  or  my  attention  may  be  equally  divided  between  form,  dimen- 
sions, and  color  ;  or  I  may  be  so  occupied  with  a  part  or  the  whole  of  the  material  object,  ag 
to  neglect  my  own  subjective  condition,  whether  psychical  or  corporeal ;  or  (as  rarely  happens) 
I  may  bestow  my  attention  equally  on  both  conjoined.  The  part  or  the  whole  which  is  thus 
attended  to,  is  more  likely  to  be  separated  from  its  accompaniments  and  retained  for  future  use. 

8  54.    11.  Some  beings  and  relations  are  discerned  bv  the 

Borne        objects          .     ,        .  ,      „  ,  ,  mi  • 

more  easily  dis-    mind  with  far  greater  ease  than  others,     lo  know,  is,  as  has 

nerned  than  oth-     ,  TIT  ^  .,..,,,.  , 

«rs.  been  stated  already,  an  act  of  an  individual  being,  and  an 

act  which  admits  greater  or  less  energy  of  attention.  Now,  to  hold  the 
mind  to  certain  classes  of  objects  and  relations,  is  comparatively  easy, 
requires  little  or  no  exertion,  and  is  accomplished  with  spontaneous  facility. 
To  know  so  as  to  master  an  unfamiliar  object,  always  involves  effort  at  the 
first ;  and  a  ready  facility  can  only  be  attained  by  frequent  repetition. 

Why  or  liow  this  is  so,  we  need  not  here  explain.  The  causes  are  partly  logical,  partly 
psychological ;  i.  e.,  partly  explicable  by  the  nature  and  mutual  relations  of  the  objects  known, 
and  partly  explicable  by  the  emotional  or  active  susceptibilities.  The  greater  ease  or  difficulty  of 
applying  the  attention  to  different  classes  of  objects,  and  for  this  reason,  of  knowing  them  with 
more  or  less  complete  success,  can  be  very  largely  accounted  for  by  the  circumstance,  that  the 
appetites,  desires,  etc.,  render  possible  a  greater  or  less  interest  in  these  diverse  objects.  But 
why  a  greater  or  less  interest  should  be  spontaneously  awakened  in  one  rather  than  in  anothei 
in  its  turn,  can  only  be  explained  by  the  ordinances  of  nature  and  the  constitution  of  man. 
The  fact  is  known  by  universal  experience,  and  is  attested  by  universal  observation.  It  is 
natural,  and  soon  becomes  easy  to  all  men  to  attend  to  material  objects,  up  to  a  certain  degree 
of  minuteness.  It  is  comparatively  difficult  and  unnatural  to  consider  closely  the  experiences 
and  processes  of  the  so  fil.  It  is  easy  to  decide  upon  the  comparative  length  and  breadth  of 
two  corporeal  objects.  It  is  not  so  oasv  to  apprehend  the  parts  and  relations  of  a  mathemaU 


70  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  5ft, 

ical  theorem  or  of  a  logical  argument.  The  easier  and  more  natural  processes  are  pel  formed 
by  all  men.  The  more  difficult  and  less  natural  are  reserved  for  the  few.  For  facility  in  the 
one,  that  education  which  nature  furnishes  to  all,  is  amply  sufficient.  For  skill  and  readiness  i« 
the  other,  special  discipline  and  culture,  literally  great  pains-taking,  are  requisite. 


intellectual  de-  *        *  general  fact  or  law  of  the  intellectual  const!- 

tuti°n  explains  the  nature  of  intellectual  development  and 
the  possibility  of  intellectual  growth.  The  easier  and  spon- 
taneous processes  are  first  performed,  and  are  therefore  the  earliest  per- 
fected and  matured.  The  more  difficult  and  artificial  are  exercised  next  in 
order  ;  and  readiness  and  skill  in  using  them  is  reached  at  a  later  period, 
The  powers  of  sense  and  outward  observation  are  first  developed,  next 
those  of  memory  and  imagination,  and  last  of  all,  those  of  reflection, 
thought,  and  reason. 

As  it  is  with  the  intellectual  processes,  so  is  it  with  their  products. 
We  have  seen  how  the  products  are  related  to  the  processes  ;  that  as  the 
mental  processes  are  employed  and  perfected  with  energetic  attention,  so 
the  mental  products  are  evolved  in  completed  perfection,  as  naturally  and 
as  certainly  as  the  ripe  fruit  or  perfected  seed  drops  from  the  plant  or  tree 
which  has  rightly  elaborated  its  secret  processes.  It  follows,  that,  as  the 
powers  have  to  each  other  a  relation  of  natural  succession  and  of  neces- 
sary evolution,  so  their  products  are  related  in  an  order  of  mutual  depend- 
ence and  connection,  one  looking  back  and  the  other  forward.  Objects  of 
the  memory  and  the  imagination  have  no  meaning  and  no  reality,  except 
as  they  presuppose  and  require  objects  of  sense  and  consciousness.  Gen- 
eral conceptions  and  universal  truths  have  no  import  except  as  they  can  be 
applied  to,  and  be  illustrated  by,  individual  beings  or  events,  as  observed, 
remembered,  and  imagined.  In  this  way  there  comes  to  be  an  organic 
connection  among  the  products  of  the  intellect,  corresponding  to  the 
organic  relations  of  the  several  processes  out  of  which  they  grow.  This 
relation,  as  it  depends  on  the  development  of  the  soul  itself,  is  called 
psychological  ;  as  it  implies  antecedence  and  subsequence  of  time,  it  ia 
called  chronological.  Both  these  terms  are  indifferently  applied  to  the 
subjective  processes  and  the  objective  results  ;  but  as  the  former  is  promi 
nent  to  the  attention,  it  is  more  frequently  used. 

The  io  ical  reia-    §  56<    13*   Besides   tne   psychological  or  chronological  rela- 
tion of  processes    tion  of  the  powers  and  products  to  one  another,  there  is  still 

and  products.  \        . 

another,  which  is  more  important  and  fundamental,  and  that 
is  (heir  philosophical  or  logical  relation. 

We  use  one  kind  of  knowing  to  supplement  another,  and  often  not 
only  to  assist  and  supplement,  but  even  to  correct  its  operations  and 
results.  Thus  we  reason  to  conclusions  which  we  cannot  observe  by  the 
senses  or  experience  in  consciousness.  We  infer  results  which  we  cannot 
try  by  experiment,  and  we  predict  them  before  it  is  time  for  them  to  occur. 
We  correct  rash  conclusions,  by  looking  at  principles  and  laws.  We  deny 


§57,  ITS   FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES,  71 

assertiohs,  however  confident,  by  employing  arguments.  We  question  so- 
called  facts  because  they  do  not  square  with  an  established  theory. 

§  57.  We  set  up  a  broad  distinction  between  two  kinds  of 
philosophical  knowledge,  calling  the  one  empirical  and  the  other  philo* 

sophical,  the  one,  knowledge  by  observation,  and  the  other 
knoAvledge  by  principles  or  reasons.  We  should  remember,  when  we 
make  this  distinction,  that  in  the  two  there  is  but  one  and  the  same  mind 
which  knows ;  that  the  same  intellect  observes  and  reasons  upon  the  same 
subject-matter.  It  follows  that  the  same  mind  uses  two  ways  or  processes 
of  knowing,  and  that  these  assist  and  correct  each  other.  There  must, 
then,  be  a  relation  of  dependence  between  the  two.  The  one  must  DP 
subject  to  the  other,  in  the  mind's  own  judgment,  and  according  to  the 
ordinances  of  the  mind's  own  constitution.  In  other  words,  the  mind  that 
observes,  knows  that,  by  thinking,  it  can  correct  and  aid  its  own  observ- 
ing, and  that  the  one  method  of  knowing  has  a  certain  authority  over  the 
other.  Not  that  the  one  can  take  place  without  the  other,  or  that  the  one 
can  take  place  so  as  to  dispense  with  the  other.  This  is  contradicted  by 
the  facts  of  the  mind's  own  development.  It  is  refuted  by  the  psycho- 
logical relation  of  the  two  processes  which  we  have  just  considered.  But 
while  one  is  psychologically  necessary  to  the  other,  and  involved  in  the 
other,  the  one  is  subordinated  to  the  other  in  importance  and  trustwor- 
thiness. 

Thus,  when  we  analyze  a  substance,  we  determine  the  qualities  that  are  common  to  its 
class,  and  so  are  enabled  to  define  a  general  conception,  by  resolving  it  into  its  constituent  or 
necessary  elements.  We  account  for  or  explain  a  phenomenon  which  we  observe,  or  a  fact 
of  which  we  hear,  by  referring  to  the  causes  or  forces  by  which  it  was  produced ;  and  these  very 
causes  or  forces  we  interpret  still  further  by  the  laws  according  to  which  they  act ;  or  we  round 
off  and  complete  the  explanation  by  stating  the  adaptations  to  an  end  or  assumed  design. 

In  all  these  cases  we  assume  that,  to  know  by  generalizing,  by  classifying,  by  defining, 
and  by  assigning  causes  and  laws,  is  a  more  complete/a  more  satisfying,  and  a  more  trust 
worthy  method  of  knowing,  than  to  know  by  observation,  by  memory,  or  by  testimony. 

As  there  is  an  organic  relation  between  these  two  methods  of  know 
ing,  there  is  a  corresponding  relation  between  their  products.  This  is  tht 
relation  of  logical  dependence  or  of  rational  connection.  One  conception 
is  subordinate  to  another,  as  a  species  to  a  genus  ;  or  one  is  a  property  or 
attribute  of  another,  as  a  quality  of  a  substance  ;  or  one  is  contained  in 
another,  as  an  element  in  its  definition ;  or  is  given  as  a  reason  for  another, 
as  a  proof  for  an  assertion,  a  premise  for  a  conclusion,  a  datum  for  an 
induction,  or  a  means  to  an  end.  Many  conceptions  and  truths  are  also 
capable  of  being  united  in  mutual  relations  of  classification  and  explana 
tion,  as  constituents  of  a  system.  All  these  are  examples  of  logical  rela 
tions  in  mental  products. 

The  logical  relation!  of  the,  products  grow  out  of  the  philosophical  dependence  of  the 
orocesses  from  which  the  products  are  evolved.  But  inasmuch  as  the  products  are  expressed 


V2  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §59 

in  language,  and  are  made  objective  to  the  mind,  their  logical  and  objective  relations  are  more 
striking  and  prominent  than  the  subordination  of  the  acts  of  knowledge  to  one  another  when 
psychologically  considered.  In  other  words,  the  authority  of  logical  or  philosophical  concep- 
tions and  relations  is  in  the  last  analysis  to  be  found  in  the  constitution  of  the  rational  as  con- 
trasted with  the  empirical  faculties.  But  there  is  this  peculiarity  in  the  rational  faculty,  that  it 
asserts  for  itself  intellectual  authority  over  the  lower  powers,  by  asserting  for  its  products,  the 
place  of  criteria,  rules,  reasons,  and  principles  for  the  products  of  the  lower.  Hence  the 
objective  or  logical  relations  are  more  conspicuous  than  the  psychological  and  subjective. 

The  question  has  been  much  discussed,  whether  one  kind  of  knowledge  can  be  made  the 
judge  over  another,  and  especially  whether  one  species — the  rational — can  be  applied  or  sub 
Btituted  for  the  empirical,  or  observing ;  whether,  for  example,  we  ought  to  be  obliged  to  give 
masons  for  trusting  our  sense-perceptions  or  our  acts  of  memory.  We  have  already  said  that 
'his  would  be  impossible  if  it  were  required ;  because,  hi  order  to  reason,  we  must  first  (i.  e.t 
*>y  psychological  necessity)  perceive  and  remember.  But  we  may  confirm  our  sense-percep- 
*Ions  and  memories  by  logical  or  philosophical  grounds.  It  is  to  be  observed,  however,  that 
rhat  we  confirm  or  overthrow  in  the  sense-perception  or  memory  is  not  the  empirical,  but  the 
.logical  element ;  not  the  observation,  but  the  inference ;  not  the  being,  but  the  inferred  rela- 
»aon ;  not  that  something  is,  but  the  what  or  the  how  or  the  why  it  is. 

§  58.    14.  The  psychological  and  logical  order  do  not  alwavs 

These    relations     '  mi 

do  not  always  agree.  The  order  of  intellectual  growth  and  of  psycho- 
logical development  does  not  coincide  with  the  order  of 
logical  dependence  and  of  philosophical  arrangement.  That  which  is  last 
in  actual  attainment,  is  first  in  logical  importance.  The  truths  and  rela- 
tions which  the  mind  is  the  latest  and  the  slowest  to  develop  and  assent 
to,  may  be  those  which  are  fundamental  to  its  philosophical  system.  The 
propositions  which  are  found  as  the  results  of  its  severest  toil  and  the 
fruits  of  its  highest  discipline,  when  found,  are  made  the  principles,  the 
starting-points,  the  beginnings  of  its  reasonings  and  its  investigations. 
Hence  it  may  be  taken  as  a  maxim,  that  what  is  psychologically  last,  is 
*\rst  in  logic  and  in  reason. 

§  59.  15.  When  the  mind  has  attained  the  command  of  its 
nigner  faculties,  and  developed  the  familiar  principles  and 
rules  which  they  assume,  it  applies  them  to  a  double  use,  of 
explaining  and  testing  its  lower  faculties  and  knowledges,  and  of  trying 
and  judging  the  power  of  thought  itself.  Its  final  act  is  to  apply  them 
*n  judging  the  mind  itself,  and  preeminently  its  higher  powers,  for  the 
purpose  of  testing  their  trustworthiness  and  examining  their  authority. 
It  challenges  the  thinking  power,  asking  what  are  the  laws  of  its  acting, 
and  what  the  authority  of  its  results.  It  inquires  what  are  the  principles 
which  it  assumes,  the  relations  which  are  ultimate  and  unquestioned  as 
the  objects  and  means  of  its  knowing.  After  questioning  every  other 
Agent  in  the  universe,  and  judging  of  its  workings,  it  turns  its  scrutiny  in 
upon  itself,  to  test  the  processes  by  which  it  knows,  and  even  the  very 
rules  and  principles  which  it  imposes  upon  every  thing  besides,  and  ever 
upon  itself. 

This  is  the  critical  or  the  speculative  stage  of  the  soul's  development 


§00.  ITS   FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES.  78 

When  it  has  reached  this  stage  of  its  history,  it  has  completed  the  circle 
of  activity  for  which  its  constitution  provides.  It  has  performed  every 
variety  of  operation  or  function  which  is  possible  to  a  knowing  being. 

.  §  60.  The  consideration  of  the  three  orders  of  progress  which  have  been 

lectual  devel-  explained  in  the  acts  and  products  of  the  mind,  viz.,  the  psychological,  the 
growth!1  *  logical,  and  the  critical,  enables  us  to  trace  more  satisfactorily  the  growth  of 

the  mind  through  the  stages  of  its  normal  and  complete  development.  This 
development  begins  to  be  made  manifest  with  the  beginnings  of  attention.  Before  this,  its 
activities  are,  as  it  were,  rudimental  only.  There  is  the  feeble  and  confused  experience  of 
pleasurable  and  painful  sensations,  blind  instincts  impelling  to  movements  as  aimless ;  but  no 
definite  experience  of  good  or  evil,  and  no  distinct  knowledge  even  of  the  simplest  objects 
Of  this  state,  memory  preserves  no  recollection,  and  concerning  it,  imagination  has  no  materials 
out  of  which  to  shape  an  image  or  conception.  From  this  condition  the  mind  awakes  when 
some  object  attracts  and  holds  its  attention.  The  infant's  power  to  know  begins  to  be  devel- 
oped when  it  begins  to  attend.  The  idiot  is  awakened  from  its  imbruted  life  by  the  patient 
appliances  which  invention,  stimulated  by  love,  employs  to  fix  the  eye  and  hold  the  mind.  As 
soon  as  the  idiot  and  the  infant  begin  to  notice,  the  vacant  countenance  for  the  first  time 
assumes  the  expression  of  intelligence,  and  is  lighted  with  the  gleaming  dawn  of  intellectual 
activity.  Attention  gives  discrimination,  and  discrimination  implies  objects  discriminated. 
The  first  objects  distinguished  are  objects  of  sense.  It  is  in  the  physical  world  that  the  soul 
lives  for  the  earliest  years  of  its  activity ;  it  is  with  this  world  that  it  is  occupied  and  absorbed. 
The  sensible  objects  that  are  first  mastered  are  those  which  relate  to  its  wants,  and  generally, 
BO  far  only  as  they  are  related  to  these  wants ;  first  its  appetites,  then  its  affections  and  desires. 
With  the  discernment  of  these  objects,  in  their  relation  to  these  sensibilities  and  desires, 
begins  also  the  direction  of  the  active  powers  by  intelligence.  The  sensations  and  feelings  are 
referred  to  definite  objects,  they  are  restrained  by  discipline  and  habit,  they  are  fixed  upon  one 
or  another  as  an  aim  or  goal  of  effort.  The  will  must  also  come  in,  to  elevate  or  degrade  tho 
affections  in  their  moral  life. 

But  though  the  attention  is  at  first  chiefly  occupied  with  sensible  objects,  and  these  promi- 
nently in  their  relations  to  the  sensibilities  and  the  practical  wants,  it  is  not  wholly  neglectful  of 
the  psychical  operations  and  the  psychical  self.  At  a  very  early  period  the  body  is  distinguished 
from  the  material  world  of  which  it  forms  a  part,  and  the  soul  begins  to  be  apprehended  as 
diverse  from  the  body,  as  soon  as  the  purely*  psychical  emotions,  as  the  '  ove  of  power  and  sym- 
pathy, or  the  irascible  passions,  are  vividly  experienced.  Though  t  ic  phenomena  of  con- 
sciousness, as  distinguished  from  the  phenomena  of  sense,  are  not  so  distinctly  attended  to  as 
to  be  separately  named  or  familiarly  spoken  of,  yet  a  real  apprehension  of  the  soul  as  a  special 
energy,  capable  of  various  psychical  activities  and  the  source  of  most  important  experiences, 
must  very  early  be  combined  with  the  more  forcibly  discriminated  apprehensions  of  sense. 

As  fast  as  the  attention  masters  distinct  objects,  it  must  separate  them  into  separable  ideaa 
or  images,  which  are  henceforth  at  the  service  of  the  imagination  and  the  memory.  Thest 
reappear  in  the  occasional  dream-life  that  begins  to  disturb  what  was  hitherto  the  animal  sleep 
of  the  infant.  Memory  begins  to  recall  past  experiences  of  knowledge  and  feeling.  Recog- 
nition finds  old  and  familiar  acquaintances  in  the  objects  seen  a  second  time.  At  a  later 
period,  imagination  begins  to  imitate  the  actions  and  occupations  of  older  persons,  and  fur- 
nishes endless  and  varied  playwork  for  childhood,  in  the  busy  constructions  of  the  never- 
wearied  fancy ;  while  it  irradiates  the  emotional  life  with  perpetual  and  inextinguishable  sun- 
ihine. 

Slowly,  the  rudiments  of  thinking,  or  the  rational  processes,  begin  to  be  learned  and  prac- 
tised. The  attention  not  only  discriminates,  but  compares.  As  it  compares,  it  discerns  like- 
tosses  and  differci.ces  in  qualities  and  relations.  These,  it  thinks  apart  from  the  individua 


74  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §01. 

objects  to  which  they  pertain.  It  groups  and  arranges,  under  the  genera  conceptions  thxu 
formed,  the  individuals  and  species  to  which  they  belong.  To  these  activities  language  fur 
Dishes  its  stimulus  and  lends  its  aid.  Inasmuch  as  there  can  be  but  a  limited  language  without 
generalization,  the  infant  or  child  is  forced  to  think,  by  the  multitude  of  \\ords  whicv>  catch  its 
ear  and  force  themselves  upon  its  attention ;  each  representing  the  previous  thinking  of  other 
men,  and  even  of  other  generations.  But  generalization  is  at  best  but  a  slow  process,  and  th* 
ttnnd  at  first  does  as  little  as  it  can,  entering  into  the  meaning  of  words  only  just  deeply 
enough  to  use  them  as  instruments  of  its  convenience  or  pleasure,  and  classifying  and  arrang- 
ing  the  objects  of  matter  and  of  spirit  only  so  far  as  is  requisite  for  its  immediate  purposes. 

With  classifying,  are  intimately  allied  the  higher  acts  of  tracing  effects  to  causes  and  illus- 
trating causes  by  effects.  Then,  inductions  are  made  by  interpreting  similar  qualities  and 
causes,  as  exhibited  in  experience  and  elicited  by  experiments.  The  mind  becomes  possessed 
of  principles  and  rules,  which  it  applies  in  deductions  both  to  prove  and  explain.  The  powers 
and  forces  of  matter  and  spirit  begin  to  be  discerned,  as  the  result  of  induction  and  deduction 
combined.  The  relations  of  these  powers  to  their  conditions,  and  to  one  another,  as  well  as  to 
motion,  time,  and  space,  begin  to  be  fixed  and  definitely  stated,  and  the  laws  of  matter  and  of 
spirit  are  ascertained  in  a  wider  or  more  limited  range  and  application.  Science  arranges  all 
beings  and  all  events  into  the  order  of  completed  systems,  by  means  of  all  the  processes  of 
thought ;  and  the  whole  world  of  nature  is  recast  into  a  new  spiritual  structure,  under  the  rela- 
tions by  which  thought  decomposes  and  recombines  its  individual  beings  and  events,  as  pre- 
sented to  observation  under  the  relations  of  space  and  time.  Moreover,  adaptation  and  design 
are  seen  to  shoot  golden  threads  of  light  and  order  through  the  warp  and  woof  of  that  other- 
wise pale  and  lifeless  system  of  nature,  which  science  reconstructs  out  of  blind  forces  and  fixed 
mechanical  laws.  The  originating  and  intelligent  intellect  of  the  Eternal  Creator  and  Designer 
is  reached,  as  the  first  assumption  and  the  last  result  of  scientific  thought. 

Last  of  all,  thought  turns  back  upon  itself,  and  critically  analyzes  all  its  knowledge,  and  its 
very  power  to  know.  It  inquires  into  and  scrutinizes  its  acquisitions  and  its  assumptions,  and 
challenges  its  own  confidence  in  its  most  familiar  processes  and  beliefs.  It  seeks  to  justify  to 
itself  its  acquired  knowledge,  its  science,  and  its  faith,  by  retracing,  under  the  guidance  of 
logical  relations,  every  step  it  has  taken,  and  every  stage  through  which  it  has  passed  hi  itd 
development  and  growth.  It  analyzes  to  the  utmost  minuteness,  and  abstracts  with  the  ex- 
tremest  generality,  till  it  would  seem  to  destroy  the  vitality  of  the  thinking  agent  by  the  keen 
ness  and  refinement  of  its  dissections.  It  lays  bare  the  necessary  assumptions,  the  primary  and 
universal  relations,  which  are  acknowledged  and  acted  upon  in  all  observation,  in  all  science, 
and  in  all  faith.  It  returns  home  again  from  the  unnatural  course  of  its  speculative  criticism, 
and  the  constrained  attitude  of  its  critical  and  perhaps  sceptical  inquiries,  t~>  confide  a  second 
time  in  the  knowledge  and  the  faith  which  it  could  not  but  acquire  and  trust  in  its  progressive 
synthesis,  and  which  it  now  has  learned  to  vindicate  by  its  retrogressive  analysis. 

These  critical  and  speculative  processes  of  thought  are  reserved  for  but  few  of  the  race  to 
prosecute.  They  are,  however,  the  normal  and  the  necessary  consummation  of  the  completed 
growth  of  the  fully  developed  man. 

§  61.  The  consideration  of  the  development  and  growth  of  the  intellect  fur- 
Order  and  rules  nishes  the  only  true  principles  by  which  to  regulate  the  culture  of  the  intel- 
cnlture.  lect,  and  to  arrange  the  order  in  which  the  different  branches  of  knowledge 

should  be  studied. 

The  studies  which  should  be  first  pursued  are  those  which  require  and  discipline  the 
powers  of  observation  and  acquisition,  and  which  involve  imagination  and  memory,  in  con- 
trast with  those  which  demand  severe  efforts  and  trained  habits  of  thought.  Inasmuch,  also, 
as  material  objects  are  apprehended  and  mastered  in  early  life  with  far  greater  ease  and  suc- 
cess than  the  acts  and  states  of  the  spirit,  objective  and  material  studies  should  have  almost 
the  exclusive  precedence.  The  capacity  of  exact  and  discriminating  perception,  and  of  clear 
and  retentive  memory,  should  be  developed  as  largely  as  possible.  The  imagination,  hi  ail  itf 


§  62.  ITS   FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES.  7£ 

forms,  should  be  directed  and  elevated — we  do  not  say  stimulated,  because,  in  the  cuse  of  most 
children,  its  activity  is  never-tiring,  whether  they  be  at  study,  work,  or  play. 

We  do  not  say,  cultivate  perception,  memory,  and  fancy,  to  the  exclusion  or  repression 
of  thought,  for  this  is  impossible.  These  powers,  if  exercised  by  human  beings,  must  be 
interpenetrated  by  thought.  If  wisely  cultivated  by  studies  properly  arranged,  they  will  neces- 
sarily involve  discrimination,  comparison,  and  explanation.  To  teach  pure  observation,  or  the 
mastery  of  objects  or  words,  without  classification  and  interpretation,  is  to  be  ignorant  even  to 
simple  stupidity.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  to  stimulate  the  thought-processes  to  unnatural  and 
prematurely  painful  efforts,  is  to  do  violence  to  the  laws  which  nature  has  written  in  the  con- 
stitution of  the  intellect.  Even  thought  and  reflection  teach  us  that,  before  the  processes  of 
thought  can  be  applied,  materials  must  be  gathered  in  large  abundance ;  and  to  provide  for 
these,  Nature  has  made  acquisition  and  memory  easy  and  spontaneous  for  childhood,  and  rear 
Boning  and  science  difficult  and  unnatural. 

The  study  of  language  should  be  prosecuted  in  childhood,  as  it  is,  in  fact,  in  the  acquisi 
tion  of  the  mother-tongue.  In  the  acquisition  of  other  languages  the  methods  by  which  the 
vernacular  is  learned  should  be  followed  as  far  as  is  possible.  Grammar,  so  far  as  it  is  re- 
quired, should  be  simple,  plain,  and  practical.  Its  theories  should  be  kept  in  the  background, 
its  terminology  and  principles  should  be  the  reverse  of  the  abstract.  The  contrasts  and  com- 
parisons involved  between  the  strange  and  the  familiar,  will  stimulate  and  guide  to  the  first 
beginnings  of  reflective  grammar.  The  memory  for  words  should  be  exercised  and  stimulated. 
Choice  tales,  poems — narrative  and  lyric,  should  be  learned  for  recitation.  Natural  history  in 
all  its  branches,  as  contrasted  with  the  sciences  of  nature  or  scientific  physics,  should  be  mas- 
tered  with  the  objects  before  the  eye — flowers,  minerals,  shells,  birds,  and  beasts.  These 
studies  should  all  be  mastered  in  the  springtime  of  life,  when  the  tastes  are  simple,  the  heart 
is  fresh,  and  the  eye  is  sharp  and  clear.  The  facts  of  history  and  geography  should  be  fixed 
by  repetition  and  stored  away  in  order. 

But  science  of  every  kind,  whether  of  language,  of  nature,  of  the  soul,  or  of  God,  as 
science,  should  not  be  prematurely  taught.  For  the  consequence  is,  either  disgust  and  hostility 
to  all  study  on  the  one  hand,  or,  on  the  other,  superficial  thinking,  presumptuous  conceit,  and, 
worst  of  all,  sated  curiosity. 

The  law  of  intellectual  progress  involves  effort  and  discipline  severely  imposed  and  con- 
stantly maintained,  but  the  effort  and  discipline  should  follow  the  guidance  of  nature. 


Princi  lesof  §  ®^'  ^e  consideration  of  the  nature  and  the  development 
3lowersinof  the  °^  knowledge  teaches  on  what  principles  we  may  divide  the 
intellect.  powers  of  the  intellect,  and  what  is  the  most  scientific 

ground  of  classifying  them. 

In  assigning  different  faculties  to  the  intellect,  we  do  not  divide  it  into 
separable  parts  or  organs.  Such  a  division  is  less  conceivable  of  the  soul's 
power  to  know,  than  it  is  of  its  entire  conscious  activity.  When  we  say 
that  the  intellect  has  faculties,  we  mean  only  that  the  soul,  acting  as  the 
intellect,  acts  under  certain  conditions  in  clearly  distinguishable  operations 
and  to  definite  and  determinable  results  or  products.  The  consideration 
of  the  soul's  development  determines  the  conditions  of  these  faculties. 
The  consideration  of  the  logical  relation  of  the  products  assigns  to  these 
faculties  their  relative  authority  and  importance. 

In  tracing  the  development  of  the  intellectual  powers  in  their  succes- 
sion, we  do  not  exclude  the  co-action  of  the  other  so-called  faculties  of  the 


76  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §62 

soul,  as  of  feeling  and  will.  Their  presence  and  agency  nave  already  been 
recognized  with  sufficient  prominence. 

Ndr  do  we  deny  or  overlook  the  truth,  that  the  several  powers  of  the 
intellect  act  together  in  the  earlier  stages  of  its  growth,  and  in  both  the 
earlier  and  later  periods  of  its  history  both  aid  and  direct  one  another. 
The  action  of  a  single  power  of  the  intellect  does  not  exclude  the  co-ac- 
tion of  the  other  powers.  Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  to  be  remem- 
bered, that  as  the  energy  of  the  whole  soul  is  so  far  limited  that  one 
psychical  state  is . preeminently  a  state  of  feeling,  another  intellectual,  and 
another  voluntary,  so,  in  the  intellectual  activities,  one  is  likely  to  be  pre- 
dominantly an  act  of  sense  rather  than  an  act  of  memory. 

When  it  is  said  that  one  power,  as  defined,  is,  in  the  order  of  time  and 
growth,  developed  sooner  than  another,  it  is  not  intended  that  each  lower 
power  is  completely  or  largely  matured  before  the  other  and  higher  is 
used  at  all,  or  that  distinctly  traced  boundary  lines  mark  off  the  several 
stages  of  the  mind's  development.  This  would  involve  the  absurdity  of 
teaching  that  the  child  perceives  with  the  senses  for  a  long  time  before  it 
begins  to  remember,  and  that  it  remembers  and  imagines  for  another  long 
period,  before  it  generalizes  and  explains.  What  is  asserted  is,  that  sense 
must  begin  before  memory  and  thought  are  possible,  and  that,  as  a  power, 
it  is  perfected  before  thought  has  reached  its  consummation. 

Moreover,  it  will  be  found  to  be  true  in  fact,  that  many  acts  which  we 
call  acts  of  sense-perception  are  largely  intermingled  with  acts  of  repre- 
sentation and  thought  (§  166).  It  will  also  be  found  to  be  true  that  acts 
of  memory  recall  past  objects  under  the  laws  of  association  which  thought 
makes  possible  (§  268)  ;  while  imagination,  in  which  thought  is  not  largely 
conspicuous,  is  scarcely  worthy  the  name  (§  222). 

These  cautions  being  premised,  we  observe  that  the  powers  of  the 
intellect  are  clearly  distinguishable  by  the  order  of  their  development  ana 
application,  as  manifested  in  the  character  and  relation  of  t/ieir  products. 
Each  faculty  is  distinguished  by  the  conditions  and  results  of  its  acting. 
It  is  shown  to  be  a  peculiar  power,  by  requiring  a  certain  opportunity  or 
means  of  acting,  and  by  producing  certain  results. 

We  have  shown  already  that  the  products  or  objects  of  the  mind's  knowing  are  determined 
by  the  kind  of  its  acting,  and  grow  out  of  this  acting  as  its  natural  result.  The  several 
products  or  objects  of  knowledge  most  clearly  distinguish  the  kinds  and  capacities  of  knowing, 
because  these,  in  a  sense,  are  permanent,  while  the  act  that  produces  them  is  evanescent,  no 
sooner  beginning  than  it  is  done.  The  product  is  preserved  in  language,  and  represented  by 
^vords  and  propositions.  We  do  not  deny  that  the  several  modes  of  knowing  are  distinguish- 
able from  one  another  in  conscious  experience.  It  is  certain  that  to  each  is  assigned  a  special 
"sxcitement  of  feeling.  The  perceptions  of  sense  give  a  pleasure  or  pain  which  is  distinguish- 
able from  those  of  remembering  and  imagination,  and  all  these  processes  differ  in  this  particu- 
lar from  the  activities  of  thought.  But  it  is  the  nature  of  the  objects  or  products  of  these 
activities  which  furnishes  the  most  distinct  and  the  most  easily  applied  criterion.  These,  witli 


§64.  ITS    FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES.  7t 

the  as  clear.y  recognizable  conditions  of  the  mind's  different  ways  of  actingj  may  be  taken  at 
the  ground  jf  our  definition  and  division  of  the  faculties  of  the  intellect. 

§  63.  The  leading  faculties  of  the  intellect  are  three :  Tin 
Ferated8  enu"  Pr^s^^a^ve')  or  observing  faculty  /  the  representative,  or  ere* 

ative  faculty  /  the  thinking,  or  the  generalizing  faculty. 
More  briefly,  the  faculty  of  experience,  the  faculty  of  representation,  and 
the  faculty  of  intelligence.  Each  of  these  has  its  place  in  the  order  of 
intellectual  growth  and  development.  Each  has  its  appropriate  products 
or  objects.  Each  acts  under  certain  conditions  or  laws. 

Each  of  these  leading  faculties  is  subdivided  into  subordinate  powers, 
which  are  distinguishable  from  one  another  in  like  manner  with  their  pri- 
maries. 

§  64.    I.  The  presentative  faculty,  or  the  faculty  of  acquv- 
e    sition  and  experience,  is  subdivided  into  sense-perception  an<\ 

consciousness ;  or,  as  they  are  sometimes  called,  the  outex 
and  the  inner  sense. 

In  the  order  of  the  mind's  development  these  are  exercised  first  and 
earliest  of  all.  The  intellect  begins  its  activity  with  observing  objects  of 
sense.  Closely  connected  with  this  is  the  observation  of  the  soul's  inner 
experiences,  prominent  among  which  are  its  feelings  of  pleasure  and  pain. 
Not  only  is  this  known  to  be  true  in  fact,  but  it  is  impossible  for  us  to 
conceive  that  any  other  order  should  be  followed.  The  mind  must 
observe  before  it  remembers ;  for,  without  something  observed  and  ac- 
quired, nothing  could  be  remembered  or  imagined,  because  there  would 
be  nothing  to  remember  or  imagine. 

The  objects  or  products  with  which  this  power  is  concerned, 
its  objects ;  how  or  which  it  evolves,  are  individual  objects.  In  this  respect 

they  are  distinguished  from  the  objects  of  thought,  which  are 
always  general.  But  this  feature  they  share  with  those  of  memory  and' 
imagination,  which  are  also  individual.  From  these  last  they  are  still  further 
distinguished  by  being  presented  for  the  first  time  ;  hence  the  epithet  pn 
sentative  is  applied  to  the  faculty  by  which  they  are  known.  This  feature 
is  made  still  more  precise  by  their  relations  in  space  and  in  time.  Th« 
objects  of  sense  are  fixed  in  space,  being  here,  and  the  objects  of  conscious 
ness  are  fixed  as  now  in  time.  These  two  relations  they  share  with  th* 
objects  of  no  other  power.  They  are  also  mutually  related  to  one  another, 
the  one  being  an  individualized  non-ego,  the  other  being  a  determinate 
state  of  the  ego. 

The  conditions  to  these  acts  of  knowledge,  as  in  every  kind 
its  conditions.  of  knowledge,  are  to  be  distinguished  from  the  act  of  knowl- 
edge itself.  The  conditions  furnish  the  material — in  one 
sense  the  objects — which  the  mind  must  know.  The  acting  of  these  coo. 
ditions  in  the  production  of  these  objects,  as  has  been  explained  (§  46),  is 
always  presupposed  before  the  mind  can  know.  The  mind's  act  in  know 


78  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

iog  is  clearly  to  "be  kept  apart  from  the  agency  of  the  soul  or  intellect  in 
preparing  the  object. 

The  conditions  of  the  acts  of  sense-knowledge  are  the  existence  of  the 
living  body  in  connection  with  a  sensitive  or  sensational  spirit.  The  two 
furnish  the  material,  the  occasions,  or  the  objects  on  which  the  Blind 
exercises  the  intellectual  act  of  cognition.  Some  of  these  are  bodily, 
some  are  psychical.  Some  of  these  are  known  to  physiology,  others  to 
acoustics  and  optics.  Others  are  wholly  unknown,  as  is  eminently  true  of 
the  powers  and  relations  of  the  soul  which  respect  the  organized  body. 
But  so  far  as  they  are  knowable,  they  are  appropriately  considered  in 
explaining  the  power  of  sense-knowledge. 

The  condition  which  furnishes  or  constitutes  the  object  for  the  act  of 
consciousness,  is  that  the  soul  should  in  fact  act  or  suffer  in  a  present  and 
individual  state.  Unless  the  soul  is  in  fact  thus  affected,  its  activity  can- 
not be  apprehended  by  consciousness.  Consciousness  takes  heed  of  the 
fact,  i.  e.,  of  the  operation,  and  cognizes  that  it  is.  Whence  or  how  it  is 
that  the  soul  furnishes  this  material,  or  how  the  soul  is  able  to  act  in  these 
varied  forms,  it  can  do  little  to  explain.  These  operations  lie  out  of  the 
range  of  consciousness ;  they  are  presupposed  by  it.  On  the  other  hand, 
consciousness  as  well  as  perception  are  largely  concerned  in  the  use  which 
they  make  of  the  objective  conditions  or  material  of  their  knowing,  and 
are  therefore  largely  responsible  for  what  the  soul  knows.  Let  the  exter- 
nal world  and  the  quick  sensibility  both  conjoin  to  furnish  ample  material 
through  eye  and  ear;  let  the  active  and  eager  soul  exercise  the  most 
varied  forms  of  act  or  affection  ;  if  the  conscious  spirit  does  not  attend,  it 
will  fail  to  notice,  and  of  course  will  fail  to  know. 

§  65.    II.    Next  to  the  presentative  comes  the  faculty  of 
Uvl  facult senta     representation.    That  this  is  developed  second  in  order  of 
growth  and  of  time   to   the  soul's  power  to   acquire   and 
observe,  is  obvious. 

The  objects  or  products  of  this  power  are  individual  objects, 
its  objects.  iike  the  objects  of  sense  and  of  consciousness.  They  differ 
from  them  in  this,  that  they  are  representative  of  them.  Of 
course,  they  are  not  real,  but  mental  objects.  They  are  wrought  or  cre- 
ated by  the  mind  itself,  but  always  with  respect  to  some  real  object  actu- 
ally experienced.  This  is  their  common  characteristic,  that  they  represent 
observed  and  experienced  objects.  They  are  representative ;  i.  e.,  they 
present  a  second  time,  and  thus  stand  in  the  place  of,  objects  previously 
known. 

In  representing  these  objects,  the  mind  acts  in  two  ways — as  the  mem- 
ory ;  and  as  the  imagination  or  phantasy ;  and  hence  the  representative 
power  is  divided  into  these  two.  In  memory  it  knows  that  the  mental  ob- 
ject represents  an  object  previously  known.  In  imagination  it  changes  the 
representative  object  into  another,  which  it  has  never  actually  experienced 


g-66.  ITS   FUNCTION,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND    FACULTIES.  71 

According  as  it  changes  the  object  in  more  or  fewer  particulars,  and  with 
special  applications,  does  the  imagination  receive  different  names. 
£ts   conditions;    ^e  Gonditions  of  the  representing  power  are,  that  the  SOIL 
Es!ati°n     °*    koth  retanis  an(l  reproduces  past  objects  for  the  memory  to 

recognize  and  the  imagination  to  modify.  If  the  soul  refuses 
to  furnish  these  appropriate  objects,  neither  the  memory  nor  the  imagina- 
tion can  know  their  objects.  For  this  reason,  the  power  of  the  soul  to 
retain  and  recall  is  essential  to  the  power  to  know  these  mental  objects 
when  represented.  Ordinarily  and  properly  these  powers  are  prominently 
considered  in  the  analysis  of  the  representative  faculty.  That  they  are 
ideally  and  really  distinguishable  from  one  another  is  obvious.  Hamilton 
distinguishes  three  separate  powers,  viz.,  the  power  to  retain,  the  power  to 
tecall,  and  the  power  to  represent  or  re-know.  The  last  only  is  the  purely 
intellectual  capacity,  the  first  two  being  only  the  capacities  acting  out  of 
consciousness,  which  are  analogous  to  the  psycho-physiological  functions 
that  furnish  sounds  for  the  ear  and  sights  for  the  eye. 

Concerning  the  actings  of  this  conditionating  capacity  of  the  soul  we 
know  little  directly,  but  indirectly  we  know  very  much :  that  is,  we  know 
how  we  can  affect  its  actings  by  our  own  conscious  energies  in  acquiring. 
The  relations  and  laws  by  which  acquired  objects  can  be  reproduced  are 
more  obvious  and  better  established  than  almost  any  other  psychological 
truths.  These  are  all  comprehended  under  the  familiar  title  of  the  asso- 
ciation of  ideas,  and  they  very  properly  enter  largely  into  the  considera- 
tion of  the  representative  power. 

§  66.  ILL  The  power  of  thought  is  developed  last  of  all  in 
tei  °g?nce,  dlv™-  the  order  of  the  soul's  evolution  or  growth.  It  is  also  called 

the  intelligence,  and  the  rational  faculty. 

This  power  requires  for  its  possible  exercise  some  range  of  observation, 
some  wealth  of  memory,  and  some  creative  activity  of  imagination.  For  its 
effective  energy  audits  actual  application  it  must  be  preceded  by  many  sepa- 
rate exercises  of  all  these  functions.  To  the  thorough  and  persistent  use  and 
the  complete  development  of  this  power,  the  soul  is  most  of  all  disinclined ; 
and  therefore  it  disuses  it  in  many  applications,  especially  in  its  higher 
forms,  till  the  experience  of  its  dignity  and  usefulness,  furnishes  motives 
strong  enough  to  constrain  and  discipline  it  to  habitual  and  facile  activity. 
But  though  this  power  is  last  and  reluctantly  developed,  it  surpasses 
all  the  other  kinds  of  knowledge  in  dignity  and  importance.  It  explains 
facts  and  events  by  powers  and  laws.  It  enforces  conclusions  by  premises. 
It  accounts  for  inferences  by  data.  It  lifts  observation  up  to  the  dignity 
of  science,  and  establishes  it  on  the  firm  foundation  of  principles.  It 
enables  us  to  interpret  the  past,  and  to  predict  the  future. 

The  products  of  this  power  are  always  generalized  objects, 
its  products.  They  are  universals,  as  contrasted  with  individuals.  This 

difference  distinguishes  this  power  of  the  intellect  widely 


80  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §66 

from  the  two  others.  These  products  are  known  by  various  names,  and  it 
is  chiefly  by  the  commonly  recognized  differences  in  the  names  of  these 
products,  that  the  subordinate  forms  of  the  power  itself  are  known  and 
named.  These  products  are,  the  concept,  the  class,  the  judgment,  the 
argument,  the  induction,  the  interpretation,  and  the  system.  The  general 
term  comprehending  all  these  products  or  results,  and  presupposing  all  the 
requisite  processes  or  ways  of  knowing,  is  science,  which  is  used  subjec- 
tively for  the  processes,  and  objectively  for  their  combined  products. 

In  accordance  with  these  distinguishable  products,  the  intellect  is  said 
to  perform  all  the  acts  which  require  the  several  powers  or  faculties  of 
generalizing,  classifying,  judging,  reasoning,  inferring,  explaining,  and 
methodizing  the  individual  objects  given  by  experience.  Hence  the  intel- 
lect is  sometimes  said  to  be  endowed  with  as  many  separate  faculties. 

The  most  obvious  aid  or  instrument  provided  by  Nature  for  further- 
ing  these  processes  and  retaining  their  products,  is  language.  For  this 
reason  the  existence  of  language  is  regarded  as  a  necessary  result  of  the 
power  of  thought,  and  the  use  of  language  is  regarded  as  the  indication  of 
its  presence  and  exercise. 

The  conditions  of  thought,  as  distinguished  from  the  mate- 
^thought!*10118  ri^8  or  occasions  of  thought  which  experience  furnishes,  aro 
relations  discerned  by  the  power  of  thought  itself,  in  a  way 
analogous  to  the  preparation  of  the  occasions  of  sense-perception  and  con- 
sciousness by  the  subtle  and  recondite  activity  of  the  soul  itself,  and  the 
occasions  of  memory  and  imagination  through  the  laws  of  association. 
They  are  analogous  so  far  as  that  the  reality  of  these  relations  is  an 
assumed  condition  of  these  peculiar  operations  ;  and  when  the  mind  cornea 
to  apprehend  them,  it  must  proceed  upon  the  belief  that  they  are  uni- 
versally present  and  incontestably  valid.  In  this  sense  the  mind  itself  pre- 
pares for  itself  these  objects  of  its  own  apprehension.  For  the  service  of 
thought,  all  individual  objects  are  still  further  prepared  by  being  con- 
nected or  bound  together  under  universal  and  necessary  relations  or  cate- 
gories. Such  are  the  relations  of  substance  and  attribute,  cause  and  effect, 
means  and  end.  These  must  be  presented  to  the  mind  by  the  mind,  in 
order  that  a  single  process  of  thought  may  be  performed,  or  a  single 
product  evolved.  Thus  the  relation  of  substance  and  attribute  is  assumed 
as  real  in  order  to  the  possibility  and  truth  of  the  acts  of  generalizing  and 
of  judgment.  The  relation  of  cause  and  effect  must  be  presupposed  to 
give  meaning  and  force  to  acts  of  reasoning  and  explanation.  The  rela- 
tions of  design  are  the  prefatory  conditions  of  acts  of  induction.  But 
universal  or  generalized  objects  presuppose  the  existence  of  individual 
concepts  and  their  relations,  and  have  no  meaning  except  as  they  are 
related  to  beings  and  phenomena  as  perceived  and  experienced.  To  indi- 
vidual beings  and  events,  space  and  time  relations  are  presupposed. 
Therefore,  in  order  to  the  products  of  thought,  the  intuitions  of  space  and 


§66.  ITS   FUNC^TON,    DEVELOPMENT,    AND   FACULTIES.  81 

time  are  presupposed.  In  other  words,  the  mind  must  assume  that  every 
individual  object  stands  connected  with  other  objects  by  all  these  relations! 
before  it  can  proceed  a  step  in  the  various  activities  of  thinking  these 
objects,  by  conceptions,  arguments,  inferences,  etc.  These  relations  are 
said  to  be  a,  priori,  for  the  reason  that  they  are  presupposed  in  these 
processes.  They  are  called  intuitions,  primitive  cognitions,  etc.,  etc. 
They  are  said  to  be  universal,  because  applicable  to  every  individual 
object  in  the  way  explained.  They  are  necessary  notions,  because  they 
are  necessarily  applied  by  the  mind  in  all  its  thought-activities,  and  to  all 
thought-objects. 

They  are,  however,  no  more  necessary  to  thought  than  they  are  to 
presentation  and  representation.  We  imply  and  suppose  them  as  truly, 
though  not  as  conspicuously,  in  perception  and  consciousness,  in  memory 
and  imagination,  as  we  do  in  classification  and  reasoning.  We  connect 
them  more  directly  with  the  processes  of  intelligence,  because  it  is  not 
till  we  question  or  analyze  these  processes  that  we  are  forced  to  recognize 
their  presence  and  assent  to  their  validity,  as  directly  and  conspicuously 
assumed  in  them  all. 

Moreover,  it  is  by  means  of  the  generalizing  and  the  inductive  pro- 
cesses that  we  discern  and  define  these  categories.  It  is  only  as  we  use 
thought -processes  critically  —  i.  e.,  as  we  generalize  and  interpret  our 
own  mental  processes — that  we  discover  these  relations  as  everywhere  and 
necessarily  present.  Though  they  are  actually  present,  as  the  conditions 
and  elements  of  all  our  knowing,  it  is  only  by  thought  that  we  discover 
and  demonstrate  their  presence  and  their  application,  as  the  conditions  of 
all  knowledge.  It  is  for  this  reason  that  the  treatment  of  them  is  so 
directly  connected  with  the  analysis  of  thought,  and  that,  when  thought,  in 
its  turn,  is  applied  to  their  analysis,  as  the  explanation  and  vindication  of 
human  knowledge  in  its  processes  and  products,  then  the  intellect  is  said 
to  reach  the  critical  stage  of  its  development. 

In  view  of  this  distinction  in  the  thinking  power,  or  the  two 
foTmsof?hou  WL  asPec^s  m  which  it  is  to  be  regarded,  the  power  itself  has 
been  treated  as  twofold,  and  been  subdivided  into  two :  the 
elaborative  faculty,  as  performing  the  processes,  and  the  regulative,  as 
furnishing  the  rules,  or  more  properly  as  prescribing  the  sphere  and  possi- 
bility of  thought.  These  are  named  also  the  dianoetic  and  the  noetw 
faculty.  By  some  writers  they  are  distinguished  as  the  understanding  and 
reason,  in  a  usage  suggested  by  Kant,  but  deviating  materially  from  his 
own.  Milton  and  others  call  them  the  discursive  and  intuitive  Reason. 

It  is  clear  that  the  analysis  of  the  thinking  power  involves  two  heads 
of  inquiry : 

(1.)  What  are  the  several  processes  of  thought  of  which  the  intellect 
is  capable,  in  the  order  of  their  development,  the  manner  of  their  action, 
their  conditions,  and  their  products  ?     So  far  as  psychology  t>rosecutea 
6 


82  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT  §  66 

these  inquiries,  it  considers  them  subjectively  as  processes  of  the  soul. 
When  we  go  further,  and  proceed  to  define  their  products  as  expressed  in 
language,  or  to  derive  rules  for  the  knowing  processes,  or  to  test  the  trust- 
worthiness of  what  is  known,  psychology  passes  over  into  the  service  of 
logic. 

(2.)  What  are  the  ultimate  relations  or  categories  which  thought,  and, 
indeed,  all  knowledge,  presupposes?  What  is  the  power  or  process  by 
which  these  categories  are  known  ?  What  the  time  of  their  develop- 
ment ?  What  the  conditions  of  their  action  ?  What  is  the  authority  and 
trustworthiness  of  these  truths  ?  What  is  the  relation  of  these  intuitions 
to  special  acts  of  knowledge  ?  What  application  can  be  made  of  them  to 
the  discovery  of  truth  and  the  detection  of  error  ?  Last  of  all,  how  can 
they  be  applied  to  vindicate  man's  confidence  in  his  own  knowledge,  and 
his  very  power  to  know  ? 

All  these  questions,  when  prosecuted  with  reference  to  the  subjective 
power  of  the  soul  to  evolve  and  apply  these  intuitions,  belong  legitimately 
and  necessarily  to  psychology. 

So  far  as  the  intuitions  themselves,  objectively  considered,  are  made 
the  subjects  of  analysis  and  discussion  ;  so  far  as  their  relations  to  one 
another,  and  the  structure  of  human  knowledge,  are  examined ;  so  far,  in 
short,  as  they  are  made  the  subject  of  critical  or  speculative  discussion, 
they  lead  us  within  the  field  of  metaphysics,  ontology,  or  speculative 
philosophy,  for  which,  as  has  been  already  explained,  psychology  is  the 
direct  and  necessary  preparation. 

In  view  of  the  importance  of  this  critical  examination  of  the  mind's 
own  processes,  and  of  the  trustworthiness  of  these  products,  the  discus- 
sion of  the  so-called  intuitions,  or  the  concepts  and  relations  involved  in 
all  human  knowledge,  falls  within  the  province  of  psychology,  and  may 
properly  form  a  distinct  division  in  the  scientific  analysis  of  the  human 
intellect. 

We  divide,  therefore,  our  treatise  into  four  parts,  with  the  following 
titles :  I.  PRESENTATION  ;  II.  REPRESENTATION  ;  III.  THOUGHT  ;  IV.  IN- 
TUITION. For  the  explanation  and  justification  of  this  division  we  must 
refer  to  the  foregoing  remarks,  and  the  subsequent  treatment  of  the  tODica 
themselves. 


THE  HUMAN  INTELLECT 


PART    FIRST. 

-/ 
PRESENTATION  AND  PRESENTATIVE  KNOWLEDGE. 


CHAPTER    I. 

CONSCIOUSNESS NATURAL   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

begin  with  preservative  knowledge,  and  the  faculties  by  which  man  is  capable  of  acquir 
ing  it.  This  knowledge  has  been  defined  as  concerned  with  objects  which  are  directlj 
and  for  the  first  time  presented  to  the  mind,  as  acquired  for  the  mind's  future  recall  and 
use,  and  as  gained  only  by  actual  experience.  It  is  therefore  called  presentative,  acquisi- 
tive, and  experimental  or  empirical.  Of  objects  thus  presented  to  the  mind  there  are  two 
classes :  objects  of  matter,  and  objects  of  spirit.  Corresponding  to  these  two  classes  of 
objects,  two  powers  or  faculties  are  distinguished,  viz.,  CONSCIOUSNESS  and  SENSE-PERCEP- 
TION. We  shall  first  treat  of  consciousness. 

§  67.  Consciousness  is  briefly  defined  as  the  power  by  which 
11683  ^e  so11^  knows  ^s  own  ac*s  and  states.  The  soul  is  aware 

of  the  fleeting  und  transitory  acts  which  it  performs  ;  as 
when  it  perceives,  remembers,  feels,  and  decides.  It  also  knows  its  own 
states  •  as  when  it  is  conscious  of  a  continued  condition  of  intellectual 
activity,  a  gay  or  melancholy  mood  of  feeling,  or  a  fixed  and  enduring 
purpose.  Whether  the  state  is  in  such  cases  in  fact  prolonged,  or  only 
repeated  by  successive  renewals,  we  need  not  here  inquire  ;  it  is  sufficient 
that  states  of  the  soul  are  distinguished  from  its  acts  by  their  seeming 
continuance. 

The  power  by  which  the  soul  is  made  aware  of  what  happens  to  it  or  takes 

Appi'ed  to    the    place  within  itself— whether  it  is  action  or  affection,  doing  or  experiencing — 

power    and     its     ; 

acts.  is  called  the  power  of  consciousness,  or,  briefly,  consciousness.      We  say 

freely  and  properly,  man  is  endowed  with  consciousness,  or  consciousness  js 
ehe  feature  by  which  he  is  distinguished  from  and  elevated  above  the  brutes.  It  might  be 
urged  that  it  is  more  exact  to  apply  the  term  to  the  exercise  of  the  power,  rather  than  to  the 
power  itself.  Thus  we  speak  of  an  act  of  consciousness,  through  which  we  are  distinctly  aware 
of  a  mental  act  or  state.  We  also  talk  of  an  appeal  to  consciousness,  in  order  that  we  may 
decide  whether  an  assertion  concerning  the  soul  is  true.  We  intend  in  such  language  that  the 
f?o  il,  by  its  consciousness  of  the  act,  can  discern  and  decide  whether  the  affirmation  is  true  And 


84  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  "70 

yet  it  might  be  contended  that  in  phrases  of  this  kind,  what  is  intended  is  the  exercise  or  act 
of  the  power  or  endowment  called  consciousness.  So  easily  does  one  of  these  uses  pass  into 
the  other,  and  so  readily  is  the  name  of  the  power  applied  to  the  exertion  of  the  power.  Of 
such  an  interchange,  and  consequent  ambiguity,  we  shall  find  many  examples  as  we  proceed. 

Consciousness  §  ^*  Again,  the  terms  conscious  and  consciousness  are  often 
nate  knowk^e  aPP^e(^  to  anJ  act  whatever  of  direct  cognition,  whether  its 
of  any  kind.  object  be  internal  or  external.  In  other  words,  they  are  used 
as  equivalent  to  knowing,  perceiving,  etc.,  and  to  knowledge,  perception, 
etc.  Thus  we  say,  '  I  was  not  conscious  that  you  were  in  the  room  ; '  or, 
4 1  was  not  conscious  that  he  was  speaking;'  as  well  as,  'I  was  not  con- 
scious of  being  angry.'  In  cases  like  these  the  terms  designate  an  act  of 
simple  perception  or  knowledge.  The  reason  why  they  come  to  do  so  is, 
that  every  act  of  knowledge,  whatever  be  its  nature  or  object,  is  attended 
by  consciousness.  The  phrase,  '  I  was  not  conscious  that  you  were  in  the 
room,'  is  explained  as  meaning,  '  I  was  not  conscious  of  seeing  you  in  the 
room.'  Especially  are  we  said  to  be  conscious,  whenever  our  perception 
or  knowledge  is  distinct  and  clear. 

Whether,  in  the  strict  and  limited  sense  of  the  term,  we  can  he  conscious  of  the  act  without  also  heing 
aware  of  the  object,  and  whether,  consequently,  we  are  properly  said,  in  this  sense,  to  be  conscious  of  the 
object,  will  be  discussed  further  on  (§  82).  It  is  sufficient  here  to  notice  that  the  words  are  often  used  for 
distinct  knowledge  of  any  kind,  especially  for  such  a  knowledge  of  sensible  objects. 

§  69.  Consciousness  is  also  employed  as  a  collective  term  foi 
for  aii  the  intei-  all  the  intellectual  states.  In  the  words  of  Sir  William 

lectual  states. 

Hamilton,  "  it  is  a  comprehensive  term  ior  the  complement 
of  our  cognitive  energies."  Every  such  state  or  energy  is  attended  by 
consciousness ;  it  is  an  act  or  state  of  which  we  are  conscious,  or,  as  wo 
sometimes  say,  it  is  a  conscious  act  or  state.  The  sum-total  of  all  such 
acts  is  therefore  expressively  described  as  the  consciousness  of  an  individual. 
It  is  equally  true  that  we  are  conscious  of  our  states  of  feeling,  and  all 
these  may  be  designated  by  the  same  general  and  comprehensive  term, 
though  with  somewhat  less  propriety.  So,  also,  the  various  modes  of  the 
soul's  activity,  whether  we  speak  of  what  is  actual  or  possible  to  an  indi- 
vidual or  a  class  of  men,  or  to  the  whole  human  race,  are  comprehended 
under  the  term  ;  as  when  we  speak  of  the  range  of  human  consciousnes? 
as  equivalent  to  the  states  or  modes  of  actual  or  possible  human  ex- 
perience. 

Some  writers  have  borrowed  from  the  German  the  phrases,  '  the  Christian  consciousness,' 
and  the  like,  making  consciousness,  for  the  reason  already  given,  to  represent  those  beliefs  and 
feelings  of  which  the  Christian,  or  any  other  type  of  man,  is  conscious.  All  the  acts  and  states 
which  are  comprehended  under  this  abstract  designation  have  this  common  characteristic,  that 
we  are  conscious  of  them  all.  We  therefore  designate  them  all  by  this  common  feature. 

8  70.    Consciousness  is   often  figuratively  described   as   the 

Metaphorical  def-     *•  J 

tuitions  of  con-   '  witness     of  the  states  oi   the  soul,  as  though  it  were  an 
observer  separate  from  the  soul  itself,  inspecting  and  behold 


sciousness. 


g  72.  CONSCIOUSNESS.  66 

ing  its  processes.  It  is  called  the  '  inner  light,'  '  an  inner  illumination,'  as 
though  a  sudden  flash  or  steady  radiance  could  be  thrown  within  the 
spirit,  revealing  objects  that  would  otherwise  be  indistinct,  or  causing 
those  to  appear  which  would  otherwise  not  be  seen  at  all.  Appellations 
like  these  are  so  obviously  figurative,  that  it  is  surprising  that  any  philoso- 
pher should  use  them  for  scientific  purposes,  or  should  reason  upon,  or 
use  them  with  scientific  rigor.  However  they  are  intended,  they  are 
liable  to  this  objection,  that  they  often  mislead  the  student  by  furnishing 
him  a  sensuous  picture,  a  pleasing  fancy,  or  an  attractive  image,  when  he 
needs  an  exact  conception  or  a  discriminated  definition  (cf.  §  25). 

Thus  Cousin  says  (as  translated  by  Henry) :  "  Consciousness  is  a  witness  which  gives  ua 
information  of  every  thing  which  takes  place  in  the  interior  of  our  own  minds.  It  is  not  the 
principle  of  any  of  our  faculties,  but  is  a  light  to  them  all," — COUSIN'S  Psychology,  chap.  x. 

Dr.  Hiekok,  also  :  "  If,  instead  of  attempting  to  conceive  consciousness  as  a  distinct  men- 
tal faculty,  ...  we  will  consider  it  under  the  analogy  of  an  inner  illumination,"  &c.  "  The 
conception  is  not  of  a  faculty,  but  of  a  light ;  not  of  an  action,  but  of  an  illumination ;  not 
of  a  maker  of  phenomena,  but  of  a  revealer  of  them  as  already  made  by  the  appropriate  intel- 
lectual operation." — Empirical  Psychology,  Introduction,  chap.  iii.  2. 

§  71.   The  terms  conscious  and  consciousness  explain  their 
own  meaning,  and  confirm  the  truth  of  the  assumption  and 
belief  that  the  fact  implied  by  the  language  is  to  be  received. 
They  describe  a  knowing  with,  or  an  attendant  knowledge,  and  they  imply 
that  the  states  of  the  human  soul  may  be  known  by  the  soul  to  which 
they  pertain. 

The  power  of  the  soul  thus  to  know  itself  is  often  called  the  internal, 
or  the  inner  sense.  This  term  is  suggested  by  analogy.  As  the  soul,  by 
the  external  sense  or  senses,  apprehends  the  properties  and  qualities  of 
matter,  so  it  is  said  to  know  its  own  states  and  powers  by  another,  viz., 
an  inner  sense. 

This  analogy  has  been  pushed  by  many  to  an  extreme.  It  has  been  inferred,  because,  as 
the  conditions  of  the  apprehension  of  external  objects  and  qualities,  special  sensations  are 
required,  it \herefore  follows  that  there  must  be  an  analogous  something  in  the  spirit,  priced- 
ing  the  apprehension  of  internal  operations  ;  that,  because  the  power  is  called  a  sense,  it  must 
experience  g-wasi-sensations.  Cf.  Fries,  Neue  Kritik  der  Vernunft,  vol.  i.  §§  21-28. 

§  72.  Consciousness  is,  for  the  same  reason,  also  called  by 
£hyeeo Sued ;  manj  philosophers,  as  Leibnitz,  ad-  or  apperception,  by 

which  term  the  same  fact  is  recognized  that  consciousness 
implies,  viz.,  a  perception  of  the  mind's  own  states,  in  addition  to  the  per- 
ception  of  the  objects  of  those  states. 

Apperception  is  not,  however,  limited  to  this  application,  but  is  used 
for  any  additional  or  added  perception  ;  as,  for  example,  of  the  real  object 
in  addition  to  the  image  which  represents  the  object.  Apperception  in  this 
sense  is  very  near  to  the  reflective,  or  secondary  consciousness,  to  which  wf 
shall  advert  hereafter. 


86  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  73 

"  Thus  it  is  well  to  make  a  distinction  between  perception,  which  is  the  inner  state  of  the  monad, 
representing  external  things,  and  apperception,  which  is  consciousness,  or  the  reflexive  knowledge  of  thi* 
interior  state,  which  is  not  given  to  all  souls,  nor  always  to  the  same  soul."  Leibnitz.  Of  Nature  and 
Grace,  §  4,  cf.  Memoire  sur  V apperception  de  la  propre  existence. 

It  is  worth  while  to  notice  that  among  the  philosophers  of  the  Leibnitzian  school  the  word  appercep- 
tion is  variously  denned.  Thus  Christian  Wolf  says  :  "  Menti  tribuitur  apperceptio  quatenus  perceptionu 
Ruae  sibi  conscia  est. 

"  Apperception! s  nomine  utitur  Lefbnitius :  coincidit  autem  cum  conscientia,  quern  terminum  in  prae 
senti  negotio  Cartesius  adhibet."— Emp.  Psych.,  V.  i.  sec.  i.  cap.  ii.  §  25. 

But  D.  M.  G.  Hanschius,  in  his  Leibnitii  Princ.  Phil.,  says,  after  defining  aj  perception,  Sec.  cxi. : 
"  Apperceptio  includit  claritatem  repraesentationis.  Coroll.  II.  Omnis  perceptio  distincta,  est  apper- 
ceptio." 

It  is  interesting  to  observe  how  that,  in  these  two  distinct  significations  of  apperception,  we  have  the 
precise  counterpart  of  the  two  senses  of  consciousness  as  knowledge  and  clear  knowledge.  The  solution  is 
well  expressed  by  the  remark  of  Wolf*  ;<  Omnis  cogitatio  et  perceptionem  et  apperceptionem  involvit." 

The  term  Bewusstseyn,  and  its  cognates  in  the  Teutonic  languages,  recognizes  rather  the 
distinct  than  the  accompanying  knowledge  which  consciousness  makes  prominent.  It  de- 
scribes a  be-,  rather  than  a  cow-knowing ;  i.  e.,  the  clear  and  completed  knowledge  which  the 
mind  usually  attains  by  a  second  and  more  attentive  look.  Hence  it  is  with  eminent  propriety 
applied  to  that  knowledge  which  the  soul  has  of  its  inner  states,  as  this,  to  be  of  any  service, 
must  be  earnest  and  attentive.  The  word  in  German,  however,  is  not  so  closely  limited  to  this 
internal  knowledge,  as  is  consciousness,  in  English.  It  is  supplemented  by  self-consciousness 
— Selbst-bewusstseyn.  Hence  sometimes,  when  we  should  use  consciousness  only,  the  Germans 
would  say  self-consciousness.  Their  more  usual  technical  appellation  for  the  power  is  the  inner 
or  internal  sense. 

Not  a  little  confusion  of  thought  has  resulted  from  the  failure  of  some,  not  to  say  of  most 
translators,  to  notice  that  the  proper  meaning  of  Bewusstseyn,  especially  in  compounds  and 
with  prefixes,  is  knowledge  rather  than  consciousness ;  e.  g.,  G-ottcsbewusstseyn  is  not  so  well 
translated  by  the  'consciousness  of  God,'  as  by  the  'intuition  of  God,' or  '  the  direct  and 
necessary  knowledge  of  God.'  Cf.  Biunde,  Versuch.  d.  emp.  Psych.,  B.  i.  §  49. 

Consciousness  §  ^3-  ^flection  is  the  appellation  used  by  Locke  for  this 
defined1  andusea  Power  >  or>  m°re  exactly,  it  is  under  this  appellation  that  he 
by  Locke.  discusses  its  nature  and  authority.  Hence,  among  many 

English  writers  reflection  is  freely  used  as  the  exact  equivalent  of  con- 
sciousness. It  is  the  great  and  distinctive  merit  of  Locke  to  have  called 
attention  to  it  as  a  separate  source  of  knowledge,  and  to  have  claimed  for 
the  knowledge  which  it  furnishes  equal  authority  and  certainty  with  that 
which  is  received  through  the  senses.  That  Locke  did  not  originate  the 
term,  nor  the  conception  which  the  term  denotes,  is  established  decisively 
by  Hamilton  (Met.,  Lee.  13).  Locke's  language  is  worth  quoting  for  the 
clearness  with  which  he  expresses  his  doctrine,  as  well  as  for  the  impor- 
tance of  the  passage  in  relation  to  the  history  of  psychological  and  philo- 
sophical opinions : 

"  The  other  fountain  from  which  experience  furnisheth  the  understanding  with  ideas,  is 
the  perception  of  the  operations  of  our  own  minds  within  us,  as  it  is  employed  about  the  ideas 
which  it  has  got ;  which  operations,  when  the  soul  comes  to  reflect  on  and  consider,  do  fur- 
mail  the  understanding  with  another  set  of  ideas,  which  could  not  be  had  from  things  without ; 
and  such  are  perception,  thinking,  doubting,  believing,  reasoning,  knowing,  willing,  and  all  the 
different  actings  of  our  own  minds ;  which  we,  being  conscious  of,  and  observing  in  ourselves, 
do  from  these  receive  into  our  understandings  as  distinct  ideas  as  we  do  from  bodies  affecting 


§  74.  CONSCIOUSNESS.  8} 

our  souses.  This  source  of  ideas  every  man  has  wholly  in  himself;  and  though  it  be  not 
sense,  as  having  nothing  to  do  with  external  objects,  yet  it  is  very  like  it,  and  might  properly 
enough  be  called  internal  sense.  But  as  I  call  the  other,  sensation,  so  I  call  this,  reflection,  the 
ideas  it  affords  being  such  only  as  the  mind  gets  by  reflecting  on  its  c«^  operations  within 
itself." — Jfssay,  Book  ii.  chap.  i.  §  4. 

The  passage  quoted,  has  been  a  fruitful  text  for  controversy  in  respect  to  many  questions.  The  OEJJ 
questions,  however,  with  which  we  are  at  present  concerned,  are  (1.)  whether  Locke  distinguishes  conscious- 
ness from  reflection  ?  and  (2.)  if  so,  does  he  define  the  relation  of  onp  to  the  other?  To  the  first,  we  answer  : 
that  Locke  uses  the  terms  consciousness,  and  reflection,  in  separate  passages,  no  one  can  deny  who  read* 
the  following  passages— Essay,  B.  ii.  c.  27,  §  9 ;  c.  i.  §  19 ;  c.  i.  §  24 ;  c.  10,  §  5 ;  c.  i.  §  4.  He  aaya 
distinctly,  "  Consciousness  is  the  perception  of  what  passes  in  a  man's  own  mind."  He  insists  most  eoi^ 
nestly  that  the  soul  cannot  he  active  without  being  conscious  of  its  activity.  "  No  man  can  be  wholly 
ignorant  of  what  he  docs  when  he  thinks."  Whenever  he  has  occasion  to  speak  of  the  power  which 
gives  us  ideas  of  our  operations,  he  invariably  uses  the  term  refaction.  The  reason  is  obvious  from  hia 
own  words  as  quoted  above — "  which  operations,  when  the  soul  comes  to  reflect  on  and  consider,  do  furnish 
the  understanding  with  another  set  of  ideas."  In  other  words,  though  we  cannot  but  be  conscious  of  every 
act  of  thought,  or,  as  elsewhere  explained,  of  every  state  of  the  soul,  yet  it  is  only  when  we  reflect  or  con- 
sider these  that  we  gain  ideas  of  them.  To  the  second  question  we  answer :  that  Locke  nowhere  in  form 
defines  the  relation  of  consciousness  to  reflection.  It  never  seems  to  have  occurred  to  him  that  they  are 
related ,  or  that  he  ought  to  explain  what  their  relations  are.  The  questions  which,  since  his  time,  have 
assumed  so  groat  interest  and  importance,  did  not  present  themselves  to  his  mind.  From  the  use  which  he 
makes  of  these  terms,  however,  we  are  fully  authorized  to  derive  the  following  as  a  just  statement  of  the 
opinions  which  he  would  have  expressed  had  his  attention  been  called  to  the  relation  of  consciousness  to 
'reflection  :  In  order  to  gain  ideas  or  permanent  knowledge  of  the  mind,  we  must  use  a  certain  power  with 
reflection  and  consideration.  Bat  the  power  itself  is  not  created  or  first  exercised  by  or  in  such  acts  or 
efforts.  These  are  but  exercises  of  this  power  in  a  given  way  and  energy.  The  power  itself  is  the  capacity 
of  the  iniiiclto  know  its  acts  or  states.  This  power  is  consciousness,  which  Locke  himself  has  defined  to  ba 
"  the  perception  of  what  passes  in  a  man's  own  mind,"  and  without  which  man  never  thinks  at  all.  When 
this  power  is  used  in  a  peculiar  way,  and  with  energy  or  concentration  enough  to  secure  a  certain  effect,  it 
becomes  reflection.  Reflection  is  therefore  consciousness  intensified  by  attention.  Inasmuch,  however, 
as  the  power  is  rarely  referred  to  except  as  giving  the  results  of  actual  knowledge,  reflection  is  the  word  by 
which  it  is  usually  known. 

§  74.  Consciousness  is  exercised  in  two  forms  or  species  of 
activity™  '  activity,  viz.,  the  natural  or  spontaneous,  and  the  artificial  or 

reflective.  They  are  also  called  by  some  writers  the  primary 
and  the  secondary  consciousness.  The  one  form  is  possessed  by  all  men  ; 
the  other  is  attained  by  few.  The  first  is  a  gift  of  Nature  and  product  of 
spontaneous  growth ;  the  second  is  an  accomplishment  of  art  and  the 
reward  of  special  discipline.  The  natural  precedes  the  reflective  in  the  order 
of  time  and  of  actual  development.  But  it  does  not  differ  from  it  in  kind, 
only  in  an  accidental  element,  which  brings  its  result's  within  our  reach 
and  retains  them  for  our  service.  This  is  the  general  conception  which 
we  form  of  both,  as  preliminary  to  the  special  consideration  of  each. 

Consciousness,  like  every  other  kind  of  knowledge,  can  be  exercised  with  varying  degrees 
of  energy.  In  other  words,  it  can  be  accompanied  with  more  or  less  attention.  The  degrees 
of  attention  with  which  it  is  exercised  by  different  persons  at  different  periods  in  different 
conditions  of  life,  and  under  the  aids  and  excitements  of  education  and  culture,  are  exceed- 
ingly numerous,  and  distinguished  by  shades  of  difference  that  readily  run  into  one  another. 
They  are  measured  by  a  scale  of  more  extensive  range  than  can  be  applied  to  the  varying 
energies  of  any  other  human  endowment.  Men  differ  more  widely  in  respect  to  the  energy 
Mid  effect  with  which  they  use  this  power,  than  in  respect  to  any  other. 

The  capacity  to  attend  to  the  psychical  states  in  the  lowest  appreciable  degree — i.  e.,  with 
feat  energy  which  leaves  any  permanent  product  or  result  for  the  memory  or  imagination — is 


£8  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  75 

mat-ired  by  the  slow  education  of  infancy  and  childhood  (§  86).  During  this  period,  even 
under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  the  growth  and  development  of  consciousness  ii 
steady,  but  slow.  Under  the  influence  of  moral  and  religious  stimulus  it  jp  oftentimes  brough 
to  striking  maturity  in  persons  who,  in  other  respects,  have  little  culture.  Not  unfrequentlj 
its  development  is  carried  to  a  morbid  excess. 

Where  consciousness  is  energized  by  attention,  and  applied  to  psychical  phenomena  for 
scientific  purposes  in  the  interest  of  psychological  science,  it  is  called  the  secondary,  the  arti. 
ficial,  the  philosophical  or  reflective  consciousness,  or  simply,  reflection.  As  such,  it  is  distin- 
guished from  and  contrasted  with  the  primary,  the  natural,  the  common,  the  unreflecting  con- 
sciousness, or  simply,  consciousness.  The  division  indicated  by  these  contrasted  terms  is 
convenient  and  important.  It  should  always  be  remembered,  however,  that  the  two  so-called 
species  of  consciousness  do  not  differ  from  one  another  in  kind,  but  in  degree,  and  that  there 
is  no  well-defined  and  sharp  line  of  distinction  that  divides  off  the  one  from  the  other.  Nor 
ehould  it  be  forgotten  that  the  so-called  natural  consciousness,  or  consciousness  as  possessed 
and  used  by  adults  of  average  culture  in  an  intelligent  community,  is  the  result  of  growth 
and  the  product  of  culture  (§  86).  The  power  and  habit  of  attentively  apprehending  one's 
own  psychical  states  exists  in  such  persons  in  various  degrees  of  energy  and  perfection.  The 
Beveral  stages  of  the  growth  of  the  natural  consciousness  are  sometimes  indicated  by  terms 
ranging  from  the  lower  toward  the  higher  points  in  the  scale,  as,  self-feeling,  consciousness, 
consciousness  of  the  ego,  self-consciousness.  These  appellations  are  artificial  and  technical, 
which  have  scarcely  been  received  into  current  use,  or  taken  a  precise  import. 

In  treating  of  consciousness,  we  begin  with  what  we  called  the  natural  or  primary  con- 
sciousness. We  shall  first  treat  of  the  elements  which  are  essential  to  this  form  of  knowledge, 
with  whatever  degree  of  energy  it  may  be  exerted,  and  afterward  treat  of  its  growth  and 
development. 

Natural      con-    8  7-5.    We   begin   with   natural,   or  primary   consciousness. 

sciousness  defiu-  .  .       ,  ,  .    .      .  ...  .. 

as  an  act.  Natural  consciousness  is  the  power  which  the  mind  naturally 
<  ^^  necessarily  possesses  of  knowing  its  own  acts  and  states. 
It  may  be  further  described  by  considering  it  in  its  operations  and  its 
objects,  or  as  consciousness  the  act,  and  consciousness  the  object. 

We  begin  with  consciousness  the  act.  As  an  act,  it  is  a  necessary  and 
essential  constituent  of  many  active  conditions  of  the  soul.  The  soul  can- 
not know,  without  knowing  that  it  knows.  It  cannot  feel,  without  know- 
ing that  it  feels  ;  nor  can  it  desire,  will,  and  act,  without  knowing  that  it 
desires,  wills,  and  acts. 

It  is  held  by  many  psychologists  that  there  are  states  of  the  soul  of  which  we  are  not  con- 
teious.  Others  hold  that  we  are  conscious  of  all  its  activities.  We  do  not  discuss  the  question  here, 
but  reserve  it  for  future  consideration  (§  87).  For  our  present  purpose,  it  is  enough  to  assert, 
as  all  will  agree,  that  there  are  many  acts  of  which  we  are  naturally  and  necessarily  conscious. 

An  act  of  knowi-  Consciousness  is  an  act  of  knowledge,  and  is  therefore  an 
reigationJvol^d  act  purely  and  simply  intellectual — an  exercise  of  the  intcl- 
product.  ject  oniy.  The  states  observed  may  be  psychical,  i.  e., 

indifferently  states  of  intellect,  sensibility,  or  will — but  the  act  by  which 
they  are  known  is  intellectual  only.  It  is  an  act  of  direct  or  intuitive 
knowledge.  *To  attain  it,  neither  memory  nor  reasoning  are  required,  nor 
any  indirect  process  or  succession  of  acts,  but  the  soul  immediately  know? 


g  75.  NATURAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  89 

its  present  condition  or  act.    It  confronts  it  face  to  face.     It  knows  it  as 
now  existing.    It  is  eminently  presentative  knowledge. 

Consciousness,  as  an  act  of  knowledge,  is  matured  into,  or  results  in  a 
peculiar  product.  When  it  is  complete,  it  furnishes  for  the  mind's  recall 
an  idea  of  the  object  known.  This  is  a  purely  intellectual  result.  What  the 
mind  is  conscious  of  may  be  a  state  of  knowledge,  feeling,  or  choice,  but 
the  mind's  consciousness  of  feeling  or  choice,  as  a  product  or  result  whicl 
it  retains  and  recalls,  is  not  feeling  or  choice,  but  the  idea  or  image  of 
either.  The  feeling  and  choice  which  we  recall  is  not  a  feeling  or  choice, 
but  our  idea  or  image  of  a  feeling  or  choice,  and  this  is  purely  intellectual. 
This  is  very  important  to  be  considered  for  a  correct  theory  of  representa- 
tion. As  an  act  of  knowledge,  it  involves  the  discernment  of  relations 
(§  49).  We  know  the  state  to  be  our  own ;  i.  e.,  we  discern  its  relation 
to  ourselves.  We  know  that  the  present  is  not  the  past  state  of  the  soul ; 
i.  e.,  we  know  the  two  under  the  relations  of  contrast  and  of  time.  Again, 
the  knowing  agent  distinguishes  itself  as  the  conscious  observer  from 
itself  and  its  own  states  as  the  object  observed.  While  it  knows  the 
states  which  it  observes,  to  be  its  own,  it  discriminates  the  object  observed 
from  itself,  the  observer,  and  from  its  own  act  of  observation.  Thus  it 
fulfils  the  conditions  which  have  been  laid  down  as  common  to  every  act 
of  knowledge,  that  it  is  at  once  an  act  of  analytic  separation  and  synthetic 
union.  The  object  thus  discriminated  from  and  by  the  observer  becomes, 
when  it  is  discriminated  with  •  sufficient  attention,  a  separate  product  for 
the  mind's  retention  and  recall,  or  furnishes  material  for  the  representative 
power  under  its  several  forms  of  phantasy,  memory,  and  imagination. 

The  act  of  consciousness  is  a  peculiar  intellectual  act — an  act 

A    peculiar  act.        ,          .  ...          ,,  .  .          -.-,  .    ,,  .. 

in  its  conditions,    that  is  preeminently  sm  generis.     Especially  is  it  peculiar  in 

the  conditions  of  its  exercise.     To  most  of  the  other  acts  of 

knowledge  it  is  required  that  their  objects  should  exist  before  they  are 

known.      But  in  this  peculiar  process  the  object  and  act  are  blended  in  one. 

Thus,  the  landscape  on  which  I  gaze  is  a  permanent  object,  to  which  I  can  bring  and  from 
irhich  I  can  withdraw  my  mind.  The  thought  or  feeling  which  I  remember  must  have  been 
experienced  in  order  that  it  may  be  known  a  second  time.  It  is  rashly  concluded  by  many 
that  this  is  a  necessary  and  universal  condition  of  all  knowledge.  Hence  it  is  argued,  that  the 
act  of  consciousness  is  impossible  because  it  is  inconceivable  and  irrational.  It  violates,  as  is 
objected,  the  first  and  essential  requirement,  that  something  should  have  existed,  in  order  to 
be  known.  '  How  can  I  know  that  I  know,'  it  is  urged,  '  unless  I  have  first  known,  in  order 
to  furnish  an  object  for  me  to  know  ?  '  Or  it  is  concluded  that  consciousness  is,  at  best,  but  a 
kind  of  memory,  an  act  that  immediately  follows  the  act  or  state  of  which  we  are  said  to  be 
conscious.  "  No  one,"  says  Herbert  Spencer,  "  is  conscious  of  what  he  is,  but  of  what  he  was  a 
moment  before.  That  which  thinks,  can  never  be  the  object  of  direct  contemplation  ;  seeing 
that,  to  be  this,  it  must  become  that  which  is  thought  of,  not  that  which  thinks.  It  is  iinpoa. 
Bible  to  be  at-  the  same  time  that  which  regards  and  that  which  is  regarded."  Principle 
of  Psychology,  Part  i.  chap.  i.  p.  40.  Cf.  F.  Bowen,  Essays,  pp.  131,  2.  Merian,  sur  VApper- 
option,  etc.  Th«  force  of  this  objection  is  in  the  pure  assumption,  that  every  thing  wrhich  i* 


90  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §77 

known  must  have  already  existed.  But  this  assumption  is  unauthorized.  It  is  dei  ired  from 
a  supposed  analogy  between  this  and  other  acts  of  knowledge.  It  by  no  means  follows, 
lifc«usc  the  landscape  must  have  existed  before  we  see  it,  or  the  mental  i.tate  must  have 
occurred  before  we  remember  it,  that  a  perception  or  feeling  must  be  past  before  we  can  be 
conscious  of  it.  Whatever  we  experience  of  a  mode  of  knowing,  must  be  real,  whether  it  is 
I'ke  or  unlike  any  other,  provided  only  that  we  are  sure  that  we  have  to  do  with  facts,  not  with 
.ancies.  Besides,  how  can  one  remember  that  which  he  did  not  know  at  the  time  when  it 
occurred  ?  How  can  one  recall  the  state  in  which  he  was  a  moment  before,  and  know  that  h€ 
was  in  that  state,  if  he  did  not  know  he  was  in  that  state  at  the  precise  and  passing  instant  ? 
Those  that  resolve  acts  of  consciousness  into  acts  of  memory,  make  memory  itself  impossible, 
however  closely  it  is  said  to  follow  the  act  which  is  remembered.  We  cannot  recall  the  act 
itself,  nor  that  it  was  our  own  act,  unless  we  knew  both,  when  the  act  occurred. 

Peculiar  in  the  §  76'  ^  is  also  objectecj>  *hat  tlie  veiT  language  by  which  w« 
language  by  seek  to  describe  an  act  of  consciousness,  proves  the  act  itself 

which    it  is  de-  .... 

scribed.  to  be  impossible.      The  act  of  knowing,  it  is  said,  is  ex- 

pressed by  one  phrase,  and  the  object  known  by  another.  They  cannot, 
therefore,  coincide  in  a  single  mental  state  or  experience,  as  is  demon- 
strated by  the  very  terms  in  which  we  seek  to  describe  the  impossible  phe- 
nomenon. The  phenomenon  is,  therefore,  refuted  by  the  logical  incompati- 
bility of  the  terms  which  describe  it.  To  this  it  is  sufficient  to  reply,  that 
when  we  say  we  know  that  we  know,  we  neither  assert  nor  imply  that 
the  act  of  knowing  is  separable  in  time  from  the  object  known.  We 
employ  two  phrases,  indeed,  as  we  often  employ  separate  words  to  designate 
what  we  distinguish  in  thought,  which  is  yet  undistinguished  in  time. 

It  is  a  most  important  maxim  in  philosophy,  without  which  we  may  almost  say  it  is  im- 
possible to  prosecute  philosophical  analysis  of  any  kind  with  effect  and  success,  that  there  are 
very  many  objects  which  we  can  distinguish  in  thought  and  describe  by  separate  words  and 
phrases,  which  cannot  be  separated  in  fact.  Thus  we  distinguish  the  length  from  the  breadth 
of  a  superficies  ;  but  both  belong  to  it,  and  if  one  is  absent,  neither  the  other,  nor  the  super- 
ficies itself,  can  have  any  being,  nor  can  either  be  logically  supposable.  We  also  distinguish 
the  color  from  the  extension,  and  both  from  the  hardness  of  a  material  body ;  but  neither  can 
exist,  nor  can  either  be  apprehended  apart.  The  truth  and  importance  of  this  maxim  we  are 
not  yet  prepared  to  discuss.  It  can  only  be  fully  appreciated  and  justified  after  a  profound 
and  subtle  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  all  analysis.  But  the  examples  cited  permit  a  sufficient 
answer  to  the  objection,  that  language  and  thought  prove  the  act  of  consciousness  to  be  impos- 
sible and  self-contradictory. 

Here,  too,  we  may  apply  the  principle  already  recognized,  that  the  language  by  which  we 
describe  mental  acts  and  states  was  originally  applied  to  the  properties  and  energies  of  mate- 
rial  objects.  When,  therefore,  we  would  express  or  describe  the  peculiar  act  by  which  the 
soul  knows  itself,  we  must  use  phrases,  and,  it  may  be,  figures  of  speech,  which  were  firsl 
applied  to  matter  and  sensible  things.  The  associations  and  expectations  which  are  proper 
to  the  one  species  of  knowledge,  should  never  be  allowed  to  disturb  our  faith  in  the  other. 
Least  of  all  should  an  objection  derived  from  the  mere  forms  and  figures  of  language  occasion 
the  slightest  difficulty  in  receiving  a  well-accredited  and  an  experienced  fact. 

§  77.  From  the  consideration  of  consciousness  the  act,  we 
pass  to  consciousness  the  object.  The  object  of  consciousness 
has  already  been  defined  to  be  an  act  or  state  of  the  soul 


§  78.  NATURAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  91 

more  exactly,  the  soul  acting  and  suffering  in  an  individual  state.  That 
such  an  object  should  be  peculiar  and  unlike  any  other,  we  are  prepared  to 
believe,  by  what  we  have  already  noticed  under  consciousness  as  an  act 
Other  peculiarities  will  reveal  themselves  to  a  closer  inspection, 

We  observe,  in  general,  that  the  phenomena  of  the  soul  arc 
un^^e  tne  phenomena  of  matter  in  this,  that  they  are  given 
to  observation  as  essentially  complex  even  in  their  greatest 
simplicity.  We  cite  some  examples  of  sense-phenomena.  We  observe  the 
flying  of  an  arrow,  the  shooting  of  a  star,  the  melting  of  gold,  the  singing 
of  a  bird,  the  odor  of  a  flower.  What  we  know  in  these  cases  by  direct 
intuition,  is  an  event  or  phenomenon  which  afterward,  by  a  reflective  pro- 
cess, we  refer  to  some  substance  or  subject,  and  in  which  we  detect  cer- 
tain necessary  relations  to  space.  The  flying,  the  shooting,  the  melting, 
the  singing,  we  refer  to  some  being  to  which  they  belong.  That  which  is 
necessarily  discerned  by  the  senses,  is  the  phenomenon  itself  as  a  simple 
event,  on  which  the  mind  may  rest  without  contemplating  it  under  any 
other  relation.  But  phenomena  of  the  soul  can  never  be  known  by  con- 
sciousness as  simple.  Every  state  or  condition  of  the  spirit  is  in  its  real 
nature,  and  must  be  actually  known  by  the  soul,  to  be  complex,  even  in  its 
extremest  simplicity.  This  object  is  threefold  in  its  elements,  every  one  of 
which  must  be  recognized  by  the  conscious  spirit.  The  elements  are,  the 
identical  ego,  either  agent  or  patient  according  as  the  case  may  be;  the 
object  with  respect  to  which  it  acts  or  suffers;  and  the  present  state  or 
action  in  which  it  exists  or  acts.  Every  psychical  state  of  which  we  are 
conscious  implies  an  acting  or  existing  ego,  to  which  the  state  pertains.  A 
condition  of  the  soul  without  an  individual  person  acting  or  feeling,  is 
impossible  as  a  conception,  and  is  never  experienced  as  a  fact.  Again,  this 
ego  is  known  to  be  in  a  definite  form  or  condition  of  action  or  suffering. 
The  states  are  transient,  the  agent  remains.  The  states  are  as  fleeting  and 
as  transitory  as  the  flying  moments ;  indeed,  they  come  and  go  more 
swiftly  than  any  instants  which  we  can  count ;  the  individual  self  remains 
unchanged,  referring  all  these  changes  to  itself.  Again,  the  ego,  in  its 
acting  and  suffering,  is  concerned  with  some  object.  It  must  have  some 
object  to  be  employed  upon,  either  material  or  mental.  One  state  is  as 
often  distinguished  from  another  by  its  object,  as  by  any  thing  beside. 
These  are  the  elements  which  make  up  that  complex  whole  which  we  call 
the  object  of  consciousness. 

Relation  of  con-  §  ?8-  ^  is  a  natural  question,  What  is  the  relation  of  con 
elc°hsilofs  these  sciousness  to  each  of  these  essential  constituents,  as  com- 
bined together  in  one  general  view,  or  as  each  calls  forth 
special  and  separate  attention  ?  To  this  question  we  give  this  general 
preliminary  answer :  The  soul,  in  consciousness,  is  directly  cognizant  of  all 
these  elements,  as  entering  into  every  one  of  its  states.  It  knows  them 
as  distinguishable  from  one  another,  and  yet  as,  in  their  union,  consti 


92  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  78. 

tuting  a  single  whole.  The  whole  is  constituted  of  all  theso  elements ; 
each  as  related  to  each  and  every  other  make  up  a  state  of  the  soul.  To 
any  such  state  one  element  is  as  necessary  as  another,  and  one  relation 
is  as  necessary  as  another  to  the  conception  and  as  essential  to  the  fact. 
Of  these  elements  and  these  relations  the  soul  is  equally  cognizant. 

Here  we  observe  that,  hi  an  act  of  direct  or  intuitive  knowledge  like  consciousness,  it  is  af 
essential  that  the  connecting  bonds  should  be  apprehended,  as  the  parts  which  they  bind  or 
connect.  In  abstract  or  logical  knowledge,  the  parts  are  considered  separately,  and  to  each 
we  assign  a  separate  word  or  phrase ;  but  in  real  knowledge  the  parts  are  viewed  together. 
The  verbal  expression  of  a  mental  state  is  not  a  single  word,  as  /,  perceive  [or]  love,  this  apple, 
each  apprehended  apart,  and  then  somehow  aggregated  into  a  phrase  or  proposition  ;  but  it  is 
a  finished  proposition,  in  all  its  parts  and  relations,  as,  I  perceive  [or  love]  this  apple.  In 
other  words,  we  can  analyze  or  separate  only  what  the  concrete  or  real  presents  in  union.  It 
the  parts  and  connecting  relations  are  not  discerned  together  by  an  intuitive  act,  they  can 
neither  be  separated  nor  united  by  any  other  act  or  process.  The  objects  known  by  conscious- 
ness are  intuitively  known.  All  the  materials  which  mediate  or  abstract  knowledge  evolve* 
from  these  objects,  the  objects  must  be  known  already  to  involve. 

Herbart,  and  the  psychologists  of  his  school,  deserve  especial  notice  in  this  connection.  This  philoso- 
pher contends  that  it  is  by  no  means  essential  to  every  mental  act  or  state  that  it  should  be  distinguished 
as  agent,  act,  and  object.  On  the  other  hand,  he  insists  that  the  reference  of  an  act  or  state  to  the  ego  as 
the  subject  of  it  can  only  occur  at  a  later  and  more  advanced  period  of  the  mind's  growth  and  development. 
It  is  the  doctrine  of  his  school  that  the  knowledge  of  such  an  ego  or  subject  is  itself  a  product  which  is  slowly 
developed  and  matured  out  of  the  materials  that  are  furnished  in  previous  mental  experiences  and  states. 
Last  of  all,  and  as  consistent  with  and  fundamental  to  their  other  positions,  they  teach  that  every  ele- 
mentary mental  state  is  simple  in  its  nature,  and  is  the  joint  result  of  the  mind  itself  as  a  simple  substance 
and  the  occasion  which  calls  it  forth. 

It  might  seem  at  the  first  view  that  these  opinions  cannot  justly  be  ascribed  to  the  influence  of  material 
analogies,  for,  against  these,  the  Hcrbartian  school  endeavors  to  secure  itself  by  a  principled  opposition. 
They  seem  to  rest  rather  on  Herbart'e  peculiar  logical  or  metaphysical  system,  which  resolves  all  beings, 
both  spiritual  and  corporeal,  into  ultimate  elements  or  monads,  the  various  relations  of  which  to  one 
another  are  to  be  so  determined  as  to  be  freed  from  all  contradiction.  Conjoined  with  this  are  certain 
assumptions  in  respect  to  the  conditions  and  laws  of  mental  phenomena,  both  in  original  apprehension 
and  reproduction,  which  exclude  the  possibility  of  the  complex  character  which  we  assume  to  be  the  neces- 
sary condition  of  every  mental  state. 

But  while  it  is  true  that  Herbart  is  professedly  and  distinctly  an  anti-materialist,  it  would  not  be  diffi- 
cult to  show  that  both  his  metaphysical  system  and  his  psychological  analyses  were  formed  under  a  strong 
desire  to  apply  to  mental  phenomena  the  principles  and  laws  on  which  the  physical  and  mathematical 
sciences  are  founded.  Indeed,  it  might  be  shown  that  the  Herbartian  psychology  furnishes  the  most 
striking  example,  because  it  is  at  once  the  most  consistent  and  complete  of  all  similar  systems,  of  the  influ- 
ence of  assumptions  derived  from  physical  philosophy.  While  it  aims  to  recognize  and  do  justice  to  the 
facts  and  phenomena  that  are  peculiar  to  the  soul — while  it  distinctly  recognizes  spiritual  phenomena  as 
opposed  to  the  material  and  physiological  conditions  on  which  they  depend— it  does,  by  the  principles  and 
Jaws  which  it  applies  to  their  explanation,  in  fact  exclude  and  rule  out  the  very  features  which  most  strik- 
ingly distinguish  the  phenomena  of  spirit  from  the  phenomena  of  matter.  Those  powers  and  operations  of 
the  soul,  on  the  other  hand,  which  are  most  nearly  allied  to  those  of  matter,  are  accepted  as  explaining  all 
the  rest;  which  are  resolved  into  and  reduced  back  to  these  as  furnishing  both  their  constituent  element* 
and  their  law-giving  formulae. 

It  is  here  in  place  to  notice  Herbart's  doctrine  concerning  the  simplicity  of  all  original  mental 
etatee,  and  the  subsequent  evolution,  from  such  states,  of  the  ego  as  their  subject.  We  argue  that  this 
doctrine  cannot  be  true,  on  the  ground  that,  if  it  were,  the  act  of  memory  would  be  impossible.  An  act  of 
remembrance  implies  that  a  present  state  is  connected  with  a  past  by  the  distinct  knowledge  that  the  same 
tgo  was  the  subject  of  both,  and  that  this  ego  has  continued  to  exist  and  be  the  subject  of  other  states  during 
ihe  interval  of  time  which  has  separated  the  two.  By  the  theory  of  Herbart,  memory  would  be  impossible 
iniil  the  mind  had  attained  to  the  knowledge  of  the  self,  as  distinguished  from,  and  yet  as  the  subject  of, 
Its  various  separate  states  ;  and  also  had  connected  these  states  together,  as  pertaining  to  an  identical  subject 
On  the  oth«-r  hand,  the  knowledge  of  the  ego  must  itself  depend  on  memory,  and  could  not  be  developed 
without  it ;  for  how  could  it  be  that  the  various  states  could  be  presented  in  such  a  way  as  to  evolve  the  self 


{J80.  NATURAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  93 

»nd  not  pelf,  and  even  the  body  and  the  not  body,  the  ego  and  not  ego,  unless  the  states  were  In  some  waj 
connected  together  by  some  thread  or  bond  of  continuity,  and  thus  so  blended  or  complicated  together  as  to 
form  wholes  and  parts?  Herbart  would  reply,  that  the  soul  is  a  simple  entity  or  substance,  and  that  it  i« 
its  simplicity  which  makes  it  possible  that  various  objects  or  stimuli  should  be  united  in  a  single  state.  But 
how  does  the  mind  know  itself  to  be  simple  or  in  a  state,  unless  it  can  distinguish  itself  from  its  states?  or 
how  can  it  know  its  states,  each  as  one,  and  all  as  following  each  other,  unless  it  knows  that  its  states  be. 
long  to  itself—  i.  e.,  unless  it  distinguish  its  states  from  itself.  In  the  order  that  marks  either  of  these  distinc- 
tions, it  must  first  know  that  these  states  are  true  of  itself—  i.  e.,  it  must  go  so  far  as  to  distinguish  itself  at  least 
from  its  own  acts.  This  must  be  done  by  an  original  apprehension,  or  it  cannot  be  done  at  all.  No  combina- 
tion of  elements  not  already  present,  no  repetition  or  addition  of  such  elements,  can  account  for  or  explain 
the  presence  of  what  is  acknowledged  in  the  later  stage  of  mental  development.  They,  must,  therefore,  havfl 
certainly  been  originally  present,  and  may  be  set  down  as  the  essential  constituents  of  every  mental  state, 


These  elements  *  tnollgh  these  elements  are  always  recognized  in 

Jdt!Shy8eiuai  eveiT  object  of  which  we  are  conscious  —  i.  e.,  in  every  con- 
attention.  scions  mental  state  —  they  are  not  regarded  with  equal  atten 

tion.  At  one  time  one  is  foremost  in  our  notice,  and  seems  to  draw  tfl 
itself  the  entire  energy  of  the  conscious  act  ;  at  another  time  another  ele- 
ment is  more  distinctly  apprehended.  According  as  one  or  other  of  these 
elements  receives  the  chief  attention  and  is  most  absorbing,  so  is  each 
state  of  consciousness  definitely  and  peculiarly  marked.  Tt  is  worth  while 
to  notice  how  more  or  less  of  the  recognized  prominence  of  any  one  of 
these  elements  gives  a  peculiar  character  to  the  psychical  state  as  observ- 
ing and  as  observed.  We  will  consider  the  influence  of  each  of  these  ele- 
ments singly  and  apart. 

8  80.  First,  let  the  soul's  own  activity  be  the  special  object 

The  activity  may     8     .  jj  .       r.  .    J, 

be   chiefly   no-    ot  its  own  conscious  observation.     We  begin  with  this,  be- 
cause all  concede  that  this  must  be  apprehended.     Indeed, 
many  contend  that  this  is  the  sole  object  of  the  conscious  act. 

The  soul's  own  acts  and  states  are  continually  changing,  and  if  it  is 
aware  of  any  thing,  it  is  aware  of  each  present  state  or  condition  in  which 
it  finds  itself.  With  this  material  or  object-matter  it  is  preeminently 
occupied.  These  it  observes  and  remembers,  and,  if  need  be,  classifies 
and  records.  Whether  it  knows  itself  or  not,  it  must  know  its  own  acting 
and  suffering.  The  states  come  and  go,  they  rise  and  fall,  they  are  vary- 
ing and  restless  as  the  waves  of  the  ocean,  each  pushing  forward  the  one 
that  went  before.  The  ego,  if  it  is  known  at  all,  is  known  as  persistent, 
intractable,  identical.  Moreover,  these  states  are  the  products  of  its  own 
energy,  or  the  suffering  or  joyful  experiences  of  its  own  sensibility.  What 
oan  it  be  conscious  of,  if  it  knows  not  these  ?  Whether  they  are  called 
states  of  knowledge,  feeling,  or  will,  each  separate  state  is  distinguished  by 
a  separate  apprehension.  For  these  reasons  it  will  not  be  doubted  that  th« 
operation  or  state  of  the  soul  is  the  appropriate  object  of  consciousness  — 
is  the  central  element,  the  element  par  eminence,  if  the  object  is  believed 
to  be  complex  ;  the  sole  object,  if  the  object  is  conceded  to  be  simple. 

The  fact  that  in  consciousness  we  are  observant  of  the  soul's  subjective  state,  was  first  distinctl> 
noticed  and  forcibly  stated  by  Locke.  Descartes,  before  him,  had  recognized  and  emphasized  the  truth  thai 
through  consciousness  we  are  as  distinctly  cognizant  of  spiritual  phenomena  as  we  are  of  physical  facts  by 
sense.  But  it  was  Locke  who  asserted  and  emphasized  the  circumstance  that  what  the  mind  apprehend* 


94  THE  HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §  ?0 

by  this  power,  i.  e.,  reflection,  is  the  soul's  operations,  and  that  it  is  of  these  operations,  and  only  of  tl  »c, 
that  it  gains  the  determinate  ideas  which  he  calls  the  ideas  of  reflection.  To  these  operations  Locke  gave  ex« 
elusive  attention,  including  under  them  the  feelings  as  well  as  the  acts,  {fatty  ii.  §  4,)  overlooking  their  re- 
lations to  the  agent  and  the  object.  Since  the  time  of  Locke,  it  has  passed  into  a  positive  dogma,  that 'he 
soul  in  consciousness  cognizes  the  operation  only,  and  nothing  besides.  Thus  Hume  says:  "For  my  part,  wh*a 
I  enter  most  intimately  into  what  I  call  myself,  I  always  stumble  on  some  particular  perception  or  other,  of 
heat  or  cold,  light  or  shade,  love  or  hatred,  pain  or  pleasure.  I  never  can  catch  myself  at  any  time  without 
a  perception,  and  never  can  observe  anything  but  the  perception.  "—Human  Nature,  Part  iv.  sec.  2.  "If  any 
one,  upon  serious  and  unprejudiced  reflection,  thinks  he  has  a  different  notion  of  himself,  I  must  confess  I 
can  no  longer  reason  with  him.  .  .  .  He  may,  perhaps,  perceive  something  simple  and  continued,  which 
ho  calls  himself,  though  I  am  certain  there  is  no  such  principle  in  me."  Dr.  Thomas  Reid  says :  "  I  am  con- 
scious of  perception,  but  not  of  the  object  I  perceive ;  1  am  conscious  of  memory,  but  not  of  the  object 
remember."  But  he  guards  himself  against  the  conclusion  drawn  by  Hume  from  their  common  assumption, 
oy  insisting  that,  though  consciousness  does  not  give  us  the  intuition  of  self,  yet  we  have  a  finn  belief  of 
the  reality  of  the  self,  through  a  native  and  necessary  suggestion,  for  "  our  sensations  and  thoughts  do 
also  suggest  the  notion  of  a  mind,  and  the  belief  of  its  existence  and  of  its  relation  to  our  thoughts."— In- 
quiry, chap.  ii.  §  7.  Dugald  Stewart  says  :  "  "We  are  conscious  of  sensation,  thought,  desire,  volition,  but  we 
are  not  conscious  of  the  existence  of  the  mind  itself.  This  is  made  known  to  us  by  a  suggestion  of  the 
understanding  consequent  on  the  sensation,  but  so  intimately  connected  with  it  that  it  is  not  surprising 
that  our  belief  of  both  should  be  generally  referred  to  the  same  origin." — Phil.  Essays,  p.  i.  e.  i.  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown  says  of  a  special  sensation,  as  of  fragrance:  "  There  will  be,  in  the  first  momentary  state,  no  separation 
of  self  and  the  sensation,  no  little  proposition  formed  in  the  mind — I  feel,  or,  I  am  conscious  of  a  feeling,  but 
the  feeling  and  the  sentient  7,  will  for  the  moment,  be  the  same.  If  the  remembrance  of  the  former  feeling 
arise,  and  the  two  different  feelings  be  considered  by  the  mind  at  once,  it  will  now,  by  that  irresistible  law 
of  our  nature  which  impresses  us  with  the  conviction  of  our  identity,  conceive  the  two  sensations  which  it 
recognizes  as  different  in  themselves,  to  have  belonged  to  the  same  human  being— that  being  to  which, 
when  it  has  the  use  of  language,  it  gives  the  name  of  self,  and  in  relation  to  which  it  speaks  as  often  as  it 
uses  the  pronoun  I."— Lecture  xi.  Hamilton  says :  "  On  the  other  hand,  as  there  exists  no  intuitive  or  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  self  as  the  absolute  subject  of  thought,  feeling  and  desire,  but,  on  the  contrary,  there  is 
only  possible  a  deduced,  relative  and  secondary  knowledge  of  self  as  the  permanent  basis  of  these  transient 
modifications  of  which  we  are  directly  conscious,  it  follows,"  &c. — Wotes  on  Reid,  (H.,)  p.  29, b.  This  doctrine 
is  entirely  consistent  with  Hamilton's  doctrine  of  the  relativity  of  our  knowledge,  however  incon- 
sistent it  may  be  with  other  separate  propositions  or  reasonings  of  Hamilton's. — Of.  Met.  Lee.  19,  on  Menial 
Unity.  Mansel  dissents  from  Hamilton  on  this  point.  See  Proleg.  Log.  c.  v.  "  I  am  immediately  conscious  of 
myself,  seeing  and  hearing,  willing  and  thinking."  James  Mill  agrees  with  Brown  etc.:  "  To  say  that  I  am 
conscious  of  a  feeling,  is  merely  to  say  that  I  feel  it.  To  have  a  feeling  is  to  be  conscious,  and  to  be  con- 
scious is  to  have  a  feeling.  To  be  conscious  of  the  prick  of  a  pin,  is  merely  to  have  the  sensation."— Analysts 
of  the  Human  Mind,  Chap.  v.  But  he  corrects  himself  in  another  passage,  as  follows :  "  The  consciousness 
of  the  present  moment  is  not  absolutely  simple,  for  whether  I  have  a  sensation  or  an  idea,  the  idea  of  what 
I  call  myself  is  always  inseparably  combined  with  it.  The  consciousness,  then,  of  the  second  ot  the  two 
moments  in  the  case  supposed,  [the  case  of  remembering  a  preceding  state,]  is  the  sensation  combined  with 
the  idea  of  myself,  which  compound  I  call '  myself  sentient, '"  &c. — Id.  Chap.  x.  John  Stuart  Mill  says,  in 
the  same  strain :  "  My  mind  is  but  a  series  of  feelings,"  and  defines  it  as,  "  a  thread  of  consciousness,"  "  a 
series  of  feelings  with  a  back-ground  of  possibilities  of  feeling." — Exam,  of  the  Phil,  of  Hamilton,  c.  12 ;  cf. 
System  of  Logic,  B.  i.  C.  iii.  §  8. 

The  psychologists  of  the  school  of  Condillac  ha?e  followed  in  the  same  direction  with  the  English  suc- 
cessors of  Locke,  and  have  denied  altogether  that  the  soul  is  directly  conscious  of  any  thing  besides  its  ope- 
rations. Those  taught  in  the  Scottish  school,  like  Royer  Collard,  have  adopted  the  views  expressed  by  Reid 
and  Stewart,  with  this  difference,  that  what  these  writers  ascribe  to  suggestion,  or  its  equivalent,  Collard 
refers  to  natural  induction.  The  more  modern  school  of  Cousin  and  his  eclectic  disciples,  follow  Mnine  de 
Biran  in  asserting  that  the  soul  has  a  direct  consciousness  of  the  ego,  as  well  as  of  the  ego  in  some  form  of 
activity  or  suffering.  This  is  one  of  their  cardinal  and  distinctive  tenets.  De  Biran  derived  his  views  from 
the  suggestions  of  Leibnitz,  and  this  circumstance  connects  the  schools  of  France  with  those  of  Germany. 

The  German  psychologists  have,  with  the  exceptions  to  be  stated  hereafter,  agreed  with  Leibnitz  in 
asserting  that  the  soul  knows  not  only  its  states,  but  itself  as  their  subject  in  feeling  and  their  agent  in  pro- 
ducing them.  In  the  unity  of  self-consciousness  the  soul  knows  itself  as  well  as  its  acts  and  states.  Without 
this  reference  of  the  states  of  the  soul  to  the  ego  which  is  the  subject  of  them,  consciousness  is  inconceivable 
and  impossible.  Kant  asserts  this  as  a  fact  of  our  experience  and  a  necessity  of  our  nature  as  fiarnestly  as 
any  one,  even  though  he  questions  the  validity  of  the  knowledge  which  is  thus  made  necessary  to  the  mind. 
He  is  entirely  outspoken  and  confident  when  ae  testifies  concerning  the  facts  which  we  experience,  even 
tbouch  he  finds  metaphysical  reasons  for  diP4/usting  what  we  are  certain  that  we  distinguish  and  know.  It 
Is  trap  that  this  self  of  the  "inner  state,"  ^t  which,  according  to  Kant,  we  are  conscious,  is  only  known  as  a 
phenomenon,  and  cannot  (as  indeed  nothing  can,  according  to  his  system)  be  known  as  it  is  in  itsdf." 

Beneke  and  Herbart  are  the  most  noticeable  exceptions  to  this  general  characteristic  of  tne  Germar 


g81.  NAtFEA.L   CONSCIOUSNESS.  95 

psychologists,  and  of  these,  Herbart  has  been  most  conspicuous  in  sturdily  and  even  scornfully  i  ejecting  th« 
doctrines  on  this  subject  that  are  usually  received.  Indeed,  his  views  in  respect  to  consciousness  itself; 
would  change  completely  our  fundamental  notions  of  the  science  of  the  soul,  and  require  that  in  its  method! 
of  inquiry  and  the  sources  of  its  knowledge  it  should  be  entirely  reconstructed.  Herbart  rejects  entirely  the 
Dpinionthat  the  soul  can  be  at  the  same  time  the  observing  agent  and  the  observed  object.  Heinsiets  thatthia 
is  logically  contradictory,  and  metaphysically  impossible.  He  therefore  denies  that  the  soul  knows  its  own 
states  in  any  proper  sense  of  being  directly  aware  of  them  when  they  occur.  What  we  call  consciousness, 
U  but  reflective  memory.  Much  more,  therefore,  must  Herbarfc  reject,  as  he  does  most  contemptuously,  the 
doctrine  that  the  soul  refers  these  states  to  the  ego  or  the  personal  and  identical  self.  He  insists  that  the 
belief  of  the  ego,  and  even  the  very  conception  of  the  ego  as  the  subject  of  the  psychical  states,  is  an  after- 
thought, the  mature  product  of  comparison  and  reflection,  gained  not  by  suggestion,  nor  by  deduction, 
nor  by  a  necessary  and  original  law,  but  reached  by  comparison  and  analogy. 

§  81.  Second.  Of  the  ego  itself  we  are  also  directly  con- 
Oonsciousness  of  scious.  Not  only  are  we  conscious  of  the  varying  states  and 

Vie  ego. 

conditions,  but  we  know  them  to  be  our  own  states;  i.  e., 
each  individual  observer  knows  his  changing  individual  states  to  belong  to 
his  individual  self,  or  to  himself,  the  individual.  The  states  we  know  as 
varying  and  transitory.  The  self  we  know  as  unchanged  and  permanent. 

It  is  of  the  very  nature  and  essence  of  a  psychical  state  to 

Involved  in  the     _         ,  .  ^  .     -..    .  -,       -,  -m- 

nature  of  a  psy-  be  the  act  or  experience  of  an  individual  ego.  We  are  not 
first  conscious  of  the  state  or  operation,  and  then  forced  to 
look  around  for  a  something  to  which  it  is  to  be  referred,  or  to  which  it 
may  belong ;  but  what  we  know,  and  as  we  know  it,  is  the  state  of  an 
individual  person.  A  mental  state  which  is  not  produced  or  felt  by  an 
individual  self,  is  as  inconceivable  as  a  triangle  without  three  angles,  or  a 
square  without  four  sides.  This  relation  of  the  act  or  state  to  the  self  is 
not  inferred,  but  is  directly  known. 

If  it  were  not  directly  known,  it  could  not  be  indirectly 
could  not  be  in-  believed  or  inferred.  What  we  infer  and  conclude  is,  in 
some  cases,  the  product,  or  the  educt,  or  result,  of  the  mind's 
activity  in  comparing  and  inferring  ;  but  we  cannot  conceive  how  that  the 
soul  should  conclude  or  infer  operations  and  states  to  belong  to  itself  the 
observer,  if  it  did  not  know  this  by  direct  inspection. 

The  fact  of  memory  proves  it  beyond  all  dispute.  In  every 
ac^  °^  ]Q3eiriory  we  know  °r  believe  that  the  object  now  re- 
called was  formerly  before  the  mind  ;  in  other  words,  I,  the 
person  remembering,  did  previously  know  or  experience  that  which  I  now 
recall.  But  how  could  this  be  possible,  if  the  first  act  or  state  was  not 
known,  when  it  occurred,  to  belong  to  the  same  ego  which  now  recalls  it 
and  must  have  existed  and  have  known  itself  to  exist  during  the  interven- 
ing time  ?  This  same  ego  must  have  known  or  been  conscious  that  the 
state  was  its  own  when  it  occurred  ;  otherwise  it  could  never  have  remem- 
bered this  state.  But  again,  many  acts  of  memory  are  required  in  order 
to  gather  the  past  operations  or  states  together,  before  they  are  inferred 
to  belong  to  one  substance  or  substratum.  In  order  to  infer,  we  must 
have  remembered ;  and  in  order  to  remember,  or  rather  in  the  act  of 
remembering,  we  must  have  believed  the  very  thing  which  we  are  said  to 


90  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §82 

infer.  Nor  is  it  true  that,  on  occasion  of  many  of  these  operations,  the 
reality  of  the  subject  of  these  operations  is  suggested  or  provided  under  a 
necessary  law  of  the  intelligence  or  reason ;  for  how  could  these  opera 
tions  be  recalled  without  memory  ?  and  memory,  as  we  have  seen,  implies 
the  constant  reassertion  of  the  very  knowledge  which  is  in  question. 

It  will  be  found,  moreover,  that  all  those  writers  who  deny  or  doubt  this,  do  yet  inci 
Admitted  by  dentally  betray  their  faith  in  the  reality  "which  they  by  words  or  reasonings  oppose, 
those  who  deny  Dr.  Brown,  who  is  so  earnest  in  opposing  it,  cannot  thread  together  the  several  experiences 
**•  of  the  soul's  life,  without  resorting  to  "  the  irresistible  law  of  our  nature  which  impresses 

us  with  the  conviction  of  our  identity,"  and  James  Mill  himself  is  forced  in  one  sentence 
to  confess  what  he  stoutly  denied  in  another ;  "  for  whether  I  have  a  sensation  or  an  idea,  the  Mea  of  what 
I  call  myself,  is  always  inseparably  combined  with  it."  These  are  more  or  less  distinct  expressions  for  the 
direct  knowledge  of  the  ego  which  enters  as  an  essential  constituent  into  every  conscious  state  of  the  soul. 

When  we  assert  that  the  soul  is  conscious  of  itself,  the  actor,  as  truly  as  of  its  states  01 
The  relations  to  ac^.gj  we  ^y  no  means  assert  that  it  makes  the  ego  an  object  of  attention  or  reflective 
ways^0  reflected  thought,  or  that  it  gains  a  scientific  knowledge  of  its  states  or  of  its  powers.  Both  these 
on.  kinds  of  knowledge  are  reserved  for  a  higher  development  and  exercise  of  consciousness 

itself,  as  will  be  seen  in  its  place. 

It  has  already  been  observed,  that  the  knowledge  of  the  self,  or  the  ego,  which  is  essentially  involved  in 
natural  consciousness,  is  also  susceptible  of  various  degrees,  whicn  range  from  the  feeblest  and  most  rudi- 
mentary cognition  which  the  soul  can  possibly  have  of  itself,  up  to  the  most  intense  self-consciousness  which 
can  be  reached  by  the  most  attentive  introspection.  The  consciousness  of  the  self,  or  ego,  as  it  admits  ol 
various  gradations,  is  also  capable  of  development  and  growth,  not  in  the  sense  that  the  ego,  or  self,  is  the 
product  of  a  certain  stage  of  the  progress  of  intelligence  so  as  not  to  have  existed  before,  but  that  it  is 
revealed  to  the  mind  more  distinctly  and  in  more  numerous  relations,  as  the  requisite  attention  is  applied. 

Least  of  all  do  we  assert  that  the  soul  is  directly  conscious  of  that,  in  its 

The  Ego,  not  the  being  or  substance,  which  fits  it  to  be  the  common  ground  or  substratum  of 
whole  substance 

of  the  soul.  its  physical  as  well  as  its  psychical  phenomena,  or  which  explains  the  rela- 

tions of  the  two.  Consciousness  knows  nothing  of  the  hidden  relations 
of  the  soul  to  the  body.  Facts  and  relations  of  this  sort  are  not  given  to  consciousness  at  all, 
nor  are  they  open  to  the  soul's  direct  intuition.  But  whatever  theory  may  be  framed  in 
respect  to  the  substance  of  the  soul,  whether  it  be  believed  to  be  material  or  spiritual,  the  fact 
remains  unquestioned  that  it  knows  its  states  to  be  its  own,  and  in  this  knowledge  knows 
itself  as  the  subject  of  them.  Whatever  relation  this  known  ego  has  to  this  imagined  sub- 
stratum or  essence,  the  fact  remains  unquestioned  that  the  ego,  as  a  being,  is  directly  known 
to  and  by  itself  as  a  knowing  agent.  Ho  far,  and  so  far  only,  does  consciousness  testify. 

§  82.  Third,  we  inquire  still  further,  What  are  the  relations1 
°^  consciousness  to  the  objects  of  the  psychical  acts  and 
states  ?  Is  the  soul  conscious  of  the  objects  as  truly  as  it  is 
of  the  states  themselves  ?  When  I  gaze  upon  a  landscape,  and  am  de- 
lighted, am  I  conscious  of  the  landscape  which  I  see,  as  truly  as  I  am  con- 
scious of  the  act  of  seeing  and  of  the  delight  which  it  gives  ?  It  is  con- 
tended by  some  that  we  are  as  truly  and  as  properly  said  to  be  conscious 
of  the  object  as  of  the  subjective  state.  Others  urge  that  it  is  a  gross 
impropriety  to  say  that  we  are  conscious  of  the  landscape,  except  in  tl-e 
general  sense  in  which  we  use  conscious  as  the  equivalent  of  knowing.  (§  68.) 
The  truth  is,  that  we  are  conscious  of  the  object  somewhat  as  we  are 
conscious  of  the  ego.  The  state  or  operation  is  the  central  object  of  ap- 
prehension ;  but  as  the  state  cannot  occur  nor  be  known  except  as  having 


§  83.  NATURAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  97 

a  relation  to  the  unchanging  ego,  so  each  separate  state  is  rendered  deter 
mmate  in  part  by  its  object.  This  is  especially  true  if  the  state  be  pre- 
eminently a  state  of  knowledge.  We  distinguish  one  state  of  knowledge 
from  another  by  what  we  know ;  e.  g.,  in  one  moment  I  perceive  a  tree, 
in  another  a  house,  etc.  How  can  I  be  conscious  that  I  perceive  a  bouse 
or  a  tree,  except  by  noticing  the  relation  of  the  act  itself  to  the  house  or 
tree? 

We  do  not  say  that  the  whole  difference  of  a  psychical  state  is  thus  determined  ;  for,  to 
see  a  house  may,  purely  as  an  act  of  knowledge,  differ  from  the  act  of  discerning  that  two 
straight  lines  cannot  enclose  a  space.  Besides,  an  act  of  knowledge  never  can  occur  by  itself, 
pure  and  separate  from  all  feeling,  desire,  and  will.  States  of  feeling  and  will  are  known  to 
be  purely  subjective,  and  to  pertain  to  the  soul  itself,  and  to  the  soul  alone.  These  subjective 
elements  attract  the  notice  of  consciousness  preeminently,  and  these  mark  and  individualize 
them  to  the  soul's  memory.  But  when  they  are  described  in  language  or  recalled  to  the 
thoughts  by  an  explicit  statement,  they  are  described  by  their  objects.  Even  the  state  of  the 
most  absorbed  feeling  is  indicated  by  the  object  or  event  which  excited  the  emotion.  We 
pay,  '  I  was  conscious  that  I  saw  the  tree,  or  clearly  discerned  the  mathematical  truth,'  or,  '  I 
was  conscious  of  keen  and  rapturous  delight  from  the  view  or  the  anticipation.'  We  cannot 
conceive  it  possible  that  we  should  know  that  we  know,  enjoy,  or  choose,  without  knowing 
what  we  know,  enjoy,  or  choose.  In  other  words,  in  being  conscious  of  an  act  or  state,  we 
must  be  conscious  of  the  state  or  act  in  relation  to,  and  as  therefore  including  the  object. 

From  the  fact  that  we  cannot  be  conscious  of  the  operation  without  being  conscious  of  its  relation  to 
the  object,  Hamilton  reasons  thus :  "  Consequently  consciousness  is  not  a  special  faculty,  but  a  faculty 
comprehending  every  cognitive  act,  or  it  must  be  held  that  there  is  a  double  knowledge  of  every  object — 
first,  the  knowledge  of  that  object  by  its  particular  faculty,  and  second,  a  knowledge  of  it  by  consciousness 
as  taking  cognizance  of  every  mental  operation." — Met.  Lee.  12.  To  this  we  may  reply,  the  dilemma  is 
avoided  by  conceding  that  in  every  case  of  the  kind  adduced,  viz.:  in  every  act  of  sense-perception,  we 
perceive  the  table  or  ink-stand,  and  we  know,  i.  «.,  we  are  conscious,  that  we  perceive  the  ink-stand.  These 
two  acts  are  distinguishable  in  thought,  though  not  separable  in  fact.  This  Hamilton  himself  concedes  and 
contends  for.  But  we  cannot  perceive  the  table,  without  recognizing  some  relation  of  the  act  to  the  object. 
Nor  can  we  be  conscious  of  the  act  of  perception,  without  being  aware  of  some  relation  of  the  object  perceived 
to  the  act  of  perceiving.  When  the  chief  energy  of  attention  is  expended  upon  the  object — the  material 
object — not  without  some  recognition  of  its  correlate,  the  act  of  perceiving,  then  we  have,  as  nearly  as  possi- 
ble, a  pure  act  of  sense-perception.  Cut  when  the  mind  is  mainly  concerned  with  the  act,  not  to  the  e-atire 
exclusion  of  the  object,  then  the  act  is  as  nearly  as  possible  an  act  of  pure  consciousness.  Or  if  we  suppose  the 
same  object,  the  table,  to  be  continuously  an  object  of  sense-perception,  and  the  attention  to  be  varied  from 
the  process  to  the  object,  and  conversely :  then  perception  alternates  with  consciousness,  the  one  never 
excluding  the  other,  as  is  provided  for  in  onr  definition,  and  as  is  attested  by  experience.  As  to  the  ques- 
tion whether  consciousness  is  a  special  faculty,  Hamilton  himself  concedes  all  that  any  one  need  coi.tend 
for,  when  he  says,  {Lee.  13) :  "  We  admit  at  once,  that  were  the  question  merely  whether  we  should  no.  dis- 
tinguish under  consciousness,  two  special  faculties — whether  we  should  not  study  apart,  and  bestow  distir  stive 
appellations  on  consciousnes  considered  as  more  particularly  cognizant  of  the  external  world,  and  on  con- 
sciousness as  more  particularly  cognizant  of  the  internal — this  would  be  highly  proper  and  expedient."-  -4Cf. 
Lee.  29.)  The  question  is  then  one  of  nomenclature— (A)  is  consciousness  to  be  used  as  a  generic  tenn= 
knowledge,  of  which  the  two,  sense-perception  and  self-consciousness,  or  consciousness,  are  species ;  07  (B) 
is  the  appropriate  generic  term  knowledge,  with  the  two  or  more  species  under  it,  sense- perception,  con- 
sciousness, etc.,  being  coordinate  with  one  another?  Hamilton's  theoretical  answer  to  this  question  is  ignite 
inconsistent  with  his  practice.  In  his  theory  he  gives  the  answer  (A) ;  in  his  practical  use  of  the  terms  and 
treatment  of  the  subject,  he  follows  (B). 

summary  re-  §  83*  ^e  conc^u^e  then,  thus :  The  object  of  consciousness 
specting  the  ob-  jg  a  state  or  act  of  the  soul ;  this  state  or  act  must  occur  or 

lect  of  conscious-  ' 

uess-  exist  in  order  that  it  may  be  known  ;  but  it  does  not  ex:st 

before  it  is  known  in  the  order  of  time,  but  only  in  the  ordei  of  depend- 

7 


98  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §84. 

ence,  or  of  ogical  necessity.  So  far  as  the  order  of  time  is  concerned,  it 
exists  while  it  is  known.  But  what  is  known  of  this  object  must  depend 
on  the  nature  of  the  matter  to  be  known,  and  also  on  the  reach  or  capacity 
of  consciousness  in  its  attentive  inspection. 

A  psychical  act  or  state,  as  we  have  seen,  is  in  its  nature  complex,  con- 
sisting of  three  elements  in  intimate  relation  to  each  other:  the  ego ;  the 
object ;  the  acting  or  suffering  of  the  passing  moment.  But  the  act  or 
suffering  is  inconceivable,  except  as  belonging  to  the  ego  and  occasioned 
by  the  object.  Of  this  double  relation  consciousness  must  take  notice.  It 
must,  therefore,  also  take  notice  of  the  terms  or  elements  to  which  it  is 
related. 

8  84.  We  observe  still  further,  that  consciousness  the  object, 

The     object     of     '  «•••»*« 

consciousness  IB  as  contradistinguished  trom  consciousness  the  act,  is  a  state  or 
condition  of  being,  as  contrasted  with  an  act  of  knowledge. 
It  has  already  been  asserted,  that,  to  know,  supposes  and  requires  being 
as  its  objective  correlate.  The  being,  known  by  consciousness,  is  a  spirit- 
ual being,  a  permanent  identical  agent  or  producer  of  states  and  acts 
which  are  known ;  i.  e.,  a  being  in  the  eminent  and  higher  sense,  substan- 
tial or  real  being  (cf.  P.  IV.  c.  vii).  This  the  mind  knows  to  be,  or  to  exist, 
by  a  direct  or  immediate  act  of  its  own.  Consciousness  as  an  act,  is  the 
energy  of  a  knowing  or  thinking  agent.  Consciousness  as  an  object,  is  the 
spiritual  being  discriminated  from  the  act  by  which  it  is  known,  and  dis- 
criminated as  a  being  which  is  apprehended  really  to  exist.  In  every  state 
of  consciousness,  knowledge  is  directly  confronted  with  being  in  the  same 
psychical  state,  and  the  being  which  is  known  is  affirmed  to  be  identical 
with  the  being  which  knows. 

The  saying  of  Descartes,  Cogito.  ergo  sum,  has  preeminent 

Special     import  .  -.       ,      .  ,. 

of  cogito,  ergo  propriety  and  obvious  truth  when  applied  to  the  act  of  con- 
sciousness. It  means  more  than,  I  find  myself  a  thinking 
being,  and  therefore  I,  the  thinking  being,  exist ;  but  it  means  conscius  sum, 
that  is,  I  know  directly  the  activities  of  a  being,  which  being  is  myself ; 
its  existence  I  directly  apprehend  and  affirm.  It  has  been  said  with  emi- 
nent truth  that  absolute  skepticism  is  incompatible  with  the  act  of  con- 
Bciousness  ;  because,  if  I  doubt  or  question  any  reality,  or  whatever  reality 
I  doubt  or  question,  I  cannot  doubt  or  question  that  I  myself  doubt  or 
question.  The  same  truth  is  more  strikingly  confirmed  by  the  view 
already  taken,  that  in  consciousness  as  the  act  there  must  be  present  and 
known  consciousness  as  the  object ;  and  this  object  is  a  substantial  exist- 
ing being,  known  or  affirmed  by  the  "ery  act  of  consciousness  to  exist. 

Not  only  is  absolute  skepticism  excluded  by  the  analysis  of  the  act  of  con- 
eex"     8ciousness»  ^ut  absolute  idealism  is  excluded  as  truly  and  as  effectually.     The 
object  of  consciousness  is  not  a  thought-object,  but  a  thing-object.      The 
being  known  is  not  a  phantasm,  or  notion,  or  spiritual  product,  but  it  is  a 
substance,  the  self,  or  ego,  existing  in  some  definite  state  or  condition     In  consciousness,  I  pnj 


§85.  NATURAL    CONSCIOUSNESS.  99 

confronted  not  with  a  thought,  but  with  a  being.  Whatever  else  :nay  be  unreal  —  whethei 
idea,  phantasm,  or  speculation;  this  acting  and  suffering  self  is  a  reality  —  not  a  mere 
phenomenon  as  contrasted  with  a  transcendental  ego,  nor  an  ego  inferred,  assumed,  or  sug 
gested,  but  an  ego  directly  known  to  be. 

The  mind,  in  an  act  of  consciousness,  does  not  create  the  state  or  conditioi 
aot6<loe3  n^Tcre-     which  it  knows  to  be.     It  only  creates  the  act,  so  far  as  it  knows  the  act  01 


state  to  be<  That  which  is  known>  is  Produced  by  another  activity  of  the 
same  being.  The  states  or  conditions  of  being  of  which  we  are  conscious 
often  spring  up  unexpectedly,  as  it  were,  beneath  our  feet,  or  they  break  in  upon  the  field 
of  view  unannounced,  and  they  are  often  very  unwelcome.  Often  their  existence  and  presence 
are  beyond  our  control.  The  being  of  whose  states  we  are  conscious  is  also  often  in  no  sense 
\u  actor  or  producer,  but  a  sufferer  and  receiver.  In  such  suffering  and  passive  conditions 
of  being,  the  most  obvious  of  which  are  bodily  sensations,  the  being  which  we  know,  is  easily 
ind  strikingly  contrasted  with  the  acts  by  which  it  is  conscious  of  its  passive  or  recipient  con- 
dition, if  it  be  not  known  as  acted  upon  by  other  beings  also. 

§   85.    The  reality  and  validity  of  being  is  not  only  thus 

Validity  of  rela-  -IT-I-II  •          i  '    i     •         i  i 

tions  also  estab-  established,  because  involved  in  the  apprehension  of  con- 
sciousness, but  the  relations  of  being  are  as  necessarily  af- 
firmed in  the  same  activity.  The  several  states  of  the  soul  are  not  only 
discriminated  as  diverse  from  one  another,  but  they  are  known  to  be  like 
and  unlike.  They  are  also  known  to  be  produced  by  the  soul  which  is 
conscious,  or  knows,  that  they  exist  ;  that  is,  they  are  known  under  the 
relation  of  causation. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  we  need  not  wonder  that  even  the 
The  soul  a  mi-  ancient  philosophers  counted  the  human  soul,  thus  known 

3rocosm* 

by  and  to  itself,  to  be  a  microcosm  or  epitome  of  the  great 
universe.  In  the  spirit  of  man,  and  in  the  exercise  of  the  simplest  and 
the  most  essential  of  its  powers,  thought  and  being  •,  are  both  conjoined; 
the  one  is  confronted  with  the  other,  the  one  is  essential  to  the  other. 
Thought  is  perpetually  springing  out  of  being,  and  apprehending  being  to 
exist  —  not  only  simple  being,  but  being  in  all  its  forms  of  activity  and  the 
relations  which  they  involve. 

We  shall  not  be  surprised  to  find  that  all  the  conceptions  which  are  necessary 

All  the  catego-     to  scientific  knowledge  —  those  categories  which  cannot  be  proved,  but  which 

ries  involved  m 

consciousness.        must  be  assumed  —  those  prime  relations  and  first  truths  on  which  all  our 

higher  intelligence  of  matter  or  spirit  depends,  are  affirmed  of  spiritual  being 
in  the  act  of  consciousness  itself.  It  is  natural  to  man  to  make  himself  the  measure  of  the 
universe  —  i.  e.,  to  take  the  little  universe  of  being,  which  he  knows  so  directly  and  so  well, 
with  the  relations  involved,  to  be  the  analogon  of  the  greater  universe  which  lies  beyond,  and 
which  is  more  indirectly  known.  At  all  events,  whatever  relations  and  fact?  he  finds  it  neces> 
sury  to  affirm  of  his  own  being,  he  will  not  hesitate  to  apply  to  the  whole  universe  without. 
This  is  the  process  by  which  many  explain  our  belief  in  these  categories  or  first  truths. 

Many  go  further,  and  find  not  only  in  this  microcosm  an  image  of  the  largei 
Man  assumed  to  finite  universe  beyond,  but  also  an  analogon  of  its  Creator.  As  man  in  con- 
God.  sciousness  thinks  this  world  of  being  into  thought,  thus  producing  a  thought 

world  by  his  creative  power,  under  the  limitations  which  are  imposed  by  the 
materials,  both  objective  and  subjective,  which  his  nature  as  existing  and  knowing,  impose 


100  THE    HUMAtf   INTELLECT. 

upon  hi  n,  it  is  only  needful  for  him  to  conceive  these  limits  removed,  and  he  forms  to  himself 
a  conception  of  the  God  in  whose  image  he  was  made :  and  by  the  fact  that  he  exists  in  His 
image  he  is  able  to  understand  the  properties  and  laws  of  the  universe  of  both  matter  and 
mind  as  he  interprets  in  them  the  thoughts  of  its  Creator. 

§  86.  It  has  been  already  stated  that  consciousness,  though 
of  natural  and  necessary  to  every  human  soul  whose  powers  are 

normaiiy  developed,  is  not  exercised  at  the  beginning  of  its 
existence,  but  only  after  certain  conditions  and  stages  of  growth  have 
been  attained,  and  the  power  to  apply  them  has  been  matured.  The  order 
of  this  development  and  maturity  may  be  sketched  as  follows : 

The  first  activities  are  those  of  simple  life.     These,  whether  they  pertain  to, 
the  body  or  the  soul,  are  unconscious.     All  forms  of  reflex  nerve-action,  all 
Kxmsciouslife.     ^e  pureiy  instinctive  movements  of  either  body  or  soul,  or  of  both  com- 
bined, are  known  to  be  unattended  by  conscious  apprehension.     But  all  these 
activities  are  exercised  in  great  number  and  for  a  long  time  before  the  experience  of  sensations. 
As  soon  as  a  sensation  occurs,  whether  painful  or  pleasant,  it  must  be  felt. 
Sensations    and     It  is  essential  to  its  very  nature  to  be  experienced  by  a  sentient  being,  and  to 
self-feeling.  ^e  fe]j.  ag  pajnfui  or  pleasant.     This  experience,  whether  in  man  or  animal, 

involves  some  sort  of  possible  apprehension  of  self  as  the  subject  of  its  pain  or 
pleasure.  This  is  not  consciousness,  real  or  possible,  as  we  use  the  term,  but  only  conscious- 
ness in  its  lowest  and  most  rudimentary  form.  By  some  it  is  called  the  feeling  as  distin- 
guished from  the  knowledge  of  self,  or  self-feeling  in  its  beginnings.  In  order  that  conscious- 
ness  in  its  lowest  stage  should  occur,  the  several  sensations  should  not  only  be  experienced,  but 
they  must  be  discriminated  from  one  another  as  this  and  that,  the  sensation  as  now  and  then, 
the  sensation  as  sweet  and  bitter,  cold  and  hot ;  and  this  sensation  of  sweet,  that  sensation 
of  bitter,  etc.,  etc.  As  long  as  the  sensations  are  confused  together,  and  are  not  discriminated, 
whether  they  are  weak  or  strong,  the  soul  remains  in  this  elementary  condition  of  comparative 
unconsciousness.  This  is  the  condition  of  the  infant.  It  is  also  the  condition  into  which  the  de- 
veloped man  relapses  in  swooning,  distraction,  intoxication,  or  approaching  sleep.  In  the  infant 
such  a  condition  cannot  be  remembered,  for  reasons  which  we  will  give  in  their  place  (§  295). 
The  man  can  recall  it  but  dimly,  and  only  as  he  measures  and  imagines  the  state,  by  contrast 
with  those  of  which  he  is  distinctly  conscious,  and  which  he  can  clearly  recall. 

But  when  the  several  sensations  are  discriminated  from  one  another,  the  soul 
Sensations  dis-  reaches  a  higher  stage.  But  even  this  does  not  involve  consciousness,  unless 
criminated.  tne  sensations  are  also  discriminated  from  the  self  to  which  they  pertain. 

Observation  attests  that  the  one  is  possible  without  the  other.  Even  the 
external  objects  that  occasion  the  sensations,  may  be  distinguished  from  one  another  and  from 
the  sensations  which  attend  them,  before  the  soul  distinctly  recognizes  the  sensations  as  its 
own.  No  fact  is  more  patent  to  universal  observation,  than  that,  in  infancy  and  childhood, 
man  is  occupied  with  the  objective,  with  very  infrequent  cognition  of  se!f  as  contrasted  with 
his  sensations  or  their  objects,  or  the  impulse  that  carries  the  feelings  and  actions  without.  It 
would  seem  that  all  the  impulses  that  follow  the  bodily  sensations — e.  #.,  the  animal  appetites 
—carry  the  soul  still  further  outward,  and  hold  and  hinder  it  more  effectually  from  the  recog- 
nition of  its  own  being  or  agency.  Even  the  nran  who  has  outgrown  this  condition,  and  been 
raised  above  it  by  refinement  and  moral  culture,  sometimes  falls  back  into  it.  "  Every  man 
can  occasionally  catch  himself  in  the  state  of  losing  himself  in  the  act  of  eating  or  peeing, 
and,  as  it  were,  burying  his  consciousness  in  the  function  of  some  single  organ  of  sense 
States  of  this  sort  have  always  in  them  something  of  the  animal." — HELFERRICH,  Org.  d 
.,  p.  88. 


§86*  NATURAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  101 

As  soon  as  feelings  of  another  character  are  experienced — emotions  proper, 
Emotions  distin-  and  not  sensations,  emotions  which  are  perhaps  antagonistic  to  sensations  and 
sensations.  fr°m  tlieir  imPulses — tne  opportunity  is  presented  for  the  soul  to  distinguish  \U 

own  agency,  and  itself  as  an  actor  or  sufferer,  as  contrasted  with  itself  as  purelj 
sentient ;  i.  e.,  carried  out  of  itself  by  its  sensations  and  appetites.  It  now  furnishes  in  itsell 
the  condition  for  that  reflex  act  which  we  call  the  conscious  discrimination  of  its  states  as  ite 
own.  It  now  can  know  itself  as  an  actor  and  sufferer.  The  act  of  consciousness  is  not 
explained  by  its  conditions.  It  is  not  developed  from  nor  produced  by  these  conditions.  But 
it  does  not  occur  before  these  conditions  are  furnished,  and  these  conditions  do  not  exist  till 
the  soul  has  reached  a  stage  of  development  that  is  somewhat  advanced.  When  these  con- 
ditions do  present  themselves,  the  act  of  consciousness  is  performed,  in  and  by  which  it  dis- 
cerns its  object  to  be.  In  other  words,  under  these  conditions,  consciousness  the  act  and  con- 
sciousness the  object,  as  we  have  described  them,  are  possible  and  actual. 

The  first  step  which  the  child  makes  toward  the  cognition  of  self,  is  to  distinguish  its  body  from  other 
bodies  and  other  persons.  When  it  knows  its  name  it  applies  it  first  to  its  body,  and  usually  speaks  oi 
this  self  in  the  third  person.  It  is  a  great  step  forward  when  it  can  use  the  pronoun  I,  a  step  not  taken 
till  the  child  has  developed  decided  wishes,  and  some  exhibition  of  character,  in  the  form  of  emotion, 
passion,  or  purpose.  Jean  Paul  Richter  records  of  himself:  "  Never  shall  I  forget  the  phenomenon  in 
myself,  never  til  now  recited,  when  I  stood  by  the  birth  of  my  own  self-consciousness,  the  place  and  time 
of  which  are  distinct  in  my  memory.  On  a  certain  forenoon  I  stood,  a  very  young  child,  within  the  house- 
door,  and  was  looking  out  toward  the  wood-pile,  as,  in  an  instant,  the  Inner  revelation,  « I  am  I,'  like  light- 
ning from  heaven,  flashed  and  stood  brightly  before  me ;  in  that  moment  had  I  seen  myself  as  I,  for  tha 
first  time  and  forever ! " 

The  baby,  new  to  earth  and  sky, 

What  time  his  tender  palm  is  pressed 
Against  the  circle  of  the  breast, 
Has  never  thought  that  this  is  I. 

But  as  he  grows,  he  gathers  much, 

And  learns  the  use  of  I  and  me, 

And  finds  I  am  not  what  I  see, 
And  other  than  the  things  I  touch ; 
So  rounds  he  to  a  separate  mind, 

From  whence  clear  memory  may  begin, 

As  thro'  the  frame  that  binds  him  in, 
His  isolation  grows  defined. 

TENNYSON.— In  Memwiam,  xliv. 

The  object  discerned  by  the  act  of  consciousness  is  not,  as  we  have  already 
The  self  not  the  observed»  tne  soul  itself,  as  a  substance  or  subject,  with  all  its  capacities  and 
wo-  powers ;  for,  besides  those  which  consciousness  apprehends,  there  are  those 

which  it  does  not  reach.  Even  the  cause  or  source  of  many  which  it  does 
discern  are  beyond  its  direct  cognition.  In  all  of  these  operations  the  sentient  nature  acts 
out  of  sight,  receiving  or  rejecting  those  objects  for  which  Nature  has  or  has  not  adapted  its 
action.  Even  after  the  soul  acts  and  appears  as  the  ego,  and,  as  such,  is  the  conscious  subject  of 
its  higher  acts,  it  also  acts  as  the  unconscious  subject  of  many  others.  As  the  subject  of  many 
similar  acts  and  states  objectively  known  to  the  conscious  ego,  is  it  called  the  self;  as  the 
agent  which  is  actor,  and  also  conscious  of  individual  acts,  is  it  called  the  ego,  or  I.  Pre- 
eminently is  it  the  ego,  or  I,  when  it  makes  itself  manifest  as  the  regulator  or  controller  of  the 
blind  impulses  and  desires  by  an  act  of  will.  This  ego  is  known  as  identical  with  itself.  It  is 
the  same  ego  which  yesterday  and  to-day  observes  the  changing  states  of  the  identical  self 
vhich  it  makes  the  object  of  its  knowledge ;  otherwise  it  could  not  connect  these  states  as 
past  and  present,  as  experienced  now  and  remembered  yesterday.  It  could  not  regard  them 
»s  its  own.  It  could  not  combine  them  as  similar  into  a  concept,  nor  unite  them  in  a  class, 
Above  all,  it  is  the  sair  3  ego  when  it  holds  the  same  purpose  unchanged,  and  can  repress  and 
overcome  its  own  changing  moods,  and  the  solicitations  of  others,  by  an  unvarying  and  coa 
«.mued  purpose. 


102  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

Th«  act  of  conscious  self-apprehension  may  also  be  more  or  less  frequently 
Differences  in  exerc.sed  by  different  men,  after  the  capacity  for  it  has  been  reached.  The  con 
individuals.  ditions  for  its  exercise,  after  the  power  has  been  matured,  may  be  more  01 

less  favorable.  First,  the  objective  conditions  may  be  more  ample  and  ener 
getic  in  one  man  than  in  another.  The  corporeal  nature  of  one  may  so  hold  the  spirit  bj 
obtrusive  and  engrossing  sensations  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  that  discrimination  which 
is  the  first  condition  of  conscious  knowledge.  Thus  the  body  of  the  idiot  or  the  half-witted 
may  so  preoccupy  the  energies  as  to  detain  it  almost  in  the  aninialized  state.  Moral  obliquity, 
especially  in  early  life,  may  almost  literally  brutify  or  animalize  its  condition.  Various  mor 
bid  conditions  of  the  body  may  come  in  at  an  early  period  of  the  soul's  development  to  arrest 
its  natural  progress,  by  filling  up  its  experience  with  continued  sensations  of  weakness  and  pain. 
Even  a  low  energy  of  vital  force  may  give  to  consciousness  only  feeble  sensational  activity  and 
inert  impelling  forces,  which  are  too  unobtrusive  to  elicit  discriminating  cognition.  The  occupa- 
tions, cares,  and  interests  may  be  so  material  and  sordid,  as  to  fill  up  the  life  with  activities 
that  are  solely  objective.  The  psychical  nature  of  one  person  may  also  be  far  richer  and  more 
varied  in  its  capacities  than  that  of  another,  furnishing  the  material  for  conscious  observation 
that  is  comparatively  copious  and  inviting.  Second,  the  subjective  capacity  of  conscious  activity 
differs  in  degrees  in  different  persons.  The  natural  power,  the  acquired  facility,  and  the  incli- 
nation to  look  inward,  are  stronger  in  some  than  in  others ;  and  hence  in  some  men  that  is  a 
passion  which  in  others  is  rarely  and  ineffectually  performed.  Nature,  habit,  and  art  exhibit 
surprising  diversities  and  contrasts  in  this  respect. 

This  leads  us  to  repeat  the  remark  already  made,  that  the  capacity  for  con- 

The  capacity  for    sciousness  is  not  the  product  of  accidental  conditions  or  circumstances,  nor  is 

consciousness 

not  developed.       it  the  result  of  any  development  from  any  lower  existence,  but  is  provided 

in  the  nature  of  man  and  the  designs  of  his  creator.  The  brute  is  not  self- 
conscious  under  the  most  favorable  circumstances,  nor  can  he  become  so  as  the  result  of  any 
development  whatever.  He  may  be  like  man  in  the  lower  stages  of  being,  in  the  experience 
of  what  we  call  bodily  sensations  and  animal  appetites  ;  but  he  never  discriminates  one  sensa- 
tion from  another  by  a  self-conscious  act,  simply  because  he  has  not  the  capacity.  Much  less 
does  he  distinguish  the  self  from  its  states,  because  there  is  no  self  and  no  states  to  be  thus 
distinguished.  Hence  he  cannot,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  remember,  nor  generalize, 
nor  reason,  nor  judge,  so  far  as  these  involve  the  reference  of  acts  or  objects  to  himself  by 
appropriate  acts  aud  products.  He  cannot  purpose  or  choose,  for  a  similar  reason.  Neither 
the  objective  conditions  of  these  acts  are  furnished  in  his  own  nature,  nor  is  the  subjective 
capacity  to  discern  them. 

This  leads  us  to  repeat  what  has  before  been  said,  that  consciousness  as  act 

Consciousness        and  object,  though  developed  in  the  progress  of  the  soul's  history,  is  not  in 

not  a  product  of 

circumstances.       any  sense  a  phenomenon  produced  by  the  soul's  powers  in  connection  with 

certain  objects  or  conditions.  Consciousness  as  an  act,  or  power  to  act,  is  the 
power  to  know  what  actually  exists.  The  power  to  know  does  not  make  that  to  exist  which  ig 
Bimply  known  to  be.  The  object  of  consciousness  is  not  a  phenomenon  or  phase  of  the  soul, 
but  the  soul  itself  as  at  last  apprehended  in  its  higher  relations,  and  as  exercising  its  noble* 
activities.  The  fact  that  this  egot  or  self,  is  also  capable  of  other  activities  of  which  it  is  not 
conscious  ;  the  fact  that  it  acts  as  vital  force  in  forming  and  nourishing  matter  as,  and  into  the 
body — which  facts  are  not  known  to  consciousness — do  not  disprove  the  more  important  activi 
lies  which  consciousness  does  apprehend,  nor  do  they  make  nor  prove  that  what  consciousness 
does  know — viz.,  the  self,  or  the  ego — has  not  real  being.  The  order  and  law  of  knowing  is  not 
the  order  or  law  of  being.  The  fact  that  the  power  of  the  soul  to  know  itself  is  developed 
last  of  all  in  the  order  of  time,  does  not  cause  what  is  known  to  come  into  being  at  the  time 
when  it  is  known,  nor  its  being  to  result  from  any  process  of  development  at  aU.  The  soul  in 
consciousness  knows  a  fact ;  it  does  not  make  the  fact  to  be. 


>>       OF  THR 

[UNIVERSITY 

£> 

87.  NATURAL   CONSCIOUSNESS. 


*4j£M^ 


8  87.   The  question  has  been  discussed  of  late  among 

Letcntmodifica-  .  ^ 

of    con-    psychologists,  whether  there  can  be  any  latent  modifications 


sciousness. 


.  .       .      ,     .    . 

of  consciousness.  The  phrase  is  infelicitous,  because  ap- 
parently self-contradictory  —  a  latent  modification  of  that  which,  in  its  very 
essence,  is  an  act  or  an  object  of  knoicledge,  being  apparently,  both  it 
term  and  thought,  impossible.  The  truth  which  the  phrase  was  designed 
to  describe  is,  however,  real  and  important,  and  deserves  to  be  clearly 
stated.  That  the  soul  may  act  without  being  conscious  of  what  it  does,  or  even 
that  it  acts  at  all,  has  been  already  established.  That  these  unconscious  acts 
affect  those  acts  of  which  it  is  conscious,  and  their  objects,  is  also  evident. 
A  sharp  distinction  has  been  made  between  those  processes  by  which  the 
soul,  so  to  speak,  prepares  objects  for  its  conscious  apprehension,  and  the 
acts  of  knowing  these  objects  when  thus  prepared.  It  is  equally  clear 
that  the  soul,  by  acting  consciously,  prepares  products  which  it  can  pre- 
serve and  can  recall,  and  that,  by  acting  often  and  energetically,  it  strength- 
ens the  power  to  preserve  and  recall,  by  processes  which  it  cannot  con- 
sciously follow  out  nor  explain.  All  the  effects  of  this  kind  of  its  con- 
scious acts,  are  accomplished  by  modifications  of  the  soul  which  are  latent 
—  i.  e.,  unknown  to  the  direct  inspection  of  consciousness. 

Many  of  the  instances  cited  of  such  modifications,  are  only 

Consciousness  ,  -I-,T  .',. 

susceptible  of  examples  of  objects  observed  with  less  attention  —  objects 
comparatively  unheeded,  which  may  be  afterward  revived 
with  greater  distinctness.  For  example,  I  write  hastily,  to-day,  a  word  or 
a  phrase  which  is  incorrect  or  ungranimatical.  I  do  not  notice  the  error, 
but  I  recall  it  to-morrow,  and  notice  the  mistake  by  an  act  of  memory. 
Or,  I  see  a  person,  and,  at  the  time,  do  not  notice  some  article  of  his  dress 
or  some  peculiarity  in  his  look  or  language,  but  recall  either  distinctly  on 
reflection.  Or  some  part  of  a  total  perception,  as  of  a  crowded  and  active 
company,  or  a  varied  landscape,  apparently  escapes  my  notice.  It  is  a 
mere  accessory,  a  subordinate,  quite  overlooked  in  comparison  with  the 
central  figures  or  objects  ;  and  yet  it  may  serve  as  a  link  in  the  restoration 
of  a  train  of  connected  objects.  These  objects  are  not  latent,  though 
very  little  attended  to.  The  processes  which  they  affected  were,  as  all  the 
processes  of  recalling  by  association  are,  wholly  out  of  consciousness  ; 
consciousness  being  cnly  capable  of  discerning  and  recognizing  objects 
when  presented,  but  being  wholly  unable  to  follow  the  act  by  which  A  is 
connected  with  B,  or  by  which  B  subsequently  brings  A  before  the  con- 
scious mind. 

Leibnitz  (Nouveaux  Essais,  ii.  c.  i.)  cites  the  case  of  the  sound  of  the  sea  as  an  example.  A 
ginglc  wave  does  not  affect  the  ear,  but  only  many,  when  combined.  And  yet  each  w  ve  must 
contribute  its  share  in  affecting  the  conscious  mind,  or  the  whole  could  not  be.  heard  A  dis- 
tinction is  to  be  made  in  this  instance  between  the  impulse  of  a  single  wave  upon  t>e  organ 
of  hearing,  and  the  experience  of  the  sensation.  The  action  of  many  waves  together  may  be 
required  to  bring  the  organ  into  that  condition  which  effects  the  sensation  in  question,  or  ant 


i(Vk  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §89 

othur.    To  the  total  effect  upon  the  organ  each  wave  may  contribute  its  part,  without  moving 
the  consciousness  in  the  least,  even  latently. 

The  general  truth  cannot,  however,  be  controverted,  that  the  unconscious  and  conscioui 
processes  of  the  soul  act  and  react  on  each  other  continually,  and  that  neither  should  be  over 
looked  in  the  science  which  explains  its  phenomena.  Consciousness,  though  the  most  irnpo* 
is  not  the  only  source  of  our  knowledge  of  the  soul,  and  its  powers  and  laws, 


CHAPTER  H. 

1HE    REFLECTIVE,    OK  PHILOSOPHICAL   CONSCIOUSNESS. 

HITUERTO  we  have  considered  consciousness  as  the  common  endowment  and  universal  charac- 
teristic of  the  human  race.  Every  human  being  is  capable  of  being  conscious  of  hia 
psychical  states.  Every  man  who  is  normally  developed  becomes  actually  conscious  of 
these  states  at  a  very  early  period  of  his  existence.  The  exorcise  of  this  power  connects 
him  with  his  kind  by  the  capacity  for  human  sympathy.  It  enables  him  to  recognize  aa 
true  the  descriptions  of  human  experience  which  are  given  by  the  dramatist,  the  novelist, 
and  the  philosopher.  It  qualifies  him  to  try  the  statements  and  theories  of  the  philoso- 
pher at  the  court  of  ultimate  appeal  —  i.  e.y  his  own  conscious  experience.  This  is  nali* 
ral,  or  primary  consciousness. 

8  88.    We  have,  however,  distinguished  and  defined  another 

Xhe      reflective     «  '         ^      p 

eontr^ted  with    species  of  consciousness.     This  is  the  artificial,  or  secondary 

the  natural  con-  ' 


f  . 

consciousness,  and  it  is  attained  by  comparatively  lew. 
Though  all  men  can  understand  and  appreciate  the  descriptions  and 
appeals  of  the  dramatist  and  the  orator,  there  are  but  few  who  can  origi- 
nate and  apply  them.  Though  all  men  experience  the  phenomena  which 
the  philosopher  records,  classifies,  and  accounts  for,  and  in  a  certain  sence 
can  judge  of  the  truth  of  his  assertions,  there  are  few  who  observe  these 
phenomena  with  reflection  even  by  such  aid  ;  and  the  number  is  very  small 
who  can  originate  an  analysis  or  comparison.  The  consciousness  which 
understands  and  assents,  is,  in  some  important  respects,  distinguished  from 
that  which  discovers  and  proves.  And  yet  the  one  power  must  have  an 
intimate  relation  to  the  other  ;  else  the  truth  which  the  philosopher  origi- 
nates would  be  beyond  the  reach  of  the  man  who  receives  and  assents  to 
it.  The  consciousness  which  discovers  and  teaches  is  properly  called  the 
philosophical  and  reflective  consciousness.  These  characteristics  may 
serve  to  distinguish  the  two  species  of  consciousness  in  general  ;  but  we 
ask  more  particularly,  c  What  is  the  reflective  consciousnesss  ?  and  what 
are  its  relations  to  the  natural  consciousness  ?  '  In  answer  to  the  first  of 
the  questions  we  say  : 

§  89.    The  reflective  consciousness  is  the  natural  conscious- 

»nsckmsnes8        ness  exercised  with  earnest  and  persistent  attention.     It  has 
fanned. 

already  been  shown  that  every  intellectual  power  may  be 


§  89.  THE    .REFLECTIVE,    OR   PHILOSOPHICAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  105 

Used  with  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  energy.  We  have  also  seen  that  the 
development  of  the  natural  consciousness  through  its  successive  stages  is 
but  the  development  of  an  increase  of  attention.  When  this  habit  is  car 
ried  to  a  still  higher  degree  of  energy,  and  the  subjective  states  and 
activities  become  as  familiar  and  as  frequent  objects  of  contemplation  as 
material  objects  are  to  the  mass  of  men,  then  consciousness  is  transformed 
into  reflection.  The  natural  and  the  spontaneous  becomes  the  artificial 
and  reflective  consciousness. 

That  the  ordinary  consciousness  should  be  intensified  to  the  extraordinary,  is  not  entirely 
strange  to  the  experience  of  men  who  are  habitually  unaccustomed  to  reflection  upon  them- 
selves  and  their  own  psychical  processes.  It  not  infrequently  happens  that  the  inattentive  and 
unreflecting,  is  so  startled  by  the  fire  and  energy  of  his  own  feelings,  as  to  look  in  upon  him- 
self With  wonder.  Or  perhaps  such  a  man  is  surprised  to  see  in  some  feat  of  memory,  some 
sally  oi  xut  imagination,  or  some  sagacious  conjecture,  a  revelation  of  internal  power  and 
resources  ot  which  he  had  never  dreamed,  and  which  has  astonished  him,  somewhat  as  the 
vein  of  silver  is  said  to  have  astonished  the  savage  who  caught  at  a  shrub  and  exposed  the 
iode  beneatn,  that  led  to  the  mines  of  Potosi.  Such  revelations  have  been  to  many  a  boy 
and  man  the  beginning  of  a  new  life. 

It  may  help  us  still  further  to  accept  the  possibility  and  to  understand  the  nature  of  con- 
sciousness as  modified  by  attention,  to  consider  it  in  the  two  forms  of  the  morbid  and  the 
ethical  self -consciousness. 

The  morbid  or  the  abnormal  self-consciousness  is  that  kind  or  degree  of  atten- 
co^  tion  to  one's  own  psychical  states  which  interferes  with  the  normal  use  and 
children  and  development  of  the  powers;  which  is  inconsistent  with  the  health,  the  com- 
fort,  and  the  successful  activity  of  the  body  or  the  soul.  Children  are 
appointed  by  nature  to  an  objective,  and,  in  one  sense,  an  animal  life.  The  soul  needs  to  be 
thus  occupied, to  accumulate  the  stores  of  facts  and  dates,  or  words  and  phrases,  which  it  may 
afterward  turn  to  a  higher  use.  The  imagination  naturally  constructs  and  invents  with  cre- 
ative affluence,  and  it  colors  and  gilds  whatever  it  creates.  But  now  and  then  a  child,  through 
an  unfortunate  bias,  or  some  ill-judged  training,  has  been  led  to  look  inward  upon  itself  with 
unnatural  precocity.  As  a  consequence,  the  subjective  predominates  over  the  objective,  the 
power  to  reflect  excludes  the  power  to  acquire;  and  that  easy  and  spontaneous  play  of  observa- 
tion, memory,  imagination,  wit,  and  invention,  which  is  the  strength  and  the  charm  of  child- 
hood, is  excluded  or  hindered. 

Among  adults  many  examples  occur  of  a  morbid  or  unnatural  attention  to  the  inner  life. 
Hypochondriacs,  who  are  haunted  by  disturbing  sensations  which  come  from  some  bodily  dis- 
ease, till  their  attention  is  so  absorbed  in  watching  their  sensations  that  it  cannot  respond  to 
the  objects  that  are  fitted  to  amuse  and  inspirit  them,  furnish  one  example.  Men  who  have 
inherited  or  indulged  a  sensitive  nature  till  it  has  become  their  tyrant ;  who  watch  their  feel- 
ings with  a  selfish  exclusiveness,  or  who  pamper  them  with  a  dainty  fastidiousness,  become, 
like  Rousseau,  half  insane  through  brooding  over  their  own  exaggerated  sufferings  and  wrongs. 
Hamlet  is  a  striking  example  of  an  affectionate  and  heroic  nature,  shocked  by  the  occurrence 
of  a  terrible  calamity,  that  first  forced  him  to  be  suspicious  of  his  fellow-men,  and  then  taught 
him  to  distrust  himself,  till  his  "  native  hue  of  resolution  "  was  "  sicklied  o'er  with  the  pale 
oast  of  thought."  Skeptics,  whether  philosophical  or  religious — rnen  who  carry  the  impulse  to 
jucstion  and  investigate  to  the  excess  of  distrust  and  doubt — usually  terminate  their  career  of 
distrust  by  turning  their  eyes  inward  upon  the  workings  of  their  own  souls,  and  find  there  the 
amplest  field  for  questioning  the  validity  of  the  laws  of  their  own  being  and  the  facts  of  theil 
own  consciousness. 


106  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §91 

Another  type  of  the  abnormal  consciousness  is  that  which  results  from  an  egoistic  thought 
fulness  of  one's  appearance,  manners,  words,  looks,  actions,  or  achievements,  which  shows  itself 
m  the  countless  forms  of  affectation  that  are  displayed  in  society,  as  well  as  in  literature.  The* 
all  have  this  common  feature,  that  the  person  thinks  more  of  himself  than  is  wise  or  healthful 
So  common  has  this  become  in  the  artificial  society  of  modern  times,  that  it  has  given  a  new 
•ense  to  the  words  conscious  and  consciousness,  with  and  without  self  as  the  prefix. 

The  ethical  type  is  that  attention  to  one's  inner  states  which  is  applied  in 
The  ethical  con-  view  of  a  moral  standard,  for  the  purposes  of  self-correction  and  self-improve- 
•ciousness.  ment.'  In  order  to  judge  one's  self,  a  person  must  know  or  examine  himself. 

He  must  attend  to  his  own  thoughts  and  feelings,  so  far  as  is  requisite  for 
these  ends.  This  is  so  obviously  required,  that  the  word  reflection,  which  originally  signified  the* 
reflex  action  of  the  soul  upon  itself,  has  acquired  a  secondary  signification,  in  its  use  and  appli- 
cation  for  ethical  purposes.  This  kind  of  reflective  consciousness  always  brings  with  it  soms 
intellectual  discipline.  The  person  who  habitually  scrutinizes  his  motives  and  examines  hia 
feelings  in  the  light  of  the  law  of  duty  and  of  God,  cannot  but  cultivate  and  strengthen  hia 
intellect  by  the  process,  however  humble  may  be  his  calling  and  illiterate  his  education. 
Christianity  has  trained  the  intellect  of  the  human  race  to  this  activity,  and  hence  has  been  so 
efficient  in  educating  and  elevating  the  masses  of  men,  even  when  it  has  furnished  no  special 
intellectual  culture. 

8  90.   The  type  of  the  reflective  consciousness  with  which 

The       scientific     '  -,    .        ,  i  •    ,     . 

reflective    con-    we  are  specially  concerned  is  that  which  is  properly  called 


philosophical,  because  used  for  scientific  ends.  It  has  this  in 
common  with  the  types  already  referred  to,  that  it  involves  attention  as 
its  special  and  essential  element.  But  the  attention  must  be  employed  in 
a  peculiar  way,  with  distinct  reference  to  peculiar  ends,  and  with  the  aid 
of  special  appliances,  if  it  is  to  yield  important  scientific  results.  Its 
characteristics  are  the  following  : 

91.    First :  It  is  persistent  in  its  observations.     It  not  only 


Characterized  by 
persist     ' 
tion. 


persistent  atten-    attends  to  the  phenomena  of  the  soul  as  inclination  or  duty 


may  decide,  but  it  attends  continuously,  with  the  def nite 
aims  of  careful  observation  and  accurate  remembrance.  But  how  can  the 
mind  attend  continuously  to  the  same  mental  state  ?  Of  material  objects 
many  of  the  phenomena  are  permanent ;  they  address  the  senses  as  being 
the  same  objects.  We  can  observe  them  again  and  again,  till  we  are  certain 
that  we  have  attained  a  definite  impression,  and  can  bring  away  a  satisfy- 
ing recollection.  But  the  mental  object  is  but  for  an  instant.  If  we  look 
for  i^  in  order  that  we  may  look  at  it  the  second  time,  it  is  not  there.  It 
existed  only  so  long  as,  by  our  own  act,  we  gave  it  being ;  and  when  that 
activity  is  intermitted,  the  object  which  we  would  fain  examine  by  a 
second  look  is  no  longer  and  nowhere  to  be  found.  The  only  resource 
which  we  have,  is  to  prolong  the  state  by  continually  renewing  or  repeat- 
ing it.  To  this  act  or  effort  of  prolongation  Locke  gives  the  name  of 
retention,  and  this  he  describes  as  a  peculiar  mental  act  (Essay,  B.  ii. 
o.  x.  §  1).  But  can  we  prolong  a  single  state  beyond  its  assigned  period 
of  time  ?  Is  not  a  single  state  limited  to  a  definite  period  of  duration  1 
The  question  is  trivial,  and  it  is  of  no  consequence  how  it  is  answered. 


§92.  THE   REFLECTIVE,    OR   PHILOSOPHICAL   CONSCIOUS1TESS.  10" 

Whether  we  can  prolong  a  state  or  not,  we  can  certainly  repeat  it  again 
and  again,  allowing  no  other  activity  to  intervene.  As  we  thus  repeat,  the 
activity  in  a  series  of  similar  acts,  we  present  to  our  consciousness  sub 
stantially  the  same  object,  and  so  secure  an  opportunity  for  bestowing 
upon  it  that  continuous  or  sustained  attention  which  is  essential  to  exact 
observation.  What  we  fail  to  notice  at  one  look,  we  catch  by  another. 
What  we  only  faintly  apprehend  at  the  first  sight,  we  fix  and  confirm  by 
the  second.  What  we  observe  incorrectly  or  partially  in  one  act,  we  dis- 
cern truly  and  completely  in  the  act  which  follows.  This  retention  or 
repetition  of  the  object  becomes  the  condition  of  the  continuity  of  the  act 
of  consciousness,  and  hence  it  is  a  distinguishing  characteristic  of  the 
philosophic  consciousness.  It  is  because  the  mind  does,  as  it  were,  turn  iu 
upon  itself,  that  this  effort  of  consciousness  is  termed  reflection — i.  e.,  the 
bending  back  or  retortion  of  the  soul  on  itself.  It  is  because  this  repe 
tition  of  the  object,  or  retortion  in  the  act,  is  found  to  be  practically 
necessary,  in  order  to  any  accurate  and  successful  observation  of  con- 
sciousness, that  consciousness  the  act,  has  been  supposed  to  be  a  remem- 
brance, a  sort  of  second  thought,  and  the  power  has  been  resolved  into 
memory  (§  75).  Second-thinking  is,  indeed,  necessary  to  reflective  con- 
sciousness ;  and  not  only  second-thinking,  but  a  sustained  and  continued 
application  of  the  attention  to  the  continuously  repeated  act. 

Other  advantages  are  secured  by  this  repetition  of  the  mind's  activity,  and  one  especially, 
that  it  is  capable  of  being  viewed  more  coolly.  When  the  soul  first  goes  forth  into  an  act,  its 
conscious  apprehension  of  what  it  does  or  suffers  is  inversely  as  the  direct  energy  by  which  it 
produces  it.  If  it  reproduces  its  like  immediately,  this  may  be  entirely  similar  to  the  original  ic 
the  kind,  and  yet  greatly  unlike  it  in  the  degree  of  its  energy,  leaving  the  remainder  of  the  soul's 
energy  to  be  employed  in  the  reflex  attention  to  it.  If  I  am  absorbed  by  the  beauty  of  a 
splendid  picture,  or  a  glorious  sunset,  I  shall  not  be  likely,  when  these  objects  first  break  upon 
my  sight,  to  give  much  attention  to  the  act  or  process  by  which  I  view  them  in  order  to  ascer- 
tain their  exact  nature,  or  to  the  emotion  with  which  I  am  literally  rapt  or  carried  out  of  myself, 
to  discover  whether  there  is  more  of  delight  or  wonder.  But  when  my  curiosity  is  satisfied, 
and  my  feelings  are  calmer,  then  I  have  some  energy  to  withdraw  from  the  act  of  seeing  and 
the  feeling  of  admiration,  which  I  can  employ  in  reflex  attention  to  the  act  and  the  emotion. 
But  even  in  the  energy  of  my  first  perception  and  the  tumult  of  my  first  emotion,  I  noticed 
these  very  states  sufficiently  to  remember  that  they  were  like  the  less  excited  and  .absorbed  states 
that  follow,  which  allow  the  chief  energy  of  the  soul  to  be  employed  in  reflex  attention.  Facts 
like  these  throw  a  flood  of  light  on  the  necessity  of  repeated  activities  of  the  soul,  in  order 
both  to  furnish  the  subject-matter  for  its  reflex  action,  and  in  order  to  enable  it  to  reflect  with 
profit. 

8  92.    Second :   The   philosophical  consciousness  is  compre- 

It  attends  to  all     ;          ...         ,  .  i.    ,     .  .  .  .      .       „   ,  ,      ,,     . 

the  psychical  hensive  in  its  observations.  It  brings  within  its  neld  or  view 
all  the  phenomena  of  the  soul.  Its  object  being  to  know  all 
its  powers,  it  must  of  course  consider  and  attend  to  all  its  phenomena. 
The  philosopher  may  not,  like  the  man  of  morbid  or  abnormal  tendencies, 
give  an  exclusive  and  one-sided  regard  to  certain  feelings,  or  to  a  few  spe- 
cies of  intellectual  acts ;  but  he  must  regard  all  the  variety  of  experiences 


108  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  94 

of  which  his  being  is  capable,  omitting  none,  being  partial  to  none,  doing 
full  justice  to  each  and  to  all — to  each  in  its  separate  agency,  and  to  all  in 
their  mutual  and  conspiring  harmony.  This  principle  is  so  obviously  just 
and  fundamental,  that  no  reasons  need  be  given  to  justify  or  enforce  it. 
It  is  accepted  as  a  cardinal  maxim  of  the  inductive  method ;  to  whatever 
object-matter  this  method  is  applied.  To  scientific  knowledge  of  every 
sort,  it  is  essential  that  all  the  facts  should  be  fairly  considered.  Nature  is 
an  honest  witness,  and  stands  pledged  to  tell  not  only  the  truth,  but  the 
whole  truth.  Those  who  examine  the  witness  are  equally  bound  to  hear 
the  whole  truth,  and  to  open  their  minds  to  attentively  consider  it. 

§  93.  Third :  The  philosophical  consciousness  attends  to 
Compares  and  psychical  phenomena,  in  order  that  it  may  compare  them : 

classifies  them.        F  \  .  ,      J   .         / 

and  it  compares  these  phenomena,  in  order  that  it  may  unite 
.hose  which  are  alike,  and  distinguish  those  which  are  unlike.  Its  aim  is 
scientific  knowledge  ;  and  science  is  knowledge  that  is  comparative  and 
discriminating.  In  other  words,  it  is  classified  and  arranged  knowledge. 
Or  it  may  be  defined  as  facts  seen  in  their  widest  and  most  comprehensive 
relations.  It  is  not  sufficient  that  we  attend  to  the  facts  of  the  soul  apart ; 
we  must  compare  them  together,  in  order  that  they  may  be  classed  and 
distinguished,  and  reduced  to  the  order  and  symmetry  of  a  completed 
system. 

The  power  to  discern  relations  sharply,  surely,  and  quickly,  may  to  a  certain  extent  be  a 
special  endowment  or  gift  of  nature.  Its  successful  exercise  or  application,  however,  is  the 
result  of  attentive  comparison.  The  observer  must  bring  the  facts  together,  placing  them  side 
by  side.  He  must  then  look  at  them  in  their  connections,  leaving  the  various  relations  to  sug- 
gest themselves.  He  must  also  unite  those  which  are  alike,  and  discriminate  those  which  are 
anlike.  By  whatever  method  or  from  whatever  source  the  facts  of  the  soul  come  to  notice, 
whether  by  reading,  memory,  or  observation,  they  must,  when  present,  be  brought  together  by 
die  comparing  attention. 

8  94.    Fourth  :  The  philosophical  consciousness  interprets  the 

Interprets     and     ° 

explains    them    phenomena   which   it   unites    and   discriminates.      In   other 

by  powers   and  . 

laws.  words,  it  explains  them  by  a  reference  to  powers  and  laws. 

The  classification  of  phenomena  is  a  condition  of  science,  rather  than  sci- 
ence itself.  It  is  science  begun,  but  not  science  completed.  The  object 
of  science  is  to  ascertain  what  is  familiarly  called  the  nature,  essence,  or 
constitution,  whether  of  the  material  or  the  spiritual  beings  with  which  it 
has  to  do.  It  may  not  be  easy  to  define  what  is  intended  by  these  terms 
(§  426).  It  is  obvious,  however,  that  something  more  is  meant  than  a 
bundle  of  classified  phenomena.  They  are  supposed  to  indicate  or  reveal 
some  power  which  the  being  possesses.  The  phenomenon  is  to  the  power 
as  an  effect  is  to  its  cause.  The  power  is  conceived  as  a  capacity  to  cause 
some  result  or  phenomenon.  Hence  science  is  said  to  be  the  investigation 
of  causes,  principles,  or  powers.  The  scientific  consciousness,  therefore, 
reflects ^  that  it  may  refer  phenomena  to  their  causes  or  powers,  in  the  soul, 


55  95.  THE    REFLECTIVE,    OR   PHILOSOPHICAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  109 

But  powers,  whether  material  or  spiritual,  do  not  act  except  under  conditions.  Sorat 
otiier  being,  agent,  or  condition,  must  be  present  in  order  that  the  power  may  be  aciuallj 
exercised.  The  soul,  though  self-active,  as  has  been  explained,  is  yet  dependent  on  materia. 
conditions  for  the  beginnings  of  its  activity,  and  for  many  of  the  objects  which  direct  thil 
activity.  But  inasmuch  as  the  soul  is  self-active,  it  is  also  very  largely  dependent  on  itself  for 
the  conditions  of  its  acting.  But  whatever  these  conditions  are,  and  whencesoever  they  origi- 
nate, they  must  be  ascertained,  in  order  that  the  philosophical  consciousness  should  complete 
its  work  and  attain  its  appropriate  objects. 

But  again :  The  powers  or  agents  of  nature  act  according  to  laws. 
These  laws  are  fixed  methods  or  rules  according  to  which  phenomena 
occur,  when  the  conditions  of  their  presence  are  furnished.  The  laws  of 
the  soul  are,  therefore,  to  be  discovered  and  established,  in  order  that  the 
science  of  the  soul  may  be  complete,  and  the  objects  of  the  philosophical 
consciousness  may  be  accomplished.  We  have  already  adverted  to  the 
reasons  which  lead  us  to  presume  that  the  essence,  the  acts,  and  the  laws 
of  the  soul  differ  from  those  which  belong  to  matter  and  are  the  subjects 
of  the  physical  sciences.  That  the  soul  has  laws  of  its  own,  is  higkly 
probable ;  but  the  duty  is  none  the  less  imperative  to  discover  and  fix 
these  laws,  whatever  they  may  be. 

We  have  already  answered  the  question,  whether  there  is  not  on*, 
method  common  to  both  spiritual  and  material  phenomena,  viz.,  the  indue 
tive  method,  whose  principles  and  maxims  have  long  been  fixed  and  ac- 
knowledged. There  is  but  one  method  of  inquiry  for  the  two  classes 
of  objects ;  but  it  is  one  of  the  fundamental  principles  of  this  method,  that 
full  and  complete  justice  should  be  done  to  the  powers  and  laws  which  are 
appropriate  to  any  class  of  agencies,  provided  that  their  existence  and 
action  can  be  fairly  proved — i.  e.,  can  be  established  on  satisfactory  evi- 
dence, and  reveal  themselves  to  the  appropriate  means  of  observation.  It 
is  also  not  to  be  forgotten,  that  the  analysis  of  psychological  phenomena 
involves  at  last  an  analysis  of  the  processes  and  laws  of  induction  itself* 
giving  thus  to  psychology  a  profounder  import  and  importance  than  be 
longs  to  any  material  science. 

Relations  of  the  §  95'  ^ur  secon(^  inquiry  respected  the  relations  of  the  n,itu 
the^urafcon"  ra^  to  ^e  phil°sophical  consciousness.  These  relations  neet 
to  be  more  fully  considered.  It  has  already  been  explained 
that  all  the  phenomena  of  the  soul  which  are  used  by  the  philosopher  in  f 
completed  science,  occur  under  the  eye  of  the  natural  consciousness. 
Neither  the  natural,  nor  the  reflective  consciousness  creates  these  facts ; 
they  only  observe  them ;  the  one  cursorily  and  to  little  scientific  purpose, 
the  other  patiently  and  with  comprehensive  and  sagacious  comparisons. 
Consciousness  -Toes  not  call  the  facts  into  being,  nor  does  reflection  intro- 
duce us  to  a  new  world  of  its  own  creation  ;  but  both  observe  these  facts, 
yet  in  a  different  way.  Psychology  does  not  add  newly-created  phe- 
nomena to  our  stock  of  knowledge,  nor  even  in  one  sense  newly-discoy 


110  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT. 

ered  facts  ;  but  only  old  and  in  one  sense  well-known  facts,  now  carefully 
and  comprehensively  observed  and  exhibited  in  new  relations.  The  facts, 
and  many  of  the  relations  of  the  facts,  are  as  obvious,  and  in  one  sense  ae 
truly  known,  to  the  peasant  as  to  the  philosopher.  When  the  philosophei 
teaches  the  peasant,  he  does  not  impart  new  knowledge  concerning  tht 
soul,  by  mere  testimony,  on  the  authority  of  his  own  observations  and  ex 
periments,  or  those  of  others  ;  he  simply  teaches  him  to  attend  to  the 
phenomena  of  his  own  inner  self.  He  says  to  him,  Look,  and  you  will  find 
this  or  that.  Observe  this  and  that  phenomenon  together,  and  you  will 
see  wherein  they  agree  and  wherein  they  differ.  In  short,  he  only 
teaches  him  what  in  one  sense  he  knew  before. 
Does  the  phiio-  8  96.  But  does  not  the  reflective  consciousness  discover  and 

on-     ,  -i     -i        r>      -»*-  •    i  -r     i 

im-    impart  new  knowledge  r     Most  certainly.     It  by  no  means 


edgenev  follows,  because  the  natural  furnishes  to  the  reflective  con- 

sciousness all  its  facts,  and  the  reflective  must  go  to  the  natural  conscious 
ness  for  all  its  materials,  that  the  philosophic  consciousness  makes  no 
important  additions  to  the  stock  of  human  knowledge.  The  same  starry 
heavens  are  pictured  on  the  eye  of  the  stupid  or  superstitious  savage,  as 
upon  that  of  the  scientific  astronomer  ;  but  how  much  more  does  the  one 
see  in  them  than  the  other  !  A  simple  child  and  a  skilful  engineer  look 
upon  a  steam-engine,  both  in  one  sense  seeing  the  same  objects  ;  but  how 
much  more  does  the  one  perceive  in  the  engine  than  the  other,  of  the  pow- 
ers, the  laws  and  the  uses  of  each  separate  part,  and  of  their  action  with 
respect  to  the  whole.  The  same  natural  consciousness  is  the  common  pos- 
session of  the  race  ;  but  how  great  is  the  store  of  important  scientific 
truth  which  reflective  thought  has  superinduced  upon,  and  discovered  in 
it.  Indeed,  it  is  easier  to  lead  the  savage  up  to  the  sublime  generaliza- 
tions of  astronomy,  and  to  teach  the  child  to  comprehend  the  intricate 
relations  of  the  steam-engine,  than  it  is  to  make  them  familiar  with  the 
facts  and  principles  of  psychological  science.  To  unveil  to  a  man  his  inner 
self  imparts  more  knowledge  that  is  novel  and  strange,  than  to  teach  him 
astronomy  and  mechanics. 

The  difference  between  the  knowledge  given  by  the  natural  and  that  acquired 
th"8  knowledge  through  the  philosophical  consciousness,  is  well  illustrated  by  the  individual 
the  self  6g°  and  concePtion  °f  tne  eff°t  which  is  common  to  all,  and  the  generalized  conception 

of  the  self  which  is  the  product  of  reflection.  The  consideration  of  this  differ- 
once  illustrates  the  relation  of  the  one  species  of  consciousness  to  the  other.  In  every  act  and 
condition  of  the  natural  consciousness  there  is  necessarily  present,  the  recognition  of  the  ego,  as 
the  unchanging  subject  of  the  changing  states  of  the  soul.  It  is  plain  that  neither  reflection  nor 
memory  can  create  or  evolve  this  knowledge  ;  for  both  reflection  and  memory  presuppose  and 
require  it  as  their  essential  condition.  It  must  be  given  to  the  mind  by  the  intuition  of  the 
natural  consciousness,  or  it  is  not  given  at  all.  But  it  is  the  intuition  of  the  it  dividual  ego  —  the 
one  single  being  to  which,  and  to  which  alone,  belong  the  various  and  changing  states  which  are  its 
experiences  and  its  doings,  or  rather  into  which  it  is  constantly  passing  by  suffering  and  by  action. 
The  conception  of  the  self,  which  is  expressed  in  language  and  defined  by  its  conftituem 


S§96.  THE    REFLECTIVE,    OR    PHILOSOPHICAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  ill 

elements  or  characteristics,  is  the  generalized  product  of  the  philosophical  consciousness.  A  self 
is  one  of  the  individual  agents  or  egos,  so  to  speak,  which  is  like  every  other,  in  those  commoi 
characteristics  or  powers  which  make  them  alike.  It  is,  however,  an  ego  stripped  of  its  indi- 
viduality by  the  process  of  abstraction,  and  considered  only  in  those  attributes  and  qualities 
which  it  has  in  common  with  others.  The  self,  or  this  self,  or  my  self,  is  this  individual  one 
of  the  selves — the  ego,  to  which  this  common  conception  is  applied,  arid  of  which  it  is  predi- 
cated. These  general  attributes  are  known  by  their  manifestations.  In  other  words,  we 
.'eflect  upon  its  actings  and  experiences,  and  observe  what  it  has  in  common  with  others  of  its 
class.  We  observe,  also,  what  special  or  peculiar  powers  it  has  exhibited,  by  which  it  is  dis- 
tinguished from  other  human  souls  and  shows  itself  worthy  to  be  set  apart  into  a  more  limited 
or  lower  species.  In  order  that  either  of  these  conceptions  of  an  individual  ego  should  be 
formed,  it  must  have  existed  for  a  longer  or  shorter  time,  and  had  opportunity  to  manifest  and 
develop  its  natural  or  perhaps  its  acquired  peculiarities,  in  various  forms  of  act  and  suffering. 
To  do  this,  it  must  have  had  the  opportunity  of  acting.  The  various  occasions  that  are  neces- 
sary as  the  sphere  of  the  soul,  must  also  have  been  furnished.  Not  only  must  the  ego  have  lived 
and  acted  in  various  ways,  to  present  the  material  for  the  reflex  consciousness  to  work  upon, 
but  these  manifestations  must  have  been  considered  in  all  the  ways  necessary  for  philosophic 
results,  in  order  that  it  may  be  considered  as  a  self,  or  any  species  of  a  self.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  natural  consciousness  must  begin  with  the  apprehension  of  the  ego,  as  the  condition 
of  knowing  a  single  mental  state.  It  cannot  connect  one  with  another  except  by  the  appre- 
hended identity  of  this  ego.  We  begin  with  the  natural  consciousness  of  the  individual  ego, 
and  end  with  the  philosophical  concept  of  the  self;  with  its  nature  and  capacities  as  developed 
in  the  reflective  consciousness,  by  which  nature  we  explain  its  various  single  phenomena  as 
occurring  according  to  the  essential  laws  of  its  being. 

So,  too,  when  we  conceive  of  the  self  in  its  ethical  relations,  we  consider  the  individual 
ego  as  possessed  of  a  character,  that  is  the  result  of  its  own  free  activity,  and  yet  is  described 
and  judged  by  the  marks  of  excellence  or  defect  which  it  has  in  common  with  a  class.  In 
other  words,  we  apply  to  it  the  concepts  which  generalization  alone  can  furnish.  We  reflect 
on  the  actual  attainments  and  doings  of  this  individual  ego,  in  order  to  judge  of  the  class  of 
beings  to  which  to  assign  it,  that  we  may  know  its  worth  and  its  destiny.  We  devise  methods 
to  improve  it  in  the  light  of  certain  generalized  concepts.  In  ethics,  we  recognize  both  the 
individual  ego  of  the  natural  consciousness,  and  the  generalized  ego  of  reflection. 

We  can  also  go  beneath  the  generalizations  of  self  that  are  founded  on  what  consciousness 
observes  and  records.  We  can  conceive  of  the  soul  as  capable  of  other  functions  which  con- 
nect it  with  the  living  body,  and  fit  it  to  act  in  another  sphere  and  under  other  relations.  In 
these  researches  we  depart  still  further  from  the  sphere  of  the  natural  consciousness. 

Coleridge  eloquently  says :  "  There  is  a  philosophic  consciousness  which  lies  beneath,  or  (as  it  were) 
behind  the  spontaneous  consciousness  natural  to  all  reflecting  beings.  As  the  elder  Romans  distinguished 
their  northern  provinces  into  Cis- Alpine  and  Trans- Alpine,  so  may  we  divide  all  the  objects  of  human 
knowledge  into  those  on  this  side,  and  those  on  that  side  of  the  spontaneous  consciousness.  *  *  *  The  first 
range  of  hills  that  encircles  the  scanty  vale  of  human  life,  is  the  horizon  for  the  majority  of  its  inhabitants. 
On  its  ridges  the  common  sun  is  born  and  departs.  From  them  the  stars  rise,  and  touching  them  they 
vanish.  By  the  many,  even  this  range,  the  natural  limit  and  bulwark  of  the  vale,  is  but  imperfectly  known. 
Its  higher  ascents  are  too  often  hidden  by  mists  and  clouds  from  uncultivated  swamps,  which  few  have 
courage  or  curiosity  to  penetrate.  To  the  uncultivated  below,  these  vapors  appear,  now  as  the  dark  haunts 
of  terrific  agents,  on  which  none  may  intrude  with  impunity ;  and  now,  all  aglow  with  colors  not  their 
own,  they  are  gazed  at  as  the  splendid  palaces  of  happiness  and  power.  But  in  all  ages,  there  have  been  a 
few  who,  measuring  and  sounding  the  rivers  of  the  vale  at  the  feet  of  the  further  inaccessible  falls,  have 
learned  that  the  sources  must  be  far  higher  and  inward — a  few  who,  even  in  the  level  streams,  have  detected 
dements  wiricb  neither  the  vale  itself,  nor  the  surrounding  mountains  could  supply." — Biog.  Lit.,  Chap.  12. 
This  passage  is  more  eloquent  than  just.  So  far  as  it  describes  the  remoteness  of  the  philosophic  from  the 
spontaneous  consciousness,  it  is  striking  and  true.  So  far  as  it  fails  to  recognize  the  near  relation  of  the 
two,  and  the  responsibility  of  the  one  to  the  other,  it  not  only  fails  altogether,  but  suggests  the  mischiovoiu 
inference,  that  the  philosopher  discovers  truths  and  relations  which  are  in  no  sense  whatever  ktown  by 


112  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §97. 

the  common  consciousness— an  inference  which  would  invest  the  philosopher  with  a  magical  gift  and 
authority,  as  well  as  release  him  from  the  obligation  and  the  means  of  proving  and  teaching  what  ht 
discovers,  to  any  but  the  initiated  few. 

8  97.    The  relations  of  the  natural  to  the  philosophic  con- 

Office     of    Ian-      '  ..  •    a.    a          i  • 

guage  in  respect  sciousness  cannot  be  fully  appreciated,  unless  we  advert  to 
the  office  of  language  with  respect  to  each.  Language  is  of 
essential  aid  in  giving  precision  and  permanence  to  the  observations  and 
results  of  the  reflective  consciousness.  It  is  an  indispensable  requisite  to 
man  in  every  species  of  scientific  research,  but  in  none  is  it  so  eminently 
serviceable,  as  in  the  scientific  observation  of  the  soul.  The  subject-mat- 
ter, as  we  have  seen,  is  fleeting.  It  endures  but  for  an  instant.  The  state 
which  we  observe  and  record  no  sooner  appears,  than  it  is  gone.  If  we 
recall  another  like  it,  we  must  depend  on  the  distinctness  with  which  we 
reproduced  the  original  observation,  to  justify  us  in  using  it  for  the  pur- 
poses of  science.  The  matter  is  not  fixed  and  abiding  by  which  we  would 
test  our  theories  and  detect  our  errors.  But  we  can  give  it  outward  form 
and  definite  shape  by  embodying  it  in  words  and  expressing  it  in  speech. 

The  frequent  use  of  the  word,  makes  familiar  the  state  and  its  discerned  relations,  of  which 
it  is  both  the  symbol  and  the  record.  To  enshrine  a  refined  observation  or  a  subtle  distinction 
in  a  fit  epithet  or  a  well-chosen  name,  enables  us  to  revive  the  conception  when  the  mind  ia 
less  wakeful,  or  summons  us  to  search  for  it  where  it  would  not  spontaneously  present  itself. 
The  thought,  however  evanescent,  is  held  before  the  mind  for  the  purposes  of  comparison  and 
philosophy,  when  the  word  is  often  sounded  to  the  ear  or  pictured  before  the  eye.  By  the 
sharply-cut  outlines  of  language,  thought-objects  are  so  presented  that  we  can  avoid  a  crowded, 
feeble,  or  bewildered  gaze,  when  we  would  summon  our  energies  to  compare,  classify,  and 
explain. 

But  language  does  not  create  phenomena  and  furnish  obser- 

Language    does 

not  create  the  vations.  It  simply  records  both,  and  directs  and  stimulates 
others  to  repeat  like  efforts  of  thought  for  themselves.  To 
attempt  to  observe  without  it,  is  to  reject  the  aid  which  nature  furnishes 
to  our  hand,  and  to  the  use  of  which  she  prompts  us,  by  an  impulse  which 
we  cannot  resist  if  we  would.  But  we  should  ever  remember  that  lan- 
guage is  only  an  aid,  and  that  the  ready  use  of  it  by  ourselves  or  others 
cannot  release  us  from  the  obligation  to  think  and  observe  for  ourselves, 
to  consider  attentively  and  reflectively  judge  the  states  of  our  own  souls, 
to  reproduce  and  study  which,  the  words  of  others  simply  direct  and  aid 
us. 

We  ought  especially  to  guard  ourselves  against  the  liability  to  be  imposeJ  on 
technology  Tnd  bv  the  use  of  a  refined  and  technical  terminology,  or  the  exhibition  of  a  well- 
ays  em.  rounded  and  carefully-adjusted  system.  Both  these  features  are  of  them 

selves  essential  requisites  in  any  science,  and  in  none  more  than  in  the  science 
of  the  soul.  But  they  exhibit  only  the  relations  of  psychological  facts  as  viewed  by  this  or 
that  philosopher,  and  do  not  necessarily  assure  us  that  they  exhibit  all  the  facts  in  their  just 
relations,  that  none  are  overlooked  and  nothing  is  invented.  Technical  language  is  essential 
to  the  use  of  the  reflective  consciousness,  but  it  is  not  nearly  so  certain  to  exhibit  the  fact* 


§97.  THE    REFLECTIVE,    OR   PHILOSOPHICAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  113 

just  as  they  are,  with  the  beliefs  and  relations  which  they  involve,  as  the  language  of  the  natu- 
ral consciousness  or  the  language  of  common  life. 

The  language  Indeed,  as  an  expression  of  psychological  facts  and  a  touch- 
BomSST  the  stone  of  psychological  theories,  the  language  of  common  life 
is  far  more  worthy  to  be  trusted  than  the  language  of  the 
schools.  It  is  the  outspeaking  of  those  beliefs  and  feelings,  those  distinc- 
tions and  likenesses,  which  man  is  naturally  conscious  of,  and  which  he 
therefore  spontaneously  expresses.  It  is  the  unconstrained  embodiment  of 
all  that  happens  to  his  inner  self ;  the  subtle  robe  which  the  spirit  is  con- 
tinually weaving  for  itself  in  all  its  inner  processes.  Each  fold  and  adjust- 
ment is  a  natural  and  necessary  product.  Not  one  is  assumed  for  a  pur- 
pose. It  is  free  from  all  those  biassing  influences  which  spring  up  on  the 
soil  and  within  the  limits  of  speculation,  from  the  influences  of  precon 
ceived  theories,  whether  fondly  cherished  by  their  originator,  or  tradition- 
ally accepted  from  revered  teachers ;  whether  adopted  or  defended 
through  the  pride  of  opinion,  the  tenacity  of  consistency,  or  the  heat  of 
controversy.  It  is  expressed  in  too  great  a  variety  of  forms,  and  under 
circumstances  too  much  unlike,  to  admit  the  supposition  of  any  common 
prejudice  or  common  interest.  We  are  forced  to  accept  the  common 
discourse  of  men  as  expressing  the  unbiassed  convictions  of  those  who 
are  competent  to  discern  and  decide  upon  the  truth. 

But  are  uncultivated  men  competent  to  understand  and  decide  upon  such 
truths  as  are  in  question  among  philosophers?     Let  it  be  granted  that  their 
men  know  ?  language  expresses  their  judgments,  and  that  these  judgments  are  worthy  to 

be  trusted  as  far  as  they  go.  But  do  they  reach  the  questions  and  distinctions 
of  the  schools  ?  Can  common  men  understand  these  questions  and  distinctions  ?  and  if  they 
cannot  understand  their  import,  how  can  they  decide  upon  their  validity  or  their  truth  ? 
These  inquiries  are  often  urged  in  the  way  of  exception  and  reply,  to  the  view  of  the  language 
of  common  life  that  has  been  expressed.  The  answer  is  brief,  and  it  ought,  as  it  seems  to  us, 
to  be  decisive.  The  facts  which  the  philosopher  seeks  to  discover  are  the  facts  or  phenomena 
which  are  common  to  all  men,  and  of  which  all  men  are  actually  conscious.  They  are  not  tha 
phenomena  which  are  experienced  exclusively  by  philosophers,  whether  in  the  form  of  knowl- 
edge or  of  feeling,  but  those  which  are  as  extensive  as  the  experience  of  the  human  race. 
What  all  men  experience  when  they  know  or  feel,  they  will  be  likely  to  express  in  language ; 
for  they  cannot  know  or  feel,  without  knowing  that  they  know  and  feel.  So  far,  then,  aa 
they  attend  to  these  processes,  and  express  in  language  what  they  discern,  they  are  likely  to 
express  the  real  facts  which  consciousness  discerns ;  and  these  are  the  very  facts  which  th« 
philosopher  desires  to  know.  They  will  not  use  the  language  of  the  schools,  for  this  is  to 
them  a  strange  tongue.  They  will  not  even  unde'/stand  this  language — they  will  not  be  able 
even  to  recognize  their  own  thoughts  and  their  own  beliefs  when  translated  into  this  language ; 
but  they  experience  all  the  phenomena  which  the  philosopher  compares,  classifies,  and  inter- 
prets, and  then  expresses  in  terms  that  are  technical  and  scholastic.  In  philosophizing  upon 
'lit s<!  facts  the  philosopher  is  liable  to  serious  mistakes  in  respect  to  the  facts  themselves,  and 
their  essential  elements. 

To  detect  and  correct  all   mistakes  of  philosophy,  the  un- 

The  language  of     ,.  .,  .  ,,  ,.,,      .         c 

common  life  use-    biassed  and  unreflecting  language  of  common  me  is  orten 
one  of  the  most  efficient  instrumentalities.      The  questions 
8 


J14  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  9P. 

are  often  grave  and  difficult.  What  are  the  original  or  elementary  facts 
of  human  experience  ?  What  would  analysis  show  to  be  the  real  and  the 
ultimate  elements  in  our  knowing  and  feeling  ?  To  answer  questions  like 
these,  there  is  no  readier  and  surer  expedient  than  to  ask,  How  do  men 
express  themselves  all  the  world  over,  when  they  have  no  theory  to  main- 
tain and  no  point  to  carry  ?  What  are  the  unthinking  utterances  of  com- 
mon men  ?  Language  is  thought  made  visible.  But  thought  is  belief 
that  something  is  true.  The  language  of  common  life  is,  then,  the  beliefs 
of  unbiassed  men  made  visible,  concerning  points  in  regard  to  which  we 
simply  desire  to  ascertain  what  their  unbiassed  consciousness  discerns  to 
be  true. 

.    8  98.   The  actions  of  men  are  also  of  great  importance  in 

The    actions    of     «  . 

men  also  an  im-    ascertaining  what  are  the  real  beliefs  of  men.     Their  actions 

portant    test    ot  ° 

tmth.  speak  louder  than  their  words.     When  the  actions  of  men 

can  only  be  explained  on  the  supposition  that  they  are  conscious  of  cei* 
tain  knowledges,  or  believe  certain  facts  which  they  may  deny  in  their 
philosophical  speculations,  or  do  not  provide  for  in  their  psychology,  we 
conclude  that  their  philosophy  is  defective  or  wrong.  We  appeal  from 
the  propositions  and  reasonings  of  the  reflective  consciousness,  to  those 
actual  beliefs  of  the  natural  consciousness  which  their  actions  demonstrate 
that  they  hold.  When  men  act  persistently  and  habitually  as  if  they  be- 
lieved certain  facts  were  true,  we  cannot  doubt  that  they  do  believe  them, 
however  they  may  seek  to  persuade  themselves  or  others  to  the  contrary. 
But  in  the  study  of  the  soul  it  is  always  an  important  problem  to  ascertain 
what  are  the  elementary  and  original  beliefs  of  which  men  are  conscious. 
When  these  are  ascertained  by  their  habitual  language  and  conduct,  it  .is 
with  great  confidence  that  we  proceed  to  examine  the  principles  which 
their  philosophy  assumes,  as  well  as  the  conclusions  which  they  derive 
from  them 

These  thoughts  suggest  the  truth,  which  ought  ever  to  be  kept  in  mind  and  applied,  that 
the  teacher  of  psychology  must  appeal  for  the  truth  of  his  assertions  to  the  consciousness  of 
the  learner.  He  can  communicate  nothing  upon  authority.  His  duty  is  to  ascertain  and 
classify  and  interpret  the  phenomena  of  his  own  soul,  and  to  set  forth  the  processes  and  the 
results  in  a  manner  so  clear  and  so  self-evidencing  that  his  pupils  will  be  enabled  to  consult 
their  own  consciousness  as  he  proceeds,  and  to  find  in  it  a  confirmation  of  all  which  he  pro- 
pounds. Whatever  is  asserted  by  the  teacher  or  guide,  should  be  constantly  met  with  the 
inquiry,  Is  this  confirmed  by  my  experience,  or  rendered  probable  by  the  analogous  facts 
which  tbi^s  experience  furnishes  ?  The  testimony  of  others,  and  the  authority  of  their  opin- 
ions, should  influence  us  greatly,  not  to  change  our  opinions  against  the  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness,  but  to  revise  these  opinions  with  care,  and  often  to  suspect  the  exactness  or  the  cando* 
of  our  own  observations,  whenever  the  weigh*  of  authority  is  against  our  own  convictions.  But 
in  psychology,  pur*  authority  has  no  weight  against  the  final  decision  of  consciousness  itself. 

Conditions  of  §  "•  To  reach  this  decision,  two  conditions  are  necessary : 
First^  that  we  folly  understand  the  questions  which  we  are 
to  decide,  in  all  their  import  and  in  all  the  relations  which 


§100.  THE   REFLECTIVE,    OR   PHILOSOPH ICAI,    CONSCIOUSNESS.  115 

Ihey  involve  ;  and  second,  that  we  patiently  and  candidly  use  all  the  appli- 
ances and  tests  which  are  at  hand  to  determine  the  answer.  The  greatest 
practical  difficulty  in  settling  questions  in  psychology  arises  from  the  circum- 
stance that  we  do  not,  first  and  foremost,  make  ourselves  fully  and  famil- 
iarly acquainted  with  the  questions  which  are  to  be  decided.  We  too 
often  assume  that  we  fully  understand  what  we  have  only  imperfectly 
mastered.  Or  if  we  apprehend  the  point  in  question  for  a  moment,  we 
fail  to  make  it  so  familiar  to  our  thoughts  as  is  necessary  in  order  to  view 
it  at  all  times  in  all  its  relations,  and  to  decide  with  a  full  and  distinct 
appreciation  of  the  entire  import  of  all  which  it  involves.  Men  are  reluc- 
tant to  bestow  this  preliminary  reflection,  because  they  think  that  they 
are  already  fully  acquainted  with  the  question  in  discussion,  and  the  terms 
and  distinctions  involved. 

All  men  know  something  about  their  own  souls,  and  are  able  to  pronounce  with  confi- 
dence upon  many  questions  that  are  in  controversy.  They  hastily  conclude  that  they  under- 
stand every  question  as  soon  as  it  is  propounded,  and  are  often  in  haste  to  decide,  before  they 
have  fairly  ascertained  what  the  question  is.  Hence  the  misunderstandings  and  disputes  be- 
tween men  who  are  apparently  in  earnest  to  discover  the  truth  ;  hence  the  warmth  with  whict. 
each  disputant  maintains  his  opinion,  and  the  obstinacy  with  which  he  defends  it  against 
attack.  Each  man  is  quite  certain  that  what  he  has  in  mind  is  true ;  but  is  he  equally  sure 
that  his  antagonist  and  himself  have  the  same  thing  in  mind  ?  or  that  either  has  all  and  no  more 
in  mind  than  is  properly  understood  by  the  terms  ?  All  men  know  something  about  psycholo- 
gy, therefore  many  men  decide  upon  any  question  which  comes  before  them  before  they  have 
been  careful  to  learn  what  the  question  is.  All  men  are  theologians  and  metaphysicians  by 
nature  ;  therefore  they  conclude  that  there  is  no  question  in  theology  or  philosophy  which 
they  are  not  at  once  competent  to  decide.  They  pronounce  upon  a  problem  before  they  are 
fully  possessed  of  the  terms,  the  data,  or  the  means  of  solving  it.  The  very  energy  with  which 
they  attend  to  some  phenomena,  and  the  blind  impetuosity  with  which  these  facts  drive  them 
to  a  conclusion,  render  it  impossible  that  they  should  attend  to  all  the  facts.  The  exemplari- 
oess,  with  which  they  comply  with  one  of  the  conditions  of  successful  reflection — viz.,  that  they 
attend — confirms  them  in  the  belief  that  they  have  complied  with  the  second,  viz.,  that  they 
attend  to  all  the  phenomena.  They  do  not  suspect  that  they  have  failed  in  the  second, 
through  the  earnestness  with  which  they  obey  the  first ! 

Uncertainty  and  §  ^0.  These  considerations  explain  in  part  the  apparent  para 
^holo^'ex-  ^OX  or  contradictiQn  in  terms  which  is  presented  in  the  claim, 
plained.  on  the  one  side,  that  the  facts  of  consciousness  are  the  most 

certain  of  all  facts,  and  in  the  notorious  fact,  on  the  other,  that  many  of 
the  simplest  and  most  fundamental  principles  in  psychology  are  yet  unde 
?ided,  while  its  philosophical  theories  are  the  endless  themes  for  never 
settled  controversy. 

The  claim  is  a  just  one.  The  facts  of  consciousness  are  the  most  cer- 
tain of  all  facts.  The  objects  which  consciousness  presents  are,  if  possible, 
more  real  and  better  attested  than  the  objects  of  sense.  We  can  question 
\vhether  the  eye  and  the  ear  do  not  deceive  us  ;  whether  the  sights  which 
we  see  and  the  sounds  which  we  hear  are  not  illusions.  We  ask,  a/ 


116  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §100 

times,  whether  this  entire  sensible  world  is  not  a  succession  of  shifting 
phantasmagoria;  but  we  cannot  doubt  whether  we  perform  the  acts  of 
seeing  and  hearing.  We  may  question  whether  these  objects  are  what 
they  seem  to  be,  but  not  whether  certain  acts  are  in  reality  performed. 
We  may  doubt  whether  this  or  that  object  be  a  reality  or  a  phantasm,  but 
we  cannot  doubt  that  we  doubt.  Nothing  in  the  universe  is  so  certain, 
and  deserves  so  well  to  be  trusted,  as  the  psychical  phenomena  of  which 
each  man  is  conscious. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  fact  adduced  in  objection  cannot  be  disputed. 
Psychology  is  unsettled,  and  every  treatise  which  professes  to  give  the 
facts  of  the  soul  in  scientific  form  and  relations,  abounds  in  criticisms  of 
theories  that  are  still  adhered  to,  and  in  controversy  against  opinions  that 
are  maintained  by  eminent  writers.  How  can  this  fact  be  reconciled  with 
the  claims  to  superior  clearness  and  certainty  that  are  asserted  for  the 
facts  of  consciousness  ? 

The  positions  which  we  have  laid  down  in  respect  to  the  relations  of 
the  natural  to  the  reflective  consciousness,  enable  us  to  reconcile  this  appar- 
ent inconsistency.  First  of  all  it  is  to  be  noticed,  that  there  is  as  much 
vagueness  and  dispute  in  respect  to  the  less  obvious  conceptions  and  rela- 
'tions  of  material  objects,  as  in  respect  to  the  more  recondite  relations  of 
psychical  phenomena.  The  obvious  facts  and  relations  of  matter  are 
accepted  without  controversy,  and  are  described  in  popular  language. 
Those  which  are  less  obvious,  or  which  involve  nice  observation,  careful 
discrimination,  or  some  speculative  assumption,  are  quite  as  much  in  con- 
troversy as  are  the  obvious  phenomena  of  the  soul  when  subjected  to 
philosophical  elaboration.  The  metaphysics  of  mathematics,  of  physics, 
of  chemistry,  are  as  much  in  doubt  and  controversy  as  are  the  meta- 
physics of  psychical  facts.  It  is  because  psychology  always  resolves  itself 
into  metaphysics,  that  psychology  always  rushes  into  controversy. 

Moreover,  it  not  only  concerns  itself  with  its  own  metaphysics — those  which  are  approprl 
ate  to  its  own  facts — but  it  shoulders  the  metaphysics  of  all  the  material  sciences,  and  trans- 
fers to  its  own  arena  the  smoke  and  dust  that  properly  belong  to  the  doubtful  questions  on 
other  fields,  and  therefore  incurs  the  special  reproach  to  which  we  have  alluded.  One  reason 
why  psychology  is  always  vague  and  unsettled,  is  that  it  attempts  more  than  do  the  physical  sci- 
ences, going  more  deeply  than  they  into  the  philosophy  of  its  appropriate  facts.  Another  rea- 
son is,  that  the  reflective  consciousness  always  aims  to  give  the  philosophical  relations  and 
explanations  and  definitions  of  psychical  facts.  Indeed,  the  language  of  common  life  does  to 
a  certain  extent  embody  a  philosophy,  as  well  as  utter  the  beliefs  of  the  natural  consciousness. 
When,  then,  it  is  asserted  that  the  facts  of  spiritual  experience  are  better  worthy  to  be  trusted 
than  the  facts  of  sense  and  of  matter,  it  is  oiJy  claimed,  that  what  is  experienced,  as  experi- 
enced, is  worthy  of  confidence,  and  actually  secures  it ;  not  that,  when  it  is  expressed  in  lan- 
guage, especially  in  the  language  of  the  schools,  it  is  placed  on  higher  grounds  of  certainty. 
It  is  what  we  experience  in  the  natural  consciousness,  not  what  is  philosophized  upon  in  the 
reSective  consciousness,  that  deserves  and  receives  such  implicit  trust.  We  grant  that  it  ig 
no",  so  easy  to  .shape  our  philosophy  by  our  facts,  nor  to  test  our  philosophy  by  our  facts,  us 
the  psychical  as  in  the  physical  sciences.  This  leads  us  to  observe  that : 


§101.  THE   REFLECTIVE,    OR   PHILOSOPHICAL   CONSCIOUSNESS.  117 

8  101.   The  peculiar  difficulties  which  the  student  cf  psv 

Peculiar  difficul-      8  ....  *  J 

ties  in  the  study    choloery  must  expect  to  encounter  will  be  suggested  by  the 

of  the  soul.  i       •         i  •   i  i  •  />  ,1  if 

analysis  which  we  have  given  01  the  two  sorts  01  conscious- 
ness. They  are  the  following  : 

First :  The  objects  of  contemplation  are  not,  as  in  the  material  world, 
permanent  objects,  to  which  the  mind  can  come  and  go,  so  as  to  bestow 
repeated  observations,  till  every  feature  and  relation  has  been  carefully 
and  minutely  examined.  In  the  science  of  the  soul,  the  objects — i.  e.,  the 
phenomena — cease  to  be,  while  consciousness  surveys  them.  Material 
objects  become  more  vivid  and  distinct  the  more  keenly  the  attention  is 
fixed  upon  them ;  but  the  objects  of  consciousness  are  consumed  by  the 
concentrated  gaze  of  reflection  which  would  master  the  secrets  of  their 
being.  The  repeated  creation  of  a  similar  object  for  the  second  applica- 
tion of  consciousness  is  the  only  substitute  for  the  continued  examination 
of  the  same  object. 

Second :  Two  observers,  and,  if  need  be,  twenty,  or  twenty  thousand, 
can  examine  and  Heexamine  the  same  material  object.  But  the  objects  of 
the  soul  can  be  surveyed  by  a  single  observer  for  a  single  instant  only. 
If  many  observers  agree  to  examine  in  order  to  analyze  what  they  con- 
ceive to  be  the  same  object,  it  is  sometimes  difficult  for  them  to  be  entirely 
sure  that  the  objects  before  their  minds  are  actually  the  same. 

Third :  The  testimony  or  report  which  one  observer  brings  of  his  ex- 
amination, cannot  avail  as  a  substitute  for  personal  inspection  by  the  stu- 
dent himself.  Should  he  even  confide  entirely  in  the  competence  and  the 
candor  of  another  party,  he  needs  to  observe  for  himself  in  order  to  be 
bure  of  the  identity  of  the  object  concerning  which  he  accepts  the  testi- 
mony of  another. 

Fourth :  Objects  of  sense  are  clearly  distinguished  from  and  set  over 
against  the  soul  that  observes  them.  In  the  very  act  of  observation  the 
<*oul  separates  them  from  itself.  Objects  of  the  soul  are  known  not  to  be 
severed  in  fact  from  the  soul  which  observes.  For  the  soul  attentively 
to  view  its  own  states  as  objects  to  itself,  there  is  required  a  special  and 
constrained  effort.  "  The  understanding,"  says  Locke,  "  like  the  eye,  while 
it  makes  us  see  and  perceive  all  other  things,  takes  no  notice  of  itself;  and 
it  requires  art  and  pains  to  set  it  at  a  distance,  and  make  it  its  own 
object." 

Fifth  :  The  act  of  reflection,  or  second-thinking,  for  the  sole  purpose 
of  examining  the  nature  of  the  act  or  state  already  experienced,  is  espe- 
cially artificial,  and  against  nature,  for  the  reason  that  men  usually  act  for 
gome  direct  object  of  use,  enjoyment,  or  duty,  and,  in  thus  acting,  their 
took  must  necessarily  be  outward  and  objective.  It  is  necessary,  if  men 
would  act  with  interest  and  energy,  that  their  feelings  be  strongly  aroused 
by  the  object  itself.  But  to  reproduce  the  act  a  second  time,  or  its  pale 
reflection,  for  the  sole  purpose  of  seeing  of  what  sort  or  nature  it  is,  is  not 


J18  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §101 

natural,  because  most  men  are  not  greatly  interested  to  know  thoroughly 
and  scientifically  what  their  actions  are.  Or,  if  they  are  interested  in  this 
as  an  end,  yet  the  reproduction,  and  the  continuation  through  successive 
reproductions  of  an  act  or  state,  for  the  mere  object  of  examining  its 
nature,  is  embarrassed  by  the  difficulty  of  reproducing  it  without  the  ex- 
citement of  its  appropriate  object.  We  perceive,  remember,  and  imagine, 
hope  and  fear,  choose  and  reject,  naturally  and  readily  enough,  when  the 
objects  arouse  and  excite  us  ;  but  to  perceive  and  re-perceive,  to  hope  and 
fear  again  and  again,  simply  that  we  may  know  more  exactly  how  it 
seems  or  what  it  is  to  perform  or  experience  these  states,  are,  at  best, 
forced  and  unnatural  efforts.  Nothing  but  the  deepest  convictions  of  the 
dignity  and  value  of  the  results  in  the  acquisition  of  intellectual  dis- 
cipline and  the  advancement  of  psychological  science,  can  impel  to  the 
earnest  undertaking  of  such  efforts,  and  the  patient  prosecution  of  them  to 
a  successful  issue. 

Sixth  :  The  objects  of  matter  invite  to  analysis  by  their  obtrusive  like- 
nesses and  differences.  The  phenomena  of  the  soul  do*  not  present  such 
obvious  occasions  for  analysis.  Material  objects  do,  as  it  were,  indicate  by 
dividing  lines,  by  intersecting  seams,  by  salient  and  projecting  points,  the 
sections  into  which  the  object  falls  apart  under  the  eye  of  analysis.  In- 
deed, Nature  herself  is  continually  separating  and  combining  these  objects 
before  our  eyes,  changing  color  and  form,  disintegrating  and  throwing 
apart  the  diverse  materials  which  are  aggregated  into  masses  by  mechan- 
ical attraction ;  as  when  the  frost  breaks  up  and  rolls  out  the  different 
ingredients  of  a  rock ;  or  decomposes  the  ingredients  chemically  united, 
as  when,  in  fermentation  or  by  heat  or  solvents,  gases  and  precipitates 
betray  their  presence  to  the  senses.  The  so-called  five  senses  can  no  sooner 
be  applied  together  or  in  succession  to  any  object,  than  they  begin  at  once 
to  suggest  five  sets  of  qualities  or  attributes,  to  say  nothing  of  new  rela- 
tions of  extension  and  of  number. 

To  the  analysis  of  the  phenomena  of  the  soul  there  are  no  such  for- 
ward promptings  of  nature.  A  psychical  state,  when  viewed  by  con- 
sciousness, does  not  suggest  diverse  attributes  or  relations.  To  bring 
these  to  light,  it  must  be  brought  into  comparison  with  states  like  and  un« 
like  itself.  These  must  be  recalled  by  memory,  and  vividly  reproduced  to 
the  imagination.  One  state  must  be  artificially  confronted  with  another, 
for  the  sake  of  evolving  some  common  points  of  likeness  or  contrast 

All  these  circumstances  combined  explain  the  inherent  difficulties  of  philosophical  self 
observation,  and  the  slow  progress  and  the  uncertain  conquests  of  the  science  of  the  soul  in 
contrast  with  the  rapid  advances  and  the  certain  results  of  the  science  of  matter.  The  historj 
of  psychology  is  not,  however,  without  gratifying  attestations  that  its  progress,  thai^h  slow 
ffi  real,  and  that  its  acquisitions,  though  often  disputed,  are  more  and  more  assured. 


8  103.  SENSE-PERCEPTION. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

SENSE-PERCEPTION:  THE  CONDITIONS  AND  THE  PBOCESS. 

From  consciousness,  as  the  first  faculty  or  form  of  presentative  knowledge,  which  is  concerned 
with  the  objects  of  spirit  and  their  relations,  we  proceed  to  the  second,  which  is  concerned 
with  the  objects  and  relations  of  matter.  We  define 

8  102.    Sense-perception  as  that  power  of  the  intellect  by 

Sense-perception      °      .         .  If  f  J 

defined  and  dis-    which  it  gains  the  knowledge  of  material  obiects.     It  is  also 

tinguished.  s       .  * 

called  sensible  perception,  or  simply,  perception.  We  apply 
these  terms  to  the  power,  the  act,  and  even  to  the  object.  Thus  we  say, 
Man  is  endowed  with  perception ;  i.  e.,  with  the  power  to  perceive.  We 
say,  My  perception  of  the  color  or  sound  was  clear  and  vivid — describing 
the  act  of  perceiving.  We  also  ask,  Do  you  recall  certain  perceptions,  as 
of  color  or  form  ? — emphasizing  the  object. 

The  terms  to  perceive  and  perception,  are  applied  freely  to  other  acts  and  objects  of 
knowledge  besides  those  which  require  the  agency  of  the  senses.  We  are  said  to  perceive,  and 
to  have  perceptions  of  mathematical  distinctions,  of  the  drift  and  force  of  reasoning,  of  the 
design  of  a  machine,  and  of  the  purpose  of  an  antagonist.  But  perception,  in  the  technical 
and  limited  sense  of  the  term,  is  appropriated  to  the  knowledge  of  material  objects,  and  of 
the  external  world.  This  knowledge  is  gained  or  acquired  by  means  of  the  senses,  and  hence, 
to  be  more  exact,  we  call  it  sensible  perception,  or,  more  b'iefly,  sense-perception. 

is  developed  ear-    8  103.    Sense-perception    is    called  into  activity  first   of   all 

liest  of   all    the      '  _      ,  ,<.»,,.*., 

powers,    seems    the  powers  of  the  intellect.     It  is  educated  and  fully  devel- 

to  be  the    most  *  .  . 

familiar.  oped  in  our  earliest  years,  at  a  period  and  by  processes  which 

we  cannot  distinctly  recall  to  memory.  Its  objects  occupy  the  almost 
exclusive  attention  of  the  great  majority  of  men,  and  excite  their  most 
absorbing  interest  and  their  strongest  passions.  It  is  also  the  essential 
condition  and  attendant  of  their  higher  knowledge  and  beliefs.  For  all 
these  and  other  reasons,  it  naturally  receives  the  earliest  attention  in  the 
&tudy  of  the  intellectual  powers. 

The  processes  of  sense-perception  seem  to  most  men  to  be  the  most  familiar  and  the  best 
understood  of  all  their  intellectual  acts.  They  introduce  them  to  those  sensible  and  material 
objects  which  are  generally  believed  to  be  the  most  real  of  all  existences.  They  minister 
pleasures  and  pains,  and  excite  passions  which  take  the  strongest  hold  of  man's  nature.  Theit 
ictivity  is  more  constant,  unremitted,  and  energetic  than  is  that  of  any  other  function.  So  long 
as  man  continues  to  exist  m  the  present  form  and  conditions  of  his  being,  he  never  ceases  to 
perr.eivs.  Some  of  the  senses  are  all  the  while  in  action.  Sense-perceptions  are  present  in 
bis  loftiest  speculations  and  his  most  refined  reasonings.  They  often  force  themselves  upon 
the  reluctant  attention.  The  world  of  sense  holds  man  to  its  realities  in  the  most  ethereal  of 


•20 


THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  105 


his  flights,  and  never  ceases  to  be  the  dark  or  radiant  background  to  the  brightest  pictures  of 
his  fancy.  Sensations  visit  man  in  sleep.  They  disturb  or  soothe  his  repose.  They  haunt  him 
in  his  very  dreams.  With  sensations  and  sense-perceptions  man  begins  and  ends  his  earthlj 
existence. 

§  104.  But  though  this  power  is  developed  so  early  and 
SsSy*  thuiuieS  exercised  so  constantly,  and,  at  first  view,  seems  so  easy  to 

be  understood ;  it  is  far  from  easy  to  analyze  its  elements,  or 
to  explain  its  processes.  To  understand  sense-perception,  we  must  study 
the  body  as  well  as  the  mind ;  we  must  trace  out,  and,  as  it  were,  unwind 
the  subtle  connections  by  which  the  two  are  united  ;  we  must  show  how 
far  the  one  is  dependent  on  the  other ;  what  each  furnishes  toward  the 
result,  and  what  are  the  separable  acts  or  processes  in  which  the  action 
of  each  may  be  distinguished. 

In  point  of  fact,  the  power  of  sense-perception  has  received  a  greater  share  of  attention 
in  the  science  of  the  soul  than  all  the  other  powers  and  faculties  united.  This  can  be 
accounted  for,  because  it  would  naturally  first  attract  the  attention,  seeming  to  be  the  easiest 
to  be  understood  because  the  most  familiar.  Being  found  to  be  difficult  of  analysis  and  expla- 
nation, it  would  detain  and  hold  the  attention,  because  the  mind  was  puzzled  and  disturbed  by 
these  unexpected  difficulties.  Its  phenomena  are  dependent  on  material  conditions,  and 
physical  or  material  explanations  would  be  readily  suggested  to  account  for  them.  These  are 
»-eadily  resorted  to  in  the  infancy  of  psychology. 

For  all  these  reasons  we  can  understand  how  it  has  happened  that  theories  of  perception 
oave  occasioned  more  speculation  and  more  controversy  than  theories  on  every  other  subject 
in  psychological  science.  Not  only  have  they  misled  men  in  respect  to  their  proper  subject- 
matter,  but  they  have  led  to  incorrect  conceptions  of  the  soul  itself,  and  to  erroneous  views 
of  all  the  other  powers.  Many  of  them  have  involved  materialistic  assumptions,  or  have 
logically  required  the  grossest  materialism  as  their  necessary  consequent.  Such  inferences 
have  been  actually  accepted  by  many  as  the  result  of  a  false  or  inadequate  theory  of  seuse- 
Derception. 

8  105.    The  first  requisite  to  a  correct  theory  of  perception 

Distinguished  * 

from  other  men-  is  to  separate  the  act  from  every  other  with  which  it  is  likely 
to  be  confounded.  As  the  power  gives  us  knowledge  of 
material  objects,  it  is  not  unnatural  to  suppose  or  hastily  to  conclude  that 
much,  if  not  all  the  knowledge  which  we  have  of  matter,  is  gained  by  this 
process  alone.  A  more  careful  examination  shows  that  we  gain  very  much 
»>f  our  knowledge  of  these  objects  by  the  exercise  of  the  other  and  higher 
intellectual  powers.  This  examination  can  be  conducted  most  successfully 
by  taking  a  single  example  of  some  well-known  object^  and  inquiring  how 
great  a  share  of  our  knowledge  of  it  we  do,  and  how  great  we  do  not 
gain  by  sense-perception. 

Knowledge     of  ^e  se^ect  an  orange,  kad  inquire  first  what  acts  of  knowledge  in  respect  to 

matter  not  gain-  it  are  not  acts  of  perception ;  and  second,  what  knowledge  is  properly 
ed  by  sense-per-  .,  ,  ,  .,  .  .,  .  .  ,  ,,r  ,  ,,  ,,  . 

ception.  ascribed  to  this  power  as  its  proper  origin  and  source.     We  shall  then  be 

prepared  to  consider  how  this  power  can  be  defined,  and  what  are  the  ele 
ments  into  which  it  can  be  resolved. 

We  first  look  at  the  orange,  and  immediately  supply  the  half  which  we  do  not  see — the 


§  106.  SENSE-PERCEPTION.  121 

ponion  of  the  sphere  which  is  hidden.  We  know,  or  believe,  the  orange  to  be  spherical  The 
part  which  we  supply  we  do  not  perceive  by  the  eye  of  the  body  ;  we  only  image  it  to  th« 
4  mind's  eye.'  If  we  close  the  eyes,  we  can  with  the  eye  of  the  mind  picture  and  discern  the 
yellow  orange  ;  but  the  orange  which  we  know  in  this  way  we  do  not  perceive.  We  may  imagine 
the  color  to  be  changed,  and  make  it  green,  or  blue,  to  the  mental  vision.  We  can  change 
its  form  even,  and  make  it  elliptical  ;  we  can  enlarge  or  contract  its  dimensions,  without  chang- 
ing  its  form.  All  these  are  acts  of  imagination  or  representation,  but  not  acts  of  perception, 

We  can  separate  its  form,  as  spherical,  from  all  material  reality,  and  can  construct  the 
abstract  or  mathematical  sphere  for  the  mind  to  consider  and  analyze.  We  can  reflect  on  its 
properties  and  its  relations  to  the  circle  by  the  revolution  of  which  it  is  conceived  to  be  pro- 
duced. The  discernment  of  the  mathematical  forms,  properties,  and  relations  which  may  be 
applied  to  the  orange  is  not  perception. 

We  know,  or  believe,  that  the  orange  has  sensible  qualities,  as  of  taste,  color,  feeling,  smell, 
and  that  all  these  are  inherent  in  or  belong  to  the  something  which  we  call  their  substance. 
The  knowledge  of  the  orange  as  substance  and  qualities  is  not  necessarily  involved  in  perception. 

We  observe  that  other  objects  possess  qualities  like  some  of  those  which  belong  to  the 
orange  —  that  some  are  yellow,  others  are  round,  etc.  —  and  are  therefore  properly  classed  with 
it  and  receive  a  common  appellation.  But  classification  and  naming  are  not  perception. 

We  can  know  that  this  fruit  has  been  produced  by  the  powers  and  under  the  laws  which 
are  appropriate  to  vegetable  life  ;  or,  in  other  words,  that  it  is  an  effect  of  certain  agencies 
which  we  can  satisfactorily  determine.  Knowledge  of  this  sort  is  not  essential  to  perception. 

We  can  know,  by  reasoning,  that  it  will  produce  certain  effects  if  eaten,  or  used  in  illness; 
but  this  we  do  not  know  by  simple  perception. 

We  can  go  still  further,  and  know,  or  certainly  believe,  that  it  is  adapted  to  and  was  de- 
signed for  certain  uses  or  ends  ;  that  it  exists  or  was  produced  with  reference  to  these  ends  — 
as  to  minister  comfort  and  afford  nutriment  to  man.  The  knowledge  of  designs  and  uses  is 
not  necessarily  present  in  the  simplest  forms  of  perception. 

It  is  evident  that  all  these  acts  of  knowledge  may  be  performed  upon  or  with 
\Vhat  are  acts  respect  to  the  orange,  and  that  none  of  them  are  simply  acts  of  sense-percep- 
tion T  tion.  It  is  equally  clear  that  there  are  other  acts  which  are  the  prerequisites 

to  these  ;  so  that,  if  we  did  not  know  something  more  of  the  orange  than 
we  acquire  in  these  ways,  we  could  never  know  the  orange  by  these  higher  methods.  Thia 
preliminary  knowledge  remains  to  be  considered,  after  these  higher  processes  are  set  aside. 


preliminary  knowledge,  and  what  the 
bhasen  -e  ^erce  d  Processes  ^7  which  it  is  gained  ?  We  answer  at  once,  It  is 
lton-  the  knowledge  which  is  necessarily  involved  in  the  use  of  the 

organs  of  sense,  or  of  the  senses. 

Let  us  try  the  senses  upon  the  orange,  one  by  one;  and  first  the  sense 
of  smell,  suspending  the  action  of  every  other.  We  perceive  a  grateful 
odor,  and  that  is  all  we  know  of  the  orange  by  this  means.  Should  or 
could  we  remain  in  this  supposed  condition,  this  is  all  that  we  should  ever 
know  of  it. 

We  open  the  ear,  and  the  orange  falls,  or  is  struck.  We  hear  the 
sound  from  the  fall,  or  the  stroke,  and  this  is  all  that  we  know  by  the  ear. 

We  taste  the  orange.  At  once  two  kinds  of  knowledge  are  given,  aa 
two  senses  awake  to  action  —  the  senses  of  taste  and  of  touch.  For  the 
tongue  is  as  truly  an  organ  of  touch  as  it  is  of  taste.  But  if  we  could 
separate  the  touch  from  the  taste,  we  should  perceive  the  flavor  cnly. 


122  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §100. 

We  grasp  it  .with  the  hand,  first  lightly,  so  as  only  to  be  aware  of  itt 
presence,  then  with  greater  force  of  pressure,  so  as  to  encounter  resist- 
ance. We  pass  the  hand  over  the  surface,  and  perceive  that  it  is  smooth 
or  rough.  We  come  to  its  limits ;  for  the  hand  is  in  contact  with  another 
something.  This  object  can  be  separated  from  the  orange.  It  can  by  the 
hand  be  brought  near  or  removed  from  it.  Through  the  hand  we  can  per 
ceive  the  object  as  impinging  and  resisting,  as  smooth  or  rough,  as  having 
extension  and  form. 

Last  of  all,  we  open  the  eye.  A  surface  of  color  presents  itself,  sepa- 
rated from  other  shaded  and  colored  surfaces  by  an  encircling  ring.  The 
color  is  shaded  by  the  most  delicate  transitions,  deepening  here,  almost 
vanishing  there.  As  the  orange  is  near  o*  remote,  the  limiting  or  bound- 
ing circle  widens  or  is  contracted,  and  the  colors  are  feeble  or  bright. 
The  eye  gives  colored  extension,  form,  motion,  and  relative  size.  Were 
we  all  eye,  wTe  should  perceive  nothing  more. 

In  connection  with  the  use  of  these  organs,  we  perceive  or  are  aware 
of  certain  changing  affections  that  attend  upon  the  varying  condition  of 
the  muscles  that  direct  and  move  the  sense-organs.  We  knowr  the  mus- 
cles as  tense  and  as  relaxed.  We  apprehend  the  affection  that  belongs  to 
the  grasp  that  is  firm  and  that  which  is  relaxed  ;  the  feeling  that  attends 
the  stretching  forth  and  the  withdrawment  of  the  hand.  Certain  vital 
and  muscular  affections  are  known  in  connection  with  the  sense-percep- 
tions. 

These  various  knowledges,  or  percepts,  obtained  by  these  several 
means,  we  combine  into  one  separate  and  single  object,  occupying  a  lim- 
ited portion  of  space.  The  process  of  perception  is  not  complete  till  we 
have  attained  the  knowledge  of  single  objects,  made  up  by  the  mind  of 
separate  parts  corresponding  to  the  several  senses,  and  having  definite 
relations  of  form  and  magnitude.  Such  an  object  we  call  a  material  thing. 
When  we  have  gained  such  a  knowledge  of  the  object  as  enables  us  to 
recall  and  otherwise  use  it  as  a  mental  representation  or  object,  we  have 
completed  all  that  is  essential  to  the  process.  In  other  words,  we  per- 
ceive objects  when  we  can  retain  and  revive  representations  or  images  of 
them  as  separate  things  or  wholes. 

Much  of  our  knowledge  of  sense-objects  is  acquired  indirectly.  We 
make  the  knowledge  received  by  one  sense  a  substitute  for  that  which  we 
might  receive  by  another.  Thus,  by  the  color  of  the  orange  we  know  its 
taste ;  by  its  appearance  to  the  eye,  its  feeling  to  the  hand — whethe?  it  is 
hard  or  soft,  whether  it  is  green  or  ripe.  We  know  an  object  to  be  near, 
by  the  distinctness  or  sharpness  of  its  outline  and  the  vividness  of  its 
color.  We  know  it  is  remote  by  the  dimness  of  the  line  and  the  dulness 
of  the  color.  We  determine  its  distance  by  its  size,  and  its  size  by  its 
distance.  Knowledge  obtained  by  such  processes  is  called  acquired  per- 
ception. The  knowledge  of  sense-objects  under  the  relations  of  substance 


§  108.  THE   CONDITIONS    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  12? 

and  qualities  involves  the  application  of  still  higher  relations  and  powers 
of  the  intellect. 

genera^  outline  or  preliminary  analysis  of  sense 


Results  of  anai 

sis.  Eight  topics    perception   has   shown  that   it  is    dependent   on   corporea. 

organs  or  instruments  ;  that  it  is  attended  by  special  sensa- 
tions, each  differing  in  quality  and  intensity  according  to  the  constitution 
and  condition  of  its  appropriate  organ  ;  that  in  connection  with  each  of 
these  sensations  we  gain  a  positive  knowledge  of  material  objects  ;  that  we 
unite  these  knowledges,  so  as  to  gain  and  retain  perceptions  of  separate 
material  things,  and  that  we  gain  this  knowledge  of  things  both  by  direct 
observation  and  indirect  inference.  It  also  opens  for  us  the  following  dis- 
tinct topics  of  inquiry  : 

I.  The  conditions  or  media  of  Sense-Perception.—  TL.  The  process  of 
Sense-Perception,  in  its  two  elements  of  Sensation  and  Perception.  — 
III.  The  classes  of  Sense-  Perceptions.  —  IV.  The  acquired  Sense-Percep- 
tions. —  V.  The  development  and  growth  of  Sense-Perception.  —  VI.  The, 
products  of  Sense-Perception.  —  VII.  Activity  of  the  Soul  in  Sense-Percep- 
tion. —  VIIL  Theories  of  Sense-Perception. 

I.  The  conditions  or  media  of  sense-perception. 

§  108.   We  perceive  by  means  of  certain  bodily  organs,  and 

The    conditions      '  .  , 

enumerated,    on  the  condition  that  these  organs  are  excited  bv  their  ap- 

The  first  condi-  w 

hon.  propriate   objects  or  stimuli,  and  that  the  nervous  system 

with  which  these  organs  are  connected,  shares  in  this  excitation.  These 
conditions  of  sense-perception  are  purely  physiological,  and  are  discovered 
by  the  senses.  The  first  condition  is  the  existence  of  a  material,  nervous, 
and  sensorial  organism. 

To  understand  the  structure  and  office  of  the  organs  of  sense-perception,  and 
The  material  or-  tneir  relation  to  psychical  experience  and  activities,  we  must  consider  some 
gaarism.  general  facts  in  the  structure  of  the  body  of  which  these  organs  are  a  part. 

The  human  body  is  material  in  its  composition  ;  i.  e.,  it  consists  of  particles 
of  matter  which  are  endowed  with  the  properties,  and  subject  to  the  laws  which  belong  to 
matter  in  general.  Its  skeleton  is  a  framework  of  bones,  the  parts  of  which,  h'ke  those  of 
any  other  framework,  can  be  broken  into  fragments  by  a  blow  or  a  fall.  These  are  fitted 
together  with  obvious  mechanical  ingenuity,  and  are  firmly  held  in  their  places  by  strong  and 
well-banded  ligaments.  This  framework  is  so  shaped  and  adjusted  as  to  serve  as  the  support 
of  the  muscles,  which  both  hold  the  parts  together  and  wall  in  the  principal  cavities.  They 
also  originate  and  convey  motion  —  the  motions  of  the  several  parts,  and  of  the  whole,  accord 
ing  to  mechanical  laws.  The  several  cavities  of  the  trunk  contain  special  organs,  which, 
with  their  connected  tubes,  digest  the  food,  assimilate  the  nutriment,  circulate  the  blood  and 
other  fluids,  and  aerate  the  blood  through  the  expanding  lungs  by  contact  with  the  oxygen  of 
the  atmosphere.  These  parts,  with  the  nervous  system,  constitute  an  organism,  or  organic 
whole.  Such  an  organism  differs  from  a  machine,  in  that  each  of  its  separate  material  parts 
performs  certain  functions,  as  digestion,  secretion,  circulation,  respiration,  each  of  which  is 
peculiar,  and  appropriate  to  no  other  organ.  This  function  is  essential  to  the  existence  an<7 


124  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  108, 

Action  of  every  other  organ,  and  to  the  performance  of  its  special  function  ;  while  ah  must  act 
together  in  order  to  further  or  render  possible  the  special  action  of  each.  The  united  action 
of  the  whole  is  essential  to  the  separate  action  of  each  part ;  and  the  separate  action  of  each 
part  is  essential  to  the  united  action  of  the  whole.  If  digestion  is  weakened  or  arrested,  the 
blood  ceases  to  move  and  the  lungs  to  expand,  or  both  these  functions  are  irregularly  and 
imperfectly  performed.  Death  may  ensue.  That  which  showed  itself  to  be  alive,  by  the  perform- 
ance  of  all  these  functions,  now  shows  itself  to  be  dead  by  performing  them  no  more.  The 
matter  of  which  it  was  composed  is  given  over  to  those  agents  of  decomposition  which  they 
before  resisted,  and  the  particles  themselves  are  disintegrated,  and  fall  asunder.  The  once 
liviug  organism  is  now  dead  matter. 

In  this  living  organism  is  present  a  system  of  organs,  con- 
The  nervous  sys-  sisting  of  the  brain,  the  ganglia,  and  the  nerves.  The  nerves 

are  filaments  which  terminate  on  every  surface  and  at  every 
extremity  of  the  body,  and  penetrate  every  portion,  even  the  very  bones. 
They  are  interlaced  with  one  another,  and  are  occasionally  expanded  into 
targe  knots  or  masses  of  their  substance.  These  expansions  are  called 
ganglia,  and  serve  as  independent  centres  of  nervous  activity  and  force 
The  nerves  increase  in  size  as  they  approach  the  ganglia,  the  spinal  mar- 
row, and  the  brain.  By  means  of  the  ganglia  and  the  spinal  marrow,  they 
are  all  connected  with  the  brain,  which  is  itself  a  larger  ganglion,  or  sys- 
tem of  ganglia — a  large  convoluted  mass  made  up  of  the  same  two  species 
of  matter  of  which  the  whole  nervous  system  consists.  This  system  of 
nerves  performs  several  distinct  functions,  all  important  to  the  life  and 
well-being  of  the  body.  If  some  or  all  of  the  nerves  are  diseased,  single 
organs  fail,  or  the  entire  body  perishes.  If  the  spinal  marrow  is  injured 
by  disease  or  violence,  the  limbs  are  wholly  or  in  part  disabled.  If  the 
brain  is  shocked  by  concussion,  life  is  suspended,  or  returns  no  more. 

The  function  of  the  nervous  system  with  which  we  are 
The  sensorium.  specially  concerned,  relates  to  sensation.  To  fit  the  nerves 

for  this  function,  they  are  connected  with  various  organs,  the 
most  noticeable  of  which  are  the  eye,  the  ear,  the  nostril,  the  hand.  These 
are  framed  with  special  adaptation  to  their  appropriate  objects,  and  suffer 
certain  changes  or  impressions  from  these  objects,  all  of  which  are  iieces- 
ary  to  the  sense-perception.  These  organs,  with  the  nerves  attached,  as 
capable  of  the  sentient  functions  in  an  animated  or  living  organism,  are 
known  by  the  collective  term,  the  sensorium,  or  sensory.  The  term  is 
technical,  and  is  appropriate  to  those  organs  and  nerves,  and  only  those, 
which  bear  some  part  in  the  process  of  perception,  and  so  far  only  as  their 
function  relates  to  this  process. 

We  must  notice  another  function  of  the  nervous  system 
5?tiieene?TaeCsion  w^ich  ^s  intimately  connected  with  perception,  viz.,  their 

capacity  for  reflex  action.  The  nervous  filaments  which  pro- 
seed  from  the  external  and  other  organs  run  side  by  side  in  pairs,  two 
being  united  within  the  same  co\ering  or  sheath,  and  connected  by  inter 
woven  fibres.  If  any  part  where  they  terminate  is  irritated,  or  excited 


§  109.  THE   CONDITIONS    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTION.  125 

in  any  way,  one  of  these  filaments  conveys  the  notice  to  the  brain  or 
ganglion,  and  the  other  conveys  the  stimulus  back  to  the  place  where  the 
impression  or  sensation  occurred.  We  say  the  impression  or  sensation,  for 
it  is  by  no  means  essential  that  the  soul  should  feel  pleasure  or  pain,  or  in 
any  way  be  aware  of  the  occurrence.  Whatever  the  excitement  may  be, 
the  companion  nerve  responds  to  the  call  of  its  associate,  and  contracts, 
convulses,  or  moves  appropriately  the  muscle  or  the  organ  which  is 
aroused.  A  message  of  invitation  or  warning  flashes  inward  along  one 
of  these  mysterious  filaments,  the  afferent.  An  answer  is  sent  at  once 
outward  by  the  efferent  to  the  place  from  which  it  came,  and  the  answer 
is  obeye-1.  This  may  be  done  without  the  intervention  or  the  knowledge 
of  the  scul.  The  nerves  arranged  for  this  special  service  of  the  senses  and 
of  motion  are  called  the  senso-motor,  and  the  general  action  which  we  hava 
described  is  called  their  reflex  action. 

The  nerves,  it  will  be  observed,  are  the  subjects  of  diverse  affection* 
or  phenomena.  First,  they  are  subject  to  mechanical  action  and  change. 
Like  other  filaments,  they  can  be  bruised,  rent,  or  cut.  Second,  their  con- 
stituent elements  suffer  chemical  changes.  Third,  they  minister  to  th« 
healthy  or  unhealthy  action  of  all  the  vital  and  sense-organs.  Fourth, 
they  are  capable  of  various  reflex  actions,  both  occasional  in  response  to 
casual  excitements,  and  regular,  as  in  sustaining  the  involuntary  action  of 
the  heart,  lungs,  and  other  organs.  Fifth,  last  of  all,  when  a  sentient  soul 
makes  this  organism  living,  they  are  capable  of  a  special  affection  or  ex- 
citement, which  is  the  condition  of  sensation  and  sense-perception.  The 
first  and  essential  requisite  to  sense-perception  is  the  existence  of  the  sen- 
sorium  as  thus  defined. 

8  100.    The  second  requisite  to  sense-perception  is  the  exist- 

The  second  con-      ' 


is  an  ob-    ence  and  the  presence  ot  appropriate  obiects.      We  say  in 

ject  or  excitant.  r  .   .    ,         ,  .  ,  .   . 

general,  there  must  be  visible  objects  in  order  to  vision  : 
audible  objects  in  order  to  hearing  :  tangible  objects  in  order  to  touch.  Lt 
other  language  we  say,  objects,  to  be  perceived,  must  be  luminous,  sonorous, 
resisting  ;  or,  more  abstractly,  there  must  be  light,  sound,  and  hardness,  o* 
there  cannot  be  vision,  hearing,  or  touch. 

One  apparent  exception  to  this  principle  occurs  in  the  case  of  the  so-walled  subjectiv 
eensations  which  are  excited  by  stimulating  the  nerves  by  peculiar  agents.  Thus  the  optli 
nerve,  under  electrical  applications,  may  be  so  excited  as  to  occasion  flashes  of  light.  Spark* 
are  perceived,  from  a  blow  or  contusion.  Slight  sensations  of  smell  and  of  taste,  also  a  ring. 
ing  or  whizzing  in  the  ears,  are  occasioned  by  electrical  action.  Experiments  of  this  kind 
prove  that  the  sensation  depends  entirely  on  the  excitement  of  a  part  of  the  sensory  to  a  giveii 
species  of  activity,  and  that  this  excitement  is  idiopathic,  or  limited  to  the  nerve  or  nerves 
2oncerned  ;  e.  ^.,  the  optic  nerve  alone  emits  light;  the  acoustic  nerve,  sound,  etc.,  etc 
Physical  researches  into  the  nature  of  the  objects  of  sense-perception  have  convinced  man, 
philosophers  that  their  action  upon,  or  their  power  to  affect  the  sensorium  depends  on  the 
motion  of  the  particles  of  matter.  In  the  view  of  such,  all  objects  which  are  perceived  are 
capable  of  a  more  or  less  frequent  motion  ;  an^  according  to  its  greater  or  less  rapidity, 


126  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §111 

it  properly  affects  the  nervous  organism,  is  the  sense-perception  in  its  quality  and  intensity 
Thus  light,  as  perceived,  is  resolved  into  undulating  ether,  and  according  as  its  undulations  ar« 
more  or  less  rapid,  so  the  object  seen  is  scarlet,  violet,  red,  or  yellow.  Sound  is  also  depend- 
ent on  similar  vibrations.  So,  as  is  presumed  by  analogy,  is  it  with  smell,  taste,  and  touch. 
Similar  conclusions  are  accepted  with  respect  to  heat,  and  the  various  forms  of  pleasurable  of 
painful  muscular  and  subjective  experiences,  as  of  bruising,  tearing,  etc.,  etc.  This  analysis, 
with  its  results,  is  simply  physical.  It  proves  only  in  what  condition  matter  ig  or  must  be,  in 
order  to  be  perceived.  Its  inquiries  respect  only  the  physical  conditions  of  the  sense-percep 
tions.  They  shed  no  light  at  all  upon  the  experiences  of  the  soul.  What  the  soul  experience* 
and  apprehends  are  not  motions  of  any  kind,  but  different  sounds,  tastes,  smells,  colors.  As 
physical  researches,  these  inquiries  are  legitimate  and  attractive.  But  to  psychology  they  have 
no  application,  because  they  stand  in  no  rational  connection  with  the  phenomena  to  be 
explained.  Cf.  H.  Lotze,  Mikrokosmus,  vol.  ii.  B.  V.  c.  2. 

8  110.   The  third  condition  of  sense-perception  is  the  action 

The  third  condi-      "  ... 

tion.  its  action    of  ^he  obi'ect  upon  the  sensormra.     In  order  to  receive  this 

on    trie    sen  so-  A 

num.  action,  the  external  organs  must  be  in  a  normal  condition — viz. 

the  eye,  the  ear,  the  palate,  and  the  skin.  If  any  lesion  or  disease  occurs, 
the  perception  is  irregular  or  impossible.  In  like  manner,  if  the  nerves 
are  diseased  or  destroyed,  the  perceptions  are  disturbed  or  prevented. 
Let  the  optic  nerve  be  injured,  and  the  vision  is  doubled,  clouded,  or  ex- 
tinguished. So  is  it  with  hearing,  with  touch,  with  smell,  and  with  taste. 

It  is  contended  by  many  (L.  George,  Die  flinf  Sinne,  Berlin,  1846  ;  J.  D.  Morell,  Outlines, 
etc.,  Lond.,  1862),  that  the  excitement  of  the  sensorium  to  the  condition  favorable  to  sense- 
perception  is  simply  the  arousing  of  its  nerve  substance  to  vibratory  action  or  motion.  Strong 
confirmation  of  this  view  is  derived  from  the  kindred  doctrine  that  the  objects  of  perceptic'ii 
are  matter  in  different  modes  and  rates  of  motion.  As  the  researches  and  speculations  in 
respect  to  matter  are  purely  physical,  so  this  inquiry  and  its  results  are  exclusively  physio- 
logical. They  relate  only  to  the  conditions,  but  furnish  no  explanation  of  the  psychical  phe- 
nomena as  experiences  or  acts  of  the  soul.  As  the  soul  does  not  perceive  undulating  matter 
in  light  and  sound,  no  more  does  it  perceive  the  vibrating  nerves  which  proceed  from  the  eye 
and  the  ear.  Psychologically — i.  e.,  in  its  conscious  experience — it  knows  nothing  of  these 
objective  or  subjective  conditions,  either  as  physical  or  nervous  requisites  to  its  own  states. 
In  its  conscious  states  it  feels  and  perceives,  and  it  is  conscious  that  it  feels  and  perceives. 
What  takes  place  in  the  matter  without,  or  in  the  organ  with  which  the  matter  comes  in  con 
tact,  or  in  the  nerve  itself  which  proceeds  from  the  organ,  it  can  only  view  as  a  physical  or 
physiological  condition  to  a  psychical  fact. 

How,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  do  we  know  that  these  three  requisites  must  be  present? 
We  reply,  Only  indirectly.  We  learn  it  by  inference.  If  the  sensorium  no  longer  exists, 
there  is  no  perception.  If  the  object  is  withdrawn,  as  the  luminous  or  sonorous  matter,  there 
can  be  no  perception.  Perhaps  it  may  be  proved  that,  if  the  matter  does  not  vibrate,  the 
result  is  similar.  If  the  organ  or  the  nerve  is  destroyed,  the  soul  does  not  perceive.  We 
conclude  that  all  these  are  its  essential  conditions.  But  that  they  are  not  the  acts  or  statea 
ihemselves,  will  be  still  more  manifest  from  the  consideration  of  the  act  of  sense-perception 
itself.  We  proceed  next  to  : 

II.    The  process  of  sense-perception. 

rhe  rocess  of  §  HI-  r^ne  simplest  form  in  which  sense-perception  is  expe- 
innthepeeimpties"  r^ence(^  ^s  'm  connection  with  a  single  organ  of  sense.  The 
form;  what!  states  or  acts  which  we  ordinarily  cal  eense-perceptions,  by 


Ill  THE  PROCESS    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTION".  127 


which  we  apprehend  the  most  familiar  objects,  as  a  table,  a  chair,  a  horse, 
or  a  dog,  are  made  up  of  too  many  elements  to  allow  us  to  discern  the 
precise  character  of  the  elements  or  the  steps  of  the  process  itself.  It  is 
only  when  we  consider  a  single  act,  as  of  seeing  and  hearing,  and  of  the 
simplest  object,  as  a  single  color  or  sound,  that  we  are  in  a  condition  tc 
determine  what  are  the  essential  nature  and  elements  of  the  act  itself. 

The  most  general  answer  which  we  make  to  our  inquiry  is, 

It  is   psychical,       ,         .     .       ,  .  . 

not  physioiogi-  that  it  is  clearly  and  distinctively  a  psychical  and  not  a  phys- 
iological phenomenon.  We  are  prepared,  by  our  previous 
analysis,  to  distinguish  perception  from  the  organic  instruments  and  con- 
ditions that  are  essential  to  it.  Neither  the  eye  nor  the  optic  nerve,  nor 
the  image  formed  on  the  retina,  nor  the  nervous  response  to  the  image — 
none  of  these,  nor  all  of  them  together,  constitute  vision.  The  picture  may 
foe  formed,  the  nerve  may  be  stimulated  to  reflex  activity,  so  as  to  contract 
ihe  iris  or  let  fall  the  eyelid,  and  yet  there  may  be  no  sight.  If  a  hot  iron 
is  applied  to  the  flesh,  and  the  soul  does  not  feel  and  apprehend,  there  is 
no  sense-perception.  It  may  disorganize  and  destroy  the  flesh,  consum- 
ing it  to  the  bone,  and  yet,  if  the  soul  does  not  respond,  the  phenomenon 
which  we  seek  for  does  not  occur.  In  order  to  this,  another  element  must 
be  furnished,  and  a  new  energy  must  be  aroused  from  the  soul  itself.  Its 
presence  and  its  nature  are  known  by  consciousness.  Its  physical  con- 
ditions are  observed  by  the  senses  and  traced  out  by  physiological  analysis. 
The  anatomist  separates  and  follows  the  one  class  of  phenomena  by  his 
dissecting  knife,  interpreting  the  functions  which  he  does  not  observe. 
Consciousness  watches  the  other,  notes  their  similarities  and  differences, 
refers  them  to  their  agent  and  records  their  products. 

Let  us,  then,  leave  these  physical  or  physiological  con- 
"  two  dements*  ditions,  an(l  consult  consciousness  alone.  We  inquire  of 
consciousness,  What  is  the  psychical  act  or  state  ?  She 
replies,  It  is  a  process  complex  in  its  nature,  but  instantaneous  in  time.  It 
is  complex,  because  the  soul,  in  its  single  act,  discerns  two  objects — its 
own  condition  and  some  material  .reality.  One  of  these  is  subjective,  and 
hence  is  called  a  subject-object  /  the  other  is  objective,  and  is  denominated 
an  object-object.  One  element  is  called  sensation,  or  sensation  proper ; 
the  other  is  called  perception,  or  perception  proper.  The  one  of  these  ia 
an  element  involving  feeling ;  the  other  is  intellectual,  being  an  act  of 
knowledge.  Each  requires  the  other.  Each  is  the  attendant  of  the  other. 
There  can  be  no  perception  without  sensation,  nor  can  sensation  occur 
without  perception. 
The  dements un-  But  though  these  two  elements  coexist,  it  is  with  unequal 

equal  in  energy ;  .    .         .         ,  ,  />     -, 

in  the  same,  and    energy.     Ihe  one  activity  is  always  at  the  expense  01  the 

the  different  sen-  .     •  -_  .  „     ,,          T/» 

see.  other.     If  sensation  is  intense,  perception  is  feeble.     If  per« 

ception  is  energetic  and  absorbing,  sensation  is  weak  and  scarcely  ob- 
served. The  operation  of  this  law  is  seen  in  the  several  senses,  and  in  the 


128  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  US. 

differing  states  or  energies  of  single  and  separate  senses.  In  vision,  as 
compared  with  smell  and  hearing,  perception  prevails ;  while  in  the  latter 
sensation  is  in  excess.  In  the  perception  of  bright  and  stimulating  color, 
as  contrasted  with  the  discernment  of  form  and  outlines,  sensation  is  con 
spicuous  in  the  one,  and  perception  in  the  other.  If  we  look  at  the  un- 
clouded sun  at  midday,  we  cannot  perceive  distinctly,  by  reason  of  the 
blinding  and  painful  sensations  ;  if  its  disc  is  overcast,  or  a  darkened  glass 
is  interposed,  the  perception  is  more  distinct  and  easy,  by  the  repression 
of  the  sensations. 

This  brief  statement  involves  the  doctrine  that  the  soul  in  the  same  instantaneous  and 
single  act  exists  in  a  twofold  activity.  Stated  in  other  language,  it  is,  that  every  act  of  sense- 
perception  involves  the  element  of  sensation  and  the  element  of  perception.  These  elements 
need  to  be  separately  considered  in  order  that  we  may  understand  their  real  character  and 
their  mutual  relations. 

8  112.    Sensation  proper,  or  the  sensational  element,  cornea 

Sensation  proper     °  . 

pertains  to  the    m-st  in  order.     This  does  not  occur  alone  or  apart.     Pure 

soul.  .  .     r 

sensation  is  simply  an  ideal  or  imaginary  experience.  Its  na- 
ture can  be  determined  only  by  laying  out  of  view  certain  characteristics 
which  always  attend  it.  Though  sensation  always  occurs  with  perception, 
it  may  be  clearly  distinguished  from  it.  Sensation,  thus  considered,  is 

A  subjective  experience  of  the  soul,  as  animating  an  extended  sen* 
sorium,  usually  more  or  less  pleasurable  or  painful,  and  always  occa- 
sioned by  some  excitement  of  the  organism.  This  definition  implies, 

First  of  all,  that  sensation  pertains  properly  to  the  soul,  as  contra- 
distinguished from  material  things  or  corporeal  agents.  The  sensation 
of  touch  is  not  in  the  orange,  the  sensation  of  heat  is  not  in  the  burn- 
ing flame,  but  both  are  experienced  by  the  sentient  soul.  The  sensation 
of  sweetness  is  not  in  the  sugar,  that  of  sourness  is  not  in  the  vinegar. 
There  can  be  no  music  when  orchestra  and  audience  are  both  stone-deaf. 
As  all  sensations  pertain  to  the  soul  which  experiences  them,  they  can 
properly  be  said  to  be  subjective.  As  the  most  of  them  are  positively 
agreeable  or  the  opposite,  they  are  nearly  akin  to  those  emotions,  as  hope 
or  terror,  or  those  passions,  as  anger  and  envy,  which  are  acknowledged  by 
all  to  belong  exclusively  to  the  spirit,  and  to  involve  no  relation  whatever 
to  matter  or  the  bodily  organism.  Such  feelings  are  not  infrequently 
styled  sensations,  though  improperly. 
Yet  ex  erienced  §  113'  Second,  the  sensations,  though  subjective  in  the 

by  the  soul  con-  sense  alreadv  denned,  are  vet  experienced  by  the  soul  as  con- 
nected with  an  9  •>  .  ,  ,.,,.. 

organism.  nected  with  a  corporeal  organism,  and  are  directly  distin- 

guished in  this  from  emotions  proper,  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  percep- 
tions proper,  on  the  other.  The  soul  has  a  subjective  experiencf  of  heat, 
hardness,  sweetness,  sourness,  etc.,  but  it  has  this  experience  as  an  agent 
which  is  connected  with  and  animates  an  extended  sensorium.  The  sev- 
eral sensations,  though  like  the  purely  spiritual  emotions  in  being  agree- 


§113.  THE   PROCESS    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  123 

able,  or  the  opposite,  are  unlike  them  in  being  felt  by  the  soul  as  existing 
in  a  peculiar  form  of  being  and  activity,  viz.,  that  of  corporeal  sensibility. 
That  which  feels  is  not  the  soul  as  pure  spirit,  but  spirit  as  animating  an 


It  is  but  a  part  of  the  truth  which  Reid  utters,  when  he  says :  "  This  sensation  [of  smell] 
can  be  nothing  else  than  it  is  felt  to  be.  Its  very  essence  consists  in  being  felt ;  and  when  it  ia 
not  felt,  it  is  not.  There  is  no  difference  between  the  sensation,  and  the  feeling  of  it ;  they  are 
one  and  the  same  thing."  "As  to  the  sensations  and  feelings  that  are  agreeable  or  disagree- 
able, they  differ  much,  not  only  in  degree,  but  in  kind  and  dignity.  Some  belong  to  the  ani- 
mal part  of  our  nature,  and  are  common  to  us  with  the  brutes  ;  others  belong  to  the  rational 
and  moral  part.  The  first  are  more  properly  called  sensations,  the  last,  feelings."  Essays, 
Intell.  Powers,  ii.  c.  16. 

Berkeley,  Theory  of  Vision,  says  to  the  same  effect :  "  The  objects  intromitted  by  signt 
would  seem  to  him  [a  man  born  blind],  as  indeed  they  are,  no  other  than  a  new  set  of 
thoughts  or  sensations,  each  whereof  is  as  near  to  him  as  the  perceptions  of  pain  and  pleasure, 
or  the  most  inward  passions  of  the  soul."  Cf.  Dugald  Stewart,  Elements,  etc.,  chaps,  i.  ^<1 
v.  p.  ii.  §  1  ;  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  Lectures,  etc.,  19-25  ;  Prof.  Thomas  C.  Upham,  Elemt 
etc.,  Intellect.,  §  49. 

Reid  certainly  would  not  say  that  the  pain,  or  the  painful  sensation,  which  is  occasioned 
by  a  burn,  a  cut,  or  a  blow,  is  precisely  like  the  pain  which  is  occasioned  by  the  death  of  ;* 
friend,  the  loss  of  fortune,  or  the  failure  of  a  darling  project.  Both  these  classes  of  states, 
when  not  felt,  have  no  existence ;  they  both  pertain  to  the  soul,  and  to  the  soul  only,  as  distin- 
guished from  the  objects  which  occasion  them.  Both  are  alike  subjective.  Both  are  alike  in 
being  disagreeable,  hence  both  are  called  painful.  But  one  is  experienced  by  the  soul  as  con- 
nected with  an  organism,  while  the  other  is  felt  in  the  soul  without  reference  to  the  sensoriunv 
nt  all.  They  are  not  merely  unlike,  as  one  painful  sensation  or  one  painful  emotion  is  unliks, 
another  in  subjective  quality  or  intensity,  but  as  a  sensation  is  unlike  an  emotion,  in  that  the 
one  is  felt  by  the  soul  as  known  by  itself  to  act  and  suffer  as  animating  an  extended  portion 
of  living  matter,  and  the  other  is  experienced  by  the  soul  in  its  capacity  to  act  and  suffer 
without  conscious  relation  to  matter  at  all. 

This  peculiar  feature  of  sensation  is  made  still  more  obvious  by  the  difference  discerned  by 
the  soul  between  the  sensation  itself  as  a  pleasant  or  painful  experience,  and  the  effort  of  the 
soul  to  retain  or  reject  it ;  in  other  words,  by  the  manifest  difference  between  the  sensation 
proper  and  the  consequent  desire  or  aversion.  The  one  is  an  experience  of  the  soul  as  suffer- 
ing while  consciously  connected  with  the  organism ;  the  other  is  purely  spiritual,  the  sponta- 
neous acting  of  the  soul's  independent  energy.  In  the  sensation  enjoyed  or  suffered,  the  soul 
is  blended  inseparably  with  the  sensorial  organism  ;  in  the  reacting  or  resilient  desire  k  is 
sharply  contrasted  with  it.  In  the  one  it  knows  itself  connected  with  that  from  whwi  it 
imagines  it  might  be  detached  ;  in  the  other,  it  knows  itself  to  act  as  a  purely  psychical  a/»  ent 

"  The  organism  is  the  field  of  apprehension,  both  to  sensation  proper  and  perception  proper ;  but  wito  thlfi 
difference :  that  the  former  views  it  as  of  the  ego,  the  latter  as  of  the  non-ego ;  that  the  one  draws  it  wiihia, 
the  other  shuts  it  out  from  the  sphere  of  self.  As  animated,  as  the  subject  of  affections  of  which  I  am  con- 
scious, the  organism  belongs  to  me ;  and  of  these  affections  which  I  recognize  as  mine,  sensation  proper  is 
the  apprehension,  As  material,  as  the  subject  of  extension,  figure,  divisibility,  and  BO  forth,  the  organism 
does  not  belong  to  me,  the  conscious  unit ;  and  of  those  properties,  which  I  do  not  recognize  as  mine,  per- 
ception  proper  is  the  apprehension." 

"It  may  appear,  not  a  paradox  merely,  but  a  contradiction,  to  say,  that  the  organism  is  at  once 
within  and  without  the  mind ;  is  at  once  subjective  and  objective ;  is  at  once  ego  and  non-ego.  But  so  it 
is,  and  so  we  must  admit  it  to  be,  unless,  on  the  one  hand,  as  materialists,  we  identify  mind  with  matter, 
or,  on  the  other,  as  idealists,  we  identify  matter  with  mind.  The  organism,  as  animated,  as  sentient,  i* 
necessarily  ours ;  and  its  affections  are  only  felt  as  affections  of  the  indivisible  ego.  In  this  respect,  and  to 
this  extent,  our  organs  are  not  external  to  ourselves.  But  our  organism  is  7iot  merely  a  sentient  subiect.  ii 

9 


130  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §114 

is  &t  the  same  time  an  extended,  figured,  divisible,  in  a  word,  a  material,  subject ;  and  the  same  sensationt 
which  are  reduced  to  unity  in  the  indivisibility  of  consciousness  are  in  the  divisible  organism  recognized  a* 
plural  and  reciprocally  external,  and,  therefore,  as  extended,  figured,  and  divided.  Such  is  the  fact  :  bet 
how  the  immaterial  can  be  united  with  matter,  how  the  unextended  can  apprehend  extension,  how  the 
indivisible  can  measure  the  divided, — this  is  the  mystery  of  mysteries  to  man." — Sir  William  Hamilton, 
Works  of  JReid,  Note  D*  18  and  foot-note,  p.  880  (Cf.  35,  38,  39).  Cf.  J.  Muller,  H-B.  d.  Phy&iol.  d  Menschen, 

B.  r. 

The  philosophers  of  the  English  and  French  schools  have  almost  universally  considered  sensation  as  • 
phenomenon  exclusively  spiritual  and  subjective.  Even  Hamilton  lays  down  the  unqualified  position,  that 
sensation  and  perception  are  distinguished  as  feeling  and  knowledge.  Most  of  them  are  by  a  logical  neces- 
sity forced  to  distinguish  perception  from  sensation,  as  being  the  apprehension  of  the  objective  cause  or  occa- 
sion of  this  subjective  experience.  They  reason  thus  in  the  disjunctive  method.  Sensation  must  either  be 
a  phenomenon  purely  spiritual  and  subjective,  or  purely  material  and  objective.  It  cannot  be  the  last, 
because  that  would  make  it  one  with  perception.  It  must  therefore  be  the  former.  This  conclusion  was 
accepted  with  all  the  inconveniences  and  embarrassments  which  are  familiar  to  the  student  who  is  versod 
in  the  history  of  the  various  theories  of  perception. 

Those  who  reasoned  in  this  way  did  not  notice,  that  from  their  assumed  premise  another  conclusion 
equally  embarrassing  might  be  derived,  e.  g.,  There  can  be  but  two  classes  of  mental  states — the  simply 
and  purely  subjective  and  the  simply  objective.  Sensations  and  emotions  can  neither  belong  to  the  last. 
Therefore  both  must  belong  to  the  first,  or  emotions  and  sensations  are  in  their  essential-  features  properly 
Classed  together.  This  conclusion  is  contradicted  by  the  conscious  experience  of  every  one.  The  only  way 
to  escape  it,  is  to  deny  the  original  premise,  and  instead  of  the  dichotomy  or  twofold  division,  to  substitute 
another  in  its  place  which  shall  include  a  threefold  possibility,  via.,  there  are  three  classes  of  psychical 
phenomena  possible — the  purely  subjective  or  incorporeal,  the  purely  objective  and  corporeal,  and  a  third, 
midway  between  the  two,  partaking  of  attributes  common  to  both.  These  three  are  the  emotions,  the  per- 
ceptions, and  the  sensations. 

§  114.  Third  :  It  is  implied,  in  what  has  been  said,  that  all 
The  sensations  sensations  are  attended  with  a  more  or  less  distinct  and 

localized. 

definite  relation  of  place  in  the  sensorium.  This  relation  of 
place  is  at  first  very  indefinitely  apprehended ;  indeed,  it  may  not  IDC 
attended  to  at  all ;  but  there  must  be  furnished,  in  the  original  experiences 
of  the  soul,  the  means  of  discerning  such  a  relation  provided  the  attention 
is  directed  to  the  sensation.  It  is  impossible  to  believe  that  a  pain  in 
the  teeth  or  a  pain  in  the  head  should  not  be  known  apart  in  place  from 
a  pain  in  the  foot ;  that  a  burn  iu  the  foot  and  a  wound  in  the  arm  should 
not  give  directly  to  the  mind  the  apprehension  of  a  different  place  for 
each.  If  the  soul,  in  the  experience  of  all  its  sensations,  knows  itself  as 
animating  an  extended  sensorium,  then  in  each  sensation  it  knows  itself  to 
be  affected  in  some  separate  part  or  portion  of  this  extended  organism 
•which  it  pervades. 

Those  who  regard  sensation  as  a  purely  subjective  experience  or  phenomenon,  exclude 
from  it  all  the  relations  of  place  or  locality.  These  relations  they  appropriate  to  the  causes  of 
the  sensations.  If  an  infant  has  a  pain  in  the  foot  and  a  pain  in  the  head,  as  sensations  or 
pains  thesa  are  simply  spiritual  or  psychical  experiences.  It  is  only  when  the  causes  of  these 
phenomena  are  discovered  that  the  relations  of  place  can  be  discerned.  A  different  view  of 
the  nature  of  pure  sensation  involves  different  consequents  in  respect  to  all  the  relations  of 
\jlace. 

When  it  is  asserted  that  every  sensation  gives  or  might  give  a  relation  of  place,  it  is  not 
intended  that  the  relations  of  place  involved  in  and  given  by  the  direct  experience  of  an 
original  sensation  are  or  could  be  apprehended  so  completely  and  so  definitely  as  they  are  l:y 
the  aid  of  experience  and  the  acquired  perceptions ;  but  only  that  some  knowledge,  or  th<! 
materials  for  such  knowledge,  must  be  furnished  in  the  original  sensations. 


5$  117.  THE  PROCESS    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  131 

from  one  §  ^^*  Fourth  :  The  different  sensations,  as  subjective  expe- 
te~  riences  °^  the  soul,  differ  greatly  from  one  another  in  respect 
to  quality  and  intensity ;  in  other  words,  they  differ  in  kind 
and  degree.  Each  of  the  leading  classes  of  sensations  differs  from  each 
of  the  other  classes,  as  the  sensations  of  sight  from  the  sensations  of  touch, 
Under  each  of  these  broadly  distinguished  classes  or  kinds,  special  sensa- 
tions differ  from  one  another;  as  the  different  tastes,  feelings,  smells, 
colors,  etc.,  etc.  What  are  called  the  same  sensations,  differ  also  in  energy, 
strength,  or  intensity  ;  as  one  shade  of  the  same  color,  as  red,  is  deeper 
or  more  intense  than  another  shade ;  one  odor  is  more  pungent  than  an- 
other. These  several  sensations  are  the  subject-matter  of  direct  or  intui- 
tive apprehension.  We  know  that  they  are,  and  we  know  what  they  are 
by  direct  experience.  We  know  them  in  their  relations  also — i.  e.,  in 
their  likenesses  and  differences,  positions,  etc. — by  direct  discernment. 
JSTo  other  explanation  can  be  given  of  these  facts  than  that  we  know  them 
to  be,  and  know  what  they  are,  by  direct  intuition. 

Fifth :  The  different  .sensations  differ  in  respect  to  the  greater  or  less 
definiteness  of  the  part  or  place  of  the  sensorium  which  is  affected.  Thus, 
a  sound  or  a  smell  is  far  less  distinctly  defined  in  any  relations  of  place 
than  a  sight  or  a  touch.  But  more  of  this  in  another  place. 

We  come  next  to  perception  or  perception  proper. 

Perc"  tion  ro      §  H6«    This,  as  has  already  been  explained,  is  no  separate 
er,   an    act   of    act  or  state  of  the  soul  i   it  is  only  a  separable  or  distin- 

pure  knowledge.  m  . 

guishable  element  of  a  single  complex  act.     Perception,  as 
such,  is, 

First :  Clearly  and  distinctly  an  act  of  objective  knowledge,  and  of 
knowledge  only.  The  sensational  element  is  an  element  of  feeling,  attend- 
ed, indeed,  with  the  knowledge  that  the  soul  which  feels  animates  an 
extended  organism ;  but  in  the  perceptional  act  the  soul  knows,  and  only 
knows. 

But  if  it  knows,  it  knows  some  being  as  its  object  (§  48).  But  what  being  does  it 
affirm  ?  We  answer,  The  being  which  is  the  joint  product  of  the  material  agent  or  substance 
and  the  sentient  organism.  What  we  perceive  when  we  touch  and  see,  much  more  when  we 
smell,  hear,  and  taste,  is  that  which  is  prepared  for  our  knowledge  by  the  action  of  the  ex- 
citant, whatever  it  may  be,  whether  objective  or  subjective,  and  the  organism  animated  by  a 
sentient  soul.  In  perception  proper  we  do  not  know  the  excitant  apart,  nor  do  we  know  the 
organism  apart,  only  the  result  of  their  joint  actior...  This  we  know  as  an  object,  with  which 
the  mind  is  confronted,  both  as  a  sentient  and  as  a  percipient.  As  a  sentient  it  responds  to  its 
presence  by  that  subjective  condition  called  sensation ;  as  a  percipient,  it  knows  the  object  to  be. 

The  agency  of  the  soul  in  its  acts  of  knowing,  as  has  already  been  explained,  should  be 
care!  till  y  distinguished  from  its  agency  in  preparing  and  even  in  presenting  objects  for  it  to 
know  (§47). 

8  117.    Second:  This  knowledge  is  objective — i.  e..  the  soul 

Its  object  a  non-      '  J  ,     . 

tffo.  what  kind    not  only  knows  the  object  to  be,  but  it  knows  it  is  not  itself, 

»f  a  non-e^o.  ...  i/»       T>        i» 

What  it  knows  is  a  non-e^o,  a  not-me,  a  not-self.     But  iron1 


132  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  11% 

what  self,  or  ego,  does  it  distinguish  the  object?  or  what  kind  of  non  ego 
does  the  perceiving  soul  distinguish  ?  Is  it  what  is  usually  called  a  mate- 
rial object,  distinguished  from  the  organism  or  the  body  which  the  soul 
animates  and  moves  ?  or  is  it  the  organism  itself  which  the  soul  distin 
guishes  from  itself,  though  it  animates  and  moves  it  ?  We  answer,  ID 
perception,  comprehensively  viewed,  both  of  these  objects  are  distin- 
guished by  the  soul  from  itself,  viz.,  the  material  object,  which  is  not  the 
body,  and  the  body  itself,  which  is  not  the  soul.  The  process  is  not  com- 
plete till  both  these  objects  are  distinguished  from  one  another,  and  from 
the  soul  itself.  But  our  present  inquiry  is,  Which  of  these  objects  i« 
apprehended  in  perception  proper  ?  which  is  known,  or  might  be  known, 
in  connection  with  every  sensation,  or  in  every  act  of  sense-perception  f: 
We  answer,  The  bodily  organism  itself,  or  rather  that  part  of  the  senso- 
riuin  which  is  excited  to  action.  What  the  soul  directly  perceives — i.  e., 
distinguishes  from  itself— is  its  own  sensitive  organism,  so  far  as  it  is 
excited  to  sensation.  This  is  that  which  it  knows  to  be  not  itself,  even 
though  it  knows  that  in  sensation  it  is  intimately  connected  with  it. 
The  immediate  object  of  perception  proper  is  the  sensorium  in  some  forre 
of  action. 

It  deserves  to  be  carefully  kept  in  mind,  that,  as  there  are  three  non-egos — viz.,  the  not 
body  as  distinguished  from  the  body  and  soul  united,  the  body  as  distinguished  from  the  soul, 
and  the  sensorium  as  distinguished  from  the  soul  as  pure  spirit — so  there  are  three  ego* 
brought  into  consideration — the  soul  as  animating  or  connected  with  the  sensorium,  the  soul  as 
connected  with  the  body  sensed  and  perceived,  the  living  body  as  a  whole ;  and  the  soul  as 
distinguishable  from  both  sensorium  and  body.  In  analyzing  and  defining  sense-perception, 
the  attention  should  be  carefully  directed  to  the  inquiry,  Which  of  these  egos  or  non^gos  is 
intended  ? 

It  is  not  intended  that,  in  the  order  of  time,  the  infant  does,  in  the  earliest  development 
of  the  reflective  consciousness,  apply  the  pronoun  I  to  the  soul  as  distinguished  from  the  body. 
It  is  most  evident  that  at  first,  and  for  a  very  long  period  often,  this  appellation  is  applied  to 
the  soul  and  the  body  as  a  complex  whole.  We  need  not  even  inquire  what  distinctions  are 
made  earliest  in  the  order  of  time  or  of  actual  experience,  but  rather,  what  are  necessary  in 
the  simplest  acts  of  the  soul — in  those  states  which  our  subtlest  and  ultimate  analysis  can  di^ 
tinguish,  but  cannot  divide.  What  are  those  distinctions,  the  discernment  of  which  no  process 
can  explain  or  account  for,  but  which  must  be  ascribed  to  an  original  endowment  of  the  so>oj 
manifesting  itself  in  a  necessary  and  sovereign  act  ? 

§  118.  Third:  The  object  in  perception  proper  is  not  onlj 
known  as  the  non-ego,  but  it  is  known  as  extended.  Even 
in  sensation  proper  the  soul  knows  itself  as  united  with  the 
9xtended  sensorium  ;  much  more  when  the  soul,  by  an  act  of  intelligence, 
distinguishes  this  sensorium  from  itself  as  a  purely  psychical  agent,  must 
it  know  the  object  to  be  extended  which  it  as  it  were  sets  over  against 
itaelf.  We  do  not  here  ask  what  extension  is,  or  how  it  is  possible  that 
ths  unextended  spirit  can  know  extended  matter;  nor  do  we  ask  what  are 
t\n  relations  of  extension  to  space,  either  in  the  order  of  knowledge  or 


§119.  THE    PROCESS    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  133 

of  being.  These  questions  are  reserved  for  future  discussion.  We  record 
only  what  the  mind  actually  perceives,  as  attested  by  our  experience  of  the 
act  or  process. 

This  doctrine,  stated  in  the  terms  of  a  more  exact  analysis,  is  this :  The  soul,  in  sense 
perception,  knowing  the  sensorium  in  action,  may  know  it  in  the  two  relations  which  it  holds 
to  itself,  as  at  once  a  sentient  and  percipient.  In  the  one  relation  it  knows  the  sensorium  as 
united  with  or  pervaded  by  itself  as  a  sentient :  it  knows  it  sensationally — i.  e.,  so  far  as  it 
experiences  sensations.  In  the  other  relation  it  distinguishes  it — the  sensorium  as  being  an 
extended  object — from  itself  as  a  percipient — i.  e.,  it  perceives  a  non-ego  contrasted  with  a 
percipient  ego. 

No  one  can  deny,  thai  conceding  that  the  soul  in  sensation  is  consciously  united  to  an  extended  sea- 
Boriura,  it  must  immediately  perceive  this  sensorium  when  aroused  to  action.  But  one  may  doubt  whethui 
this  is  all  which  the  mind  perceives.  It  may  he  asked,  whether  the  extra-organic  cannot  be  perceived 
immediately  as  truly  as  the  intra-organic.  Upon  the  theory  here  proposed,  the  not-body,  or  extra-organic 
matter  is  the  object  of  an  acquired,  but  not  of  a  direct,  perception,  by  a  process  which  will  be  explained  here- 
tifter. 

The  alternative  theories  of  direct  perception  are  two.  One  makes  sensation  a  purely  spiritual  experi- 
ence, and  gives  to  the  mind  a  power  of  directly  perceiving  its  attendant  object  or  its  cause — known  directly 
or  inferred  somehow  to  be  extended. 

The  other  makes  sensation  to  be  organic,  and  of  course  to  involve  place  and  extension,  and  perception 
to  be  the  direct  knowledge  of  an  extra-organic  object  or  agent,  which  is  also  extended  and  causal  of  the 
intra-organic  sensation. 

It  may  be  admitted,  that  the  last  theory  is  possibly  true,  but  it  must  be  shown  to  be  necessary  in  order 
to  account  for  the  facts,  and  also  to  be  most  accordant  with  processes  known  to  be  performed  in  the  early 
growth  of  perception.  It  is  also  inconsistent  with  the  occurrence  of  subjective  sensations.  The  question 
is  of  no  special  importance,  except  as  it  throws  light  upon  the  development  of  the  intellect.  But  see 
§155. 

8  119.    We  ask,   fourth:   In  the  exercise  of  which  of  the 

Perception     at-     '  .»••••          • 

lends  ail  the  senses  does  the  mind  distinguish  the  non-egoistic  and  ex. 
tended  object — in  the  exercise  of  one  or  two,  or  of  each  and 
all  ?  The  views  which  we  have  proposed  concerning  sensation  involve 
the  necessary  consequence  that  perception  proper  occurs  in  connection 
with  each  of  the  senses.  If  every  sensation  involves  the  apprehension  of 
the  extended  sensorium  with  which  the  soul  is  connected,  then  it  follows 
that  it  is  possible  to  perceive  this  sensorium,  to  whatever  sensation  it  is 
excited,  and  that  every  sense  gives  the  knowledge  of  an  extended  non- 
ego.  Some  of  these  senses  do  this  with  greater  indefiniteness  than  others, 
it  is  true — as  the  sense  of  smell  compared  with  the  sense  of  touch,  but  all 
with  equal  reality  ;  if,  indeed,  it  is  true  that  no  sensation  can  in  fact  occur 
without  perception. 

It  needs  here  to  be  observed — as,  indeed,  we  cannot  too  often  repeat  the  remark — that 
the  perception  which  we  are  here  considering  is  the  perception  of  the  not-spirit,  or  the  direct 
apprehension  of  the  extended  non-e^ro,  and  not  at  all  the  perception  of  the  not-body,  or  the 
•eference  of  a  sensation — e.  g.,  of  smell  to  an  object  as  its  cause,  viz.,  a  rose,  or  a  honey- 
suckle. 

Those  psychologists  who  make  sensation  to  be  a  purely  spiritual  or  subjective  experience 
of  merely  intensive  quality,  and  make  perception  to  be  the  apprehension  of  the  cause  of  these 
so-called  feelings,  either  limit  perception  to  the  sensations  of  touch  and  sight,  excluding  it  from 
smell,  taste,  and  hearing — as  does  Reid — or  confine  it  to  touch  only,  as  Tugald  Stewart  and 
Dr.  Thomas  Brown. 


134  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §120 

The  philosophers  of  the  Continent  who  agree  with  them  in  their  views  of  serration — aa 
fur  example,  those  of  the  school  of  Herbart  and  Beneke — agree  wi  <h  them  in  deriving,  th« 
knowledge  of  the  external  world  from  sight  and  touch  only,  either  by  direct  perception,  at 
Kant,  or  by  some  process  of  induction  or  judgment  founded  on  experience.  A  particulai 
account  of  their  views  will  be  given  under  Theories  of  Perception.  At  present  we  need  onlj 
observe  that  all  these  theories  rest  on  the  gratuitous  and  unauthorized  assumption  that  air 
sensation  is  or  can  be  purely  intensive  or  spiritual. 

The  extension  But  while  each  and  all  of  the  senses  do  alike  give  us  an  extended  and  exter 
and  externality.  nai  object,  they  do  not  give  it  with  equal  distinctness  and  clearness.  As  we 
given  with  equal  have  already  observed,  the  senses  of  smell  and  hearing  are  far  inferior  in 
this  respect  to  the  senses  of  sight  and  touch ;  and  so  far  inferior,  that  they 
seem  to  many  not  to  give  it  at  all.  The  muscular  sensations  are  also  more  conspicuously 
present  in  the  movement  and  direction  of  certain  organs  than  in  the  management  and  expe- 
riences of  others.  As  a  consequence,  the  attention  is  almost  entirely  withdrawn  from  the 
apprehension  of  externality  and  extension  which  pertains  to  these  sense-perceptions,  and  henco 
it  has  been  denied  that  through  these  senses  there  is  any  proper  perception. 

8  120.    This  leads  us  to  another  topic — the  varying  relation 

The  varying  re-      «  .         . 

lations  of  sensa-    of  the  sensational  and  perceptional  element  in  different  state* 

tion  and  percep-  A  -1 

tion  proper.  of  sense-perception.  The  general  law  is,  that  in  every  statt » 
these  elements  vary  inversely — i.  e.,  as  the  sensation  is  stronger,  the  per  • 
ception  is  weaker,  and  vice-versa.  The  operation  of  this  law  is  illustrated 
in  the  different  sensations  of  the  same  sense  as  compared  with  one  anothei, 
and  also  in  the  different  senses. 

Of  different  sensations  of  the  same  sense  we  observe,  that  iu 

In  different  sen-  .  .     _.  .  .      ,  .  ,  .. 

of  the    some  the  attention  is  occupied  more  with  the  sensation,  while 


in  others  the  object  which  it  reveals  is  more  thought  of. 
This  is  true  of  tastes,  smells,  sounds,  touches,  and  sights.  If  any  of  these 
are  very  agreeable  or  disagreeable,  the  subjective  pain  or  pleasure  which 
they  give,  solicits  and  absorbs  the  soul's  energy,  almost  or  entirely  to  the 
exclusion  of  all  apprehension  of  the  organism,  or  of  any  thing  external. 
If  they  are  what  we  call  indifferent  or  unexciting,  there  is  opportunity  for 
the  mind  to  attend  to  the  relations  of  diverse  quality,  of  place,  form,  outline, 
which  the  particular  sense  admits  of.  It  has  passed  into  a  proverb,  that 
certain  sensations  are  absorbing,  transporting,  ravishing,  enrapturing,  and 
ecstatic ;  all  of  which  terms  indicate  the  complete  occupation  of  the  soul'd 
energy  in  subjective  enjoyment,  or,  as  the  case  may  be,  in  pain  and  agony. 
We  freely  remark  of  others,  that  in  them  we  are  cool,  unexcited,  not  car- 
ried away,  self-controlled;  which  epithets  imply  the  possibility  of  any 
ntellectua*  activity  which  may  be  required,  the  energy  of  simple  percep- 
tion being,  of  course,  included. 

The  most  obvious  and  striking  illustrations  of  this  difference  may  be 
seen  in  different  experiences  through  the  eye  and  the  hand.  The  appre- 
hensions of  color  are  more  sensuous ;  those  of  form  and  outline  are  more 
perceptional  and  intellectual.  In  gazing  upon  rich  and  gorgeous  coloring, 
whether  it  be  of  a  splendid  sunset,  of  brilliant  autumn  foliage,  or  of  a 
glowing  painting,  the  enjoyment  is  more  intense  and  the  excitement  if 


§  121.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  133 

more  akin  to  pure  emotion.  In  the  apprehension  and  comparison  cf  form> 
outline,  and  grouping,  whether  there  is  more  or  less  of  color,  or  none  at 
all,  the  perceptional  element  predominates,  and  sometimes  rises  into  the 
purely  intellectual.  But  just  in  this  proportion  does  the  sensuous  and  pas 
sionate  sink  and  give  way. 

In  touch,  if  we  take  a  burning  or  frosted  implement,  we  are  so  occu- 
pied with  the  pain,  that  we  do  not  notice  its  form,  surface,  weight,  and 
many  other  peculiarities  which  a  nicer  handling  would  reveal,  which  deli- 
cate handling  is  rendered  impossible  by  the  absorption  of  the  soul  with  its 
sensations.  On  the  other  hand,  the  delicate  intellectual  touch,  which  ap 
prebends  minute  constituents,  slightly  varying  surfaces,  gentle  outlines, 
fine  edges,  etc.,  requires  as  an  essential  condition  that  the  sensations  be 
not  at  all  obtrusive.  He  that  passes  his  finger  over  the  edge  of  a  razor  in 
order  to  judge  of  its  fineness,  must  be  careful  that  no  painful  sensations,  as 
from  a  cut ;  or  pleasant  sensations,  as  of  titillation,  disturb  or  distract  the 
delicacy  of  his  perceptive  touch.  In  all  these  examples  it  is  to  be  noticed, 
that  in  sensation  proper  we  are  occupied  with  our  subjective  condition  as 
pleasant  or  painful ;  while  in  perception  proper  we  apprehend  an  extended 
non-ego. 

The  illustration  of  the  varied  activity  of  the  sensational  and  perceptional  clement  in  the 
different  senses  will  be  given  in  the  following  chapter. 

It  should  be  remembered  that  the  knowledge  of  an  extended  and  external  non-ego,  which 
is  gained  through  any  single  sense,  or  through  each  and  all  of  these  senses  when  considered 
singly,  is  very  different  from  that  complete  apprehension  of  the  extended  and  external  world 
which  is  effected  by  the  combination  of  the  products  of  the  several  senses  into  single  objects — 
which  is  matured  by  the  processes  of  acquired  perception,  coupled  with  the  insight  of  reflective 
thought. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS. 

I^F  have  only  crossed  the  threshold  of  our  inquiries  in  respect  to  perception.  But  our  pre- 
vious analysis  has  established  the  conclusion  that  sense-perception  is  an  act  of  knowledge 
gained  in  connection  with  sensations  experienced  by  the  soul  as  connected  with  an 
extended  organism.  The  beings  known  in  connection  with  each  of  the  senses  are  properly 
termed  percepts.  These  percepts  are  all  extended  non-e^o.s,  and  they  are  known  in  the 
relations  of  extension  and  externality.  These  percepts  are,  however,  various  in  tl.cir 
quality  and  diverse  in  the  organs  and  conditions  by  which  they  are  gained.  To  under- 
stand this,  we  must  consider  that 

Three  classes  of  8  ^^1.  The  sense-perceptions  may  be  divided  into  three  lead 
Sons  Themu£  'm£  classes  :  the  muscular,  the  organic,  and  the  special 
cuUr-  sense-perceptions.  This  division  is  in  part  directed  by  the 


1 36  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §121 

character  of  the  sensations  themselves,  and  in  part  by  their  bodily  con- 
ditions. 

The  muscular  sensations,  or  sense-perceptions,  comprehend  all  those 
which  arise  from  the  varying  conditions  of  the  muscles  when  in  action  and 
at  rest.  The  muscles  constitute  a  very  large  portion  of  the  substance  or 
structure  of  the  body.  They  also  pervade  or  are  closely  connected  witt 
those  parts  and  organs  which  are  not  muscular.  They  suffer  various 
changes,  with  which  are  connected  a  great  variety  of  psychical  expe- 
riences. These  bodily  changes  are  apprehended  directly  in  or  through 
sense-observation ;  the  attendant  psychical  phenomena  are  known  directly 
by  consciousness.  Among  these  are  the  passive  sensations  of  repose,  of 
pleasant  and  painful  fatigue,  of  distressing  convulsion  and  cramp.  To 
these  should  be  added  the  sensations  which  arise  from  violently  cutting, 
stretching,  bruising,  tearing,  or  otherwise  injuring  the  muscular  fibre. 
.Those  which  are  appropriately  called  muscular  sense-perceptions  are  those 
which  depend  on  the  contraction  and  relaxation  of  the  muscular  fibres,  or 
ihe  varying  relative  position  of  the  muscles.  As  we  slowly  stretch  or 
violently  jerk  out  the  arm  or  the  finger,  as  we  rotate  the  wrist,  as  we  tread 
\fY  kick  with  the  foot,  as  we  strain  the  whole  body  to  lift  a  heavy  weight 
or  to  push  over  or  against  a  resisting  obstacle,  or  as  we  exert  a  part  or 
the  whole  of  the  body  in  manifold  conceivable  motions  or  efforts,  we  ex- 
perience as  great  a  variety  of  muscular  sensations.  Scarcely  one  of  these 
is  distinguished  by  a  separate  name  ;  and  the  greater  part  of  them  escape 
common  observation. 

They  are  ranked  lowest  in  the  scale  of  the  sense-perceptions,  because  they  are 
Banked  as  ihe  least  definitely  placed  in  the  sensorium,  because  they  cannot  be  distinctly 
•owest.  recalled  to  the  memory,  and  because  they  are  usually  the  least  positive  in  the 

pleasure  and  pain  which  they  occasion.  They  serve  most  important  uses, 
However,  as  we  shall  see,  in  enabling  us  so  to  direct  and  regulate  the  bodily  motions  as  to  dis- 
tinguish the  individual  body  from  the  rest  of  the  material  universe,  and  to  defend  it  against 
>erious  or  fatal  injuries.  It  is  contended  by  many  that  we  derive  our  first  knowledge  of  ex- 
sended  matter  from  the  muscular  sensations,  as  through  their  varying  movements  the  infant 
first  explores  every  part  of  the  sensorium  within,  and  that  it  is  from  the  sensorium  thus  explored 
that  it  derives  its  measures  of  the  material  world  without.  Some  hold  that  there  are  distinct 
though  vague  sensations  appropriate  to  the  muscles  when  in  repose,  as  truly  as  when  in 
inotion ;  that  in  these  sensations  throughout  the  whole  body,  slight  differences  are  experienced, 
called  by  some  their  local  coloring,  through  which  the  relative  position  of  each  is  understood, 
and  the  sensations  themselves  become  signs  of  place,  or  local  signs.  W.  Wundt,  Beitrdgc  zur 
Tkeorie  der  Sinnes-Wahrnehmung,  Leipzig,  1862;  Lotze,  Med.  Psicholcgie,  Leipzig,  1862; 
Mkrokosmus,  Leipzig,  1856-186  i. 

A.  few  psychologists  of  a  recent  school  have  questioned  whether  the  existence  of  muscular  sensations 
is  A*,  well-established  as  had  been  supposed.  They  explain  the  direction  and  control  of  the  limbs  through 
t-h<  imiscles  very  largely  by  the  varying  sensations  of  the  skin,  etc.  But  the  more  recent  experiment* 
ho ^e  indicated  decisively  special  nerves  for  muscular  sensations  and  the  connection  of  their  excitement 
vath  muscular  activities,  independently  of  the  skin. 

The  muscular  apparatus,  as  attended  with  and  regulated  by  means  of  the  muscular  sensations,  is 
tailed  the  locomotive  apparatus,  and  the  exertion  oi  it  the  "  locomotive  energy,"  as  the  term  is  applied  by 
Hamilton. 


§  123.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  137 

§  122.  The  organic  sensations  are  those  whioh  depend  on  the 
The  crganic.         health  ful  or  diseased  condition  of  the  vital  organs  ;  such  as 

the  stomach,  the  lungs,  the  heart,  the  other  viscera,  and  the 
nerves.  When  these  organs  are  entirely  healthy,  and  their  functions,  a& 
of  digestion,  etc.,  are  normally  and  harmoniously  performed,  they  are 
attended  with  no  very  positive  or  distinctly  noticed  sensations.  When 
they  are  injured  or  diseased,  the  sensations  which  attend  these  conditions 
are  always  unpleasant,  often  distressing,  and  invariably  most  readily  dis 
tinguished  and  recognized.  The  healthy  man  does  not  know  that  he  has  a 
stomach.  The  dyspeptic  scarcely  knows  that  he  has  any  thing  besides 
he  is  so  absorbed  by  the  uncomfortable  or  painful  sensations  that  are  occa- 
sioned by  the  diseased  organ.  The  same  is  true  of  a  man  whose  lungs, 
heart,  or  nerves  are  diseased.  This  class  of  sensations  are  more  readily 
distinguished  and  recalled  than  the  muscular,  because  they  are  more  defi- 
nite and  positive. 

The  question  is  still  in  dispute,  especially  among  physiologists,  whether  thert 
Common  sensi-  is  not  a  so-called  common  sensibility  or  vital  feeling — i.  e.,  a  sensation  equally 
diffused  throughout  the  whole  bodily  frame.  Of  this  common  feeling,  or 
feeling  of  life,  the  sensorium,  as  a  whole,  is  considered  as  the  single  organ, 
just  as  its  separate  parts  are  the  organs  of  the  special  sensations.  The  phenomena  on  which 
the  advocates  of  this  theory  rest  their  views  are  the  feelings  of  bodily  exhilaration  or  depres- 
sion which  are  experienced  at  times  by  all  men,  and  which  cannot  be  assigned  to  any  part  of 
the  frame  as  their  seat  or  place.  Inasmuch  as  these  sensations  in  our  experience  seem  to  be 
diffused  through  the  whole  body,  and  inasmuch  as  no  organ  can  be  discovered  as  their  seat,  it 
i*  argued  that  this  common  sensibility  ought  to  be  enumerated  in  addition  to  the  special  sensa- 
tions. But  this  is  denied  by  others,  because  no  organ  can  be  assigned  for  such  &  function. 

A  view  reconciling  the  two  conflicting  theories  would  make  the  diffused  nervous  substance 
the  organ  or  seat  of  this  general  feeling ;  while  its  specialized  or  determinate  parts  are  the 
organs  and  seats  of  special  sensations.  The  feelings  of  heat  and  cold,  of  shivering,  etc.,  etc., 
might  perhaps  be  assigned  to  the  organism  as  a  whole,  as  well  as  many  other  undefined  inter- 
nal feelings  which  can  be  fixed  in  no  place  or  allotted  to  no  organ,  either  through  inner  expe- 
rience or  sense-observation.  For  the  psychologist,  the  question  has  little  interest  or  impor- 
tance, except,  perhaps,  in  some  relation  which  it  may  be  supposed  to  have  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  extension  and  space. 

The  organic  sensations  are  often  blended  with  the  muscular.  The  vital  organs  are  in  part 
muscular,  or  intertwined  with  muscular  fibre,  as  the  heart,  the  stomach,  etc.  Their  special 
affections  are  therefore  experienced  in  constant  connection  with  normal  or  abnormal  muscular 
sensations,  and  both  are  assigned  to  the  same  part  of  the  sentient  organism. 

§  123.  The  special  sense-perceptions  constitute  the  remaining 
and  the  most  important  class.  All  these  are  distinguished 
by  this  marked  peculiarity,  that  they  are  experienced  through 

organs  specially  constructed  for  the  sole  function  of  sense-perception. 
They  are  the  so-called  five  senses:   SmelL  taste,  hearing,  touch,  and 

sight.     Each  of  these  is  clearly  distinguished  from  every  other,  and  to 

each  of  them  is  assigned  its  own  organ  or  organs. 


13H  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  123. 

The  organ  of  smell  is  the  nostrils,  which  open  ^nto  the  twc 

Smell:    its    or- 

gaa,  conditions,    nasal  fossae,  the  plates  of  which  are  overlaid  by  a  mucous 
membrane  called  the  pituitary  membrane.     The  passages  be 
tween  these  plates  are  somewhat  tortuous,  giving  extent  of  surface  foi 
the  expanse  of  membrane,  and  the  ramifications  of  the  olfactory  nerve. 

This  organ  is  in  immediate  contiguity  with  the  organs  of  taste,  with 
which  it  acts  in  ready  sympathy.  Offensive  smells  occasion  nausea  and 
disinclination  to  food.  Savory  odors,  on  the  other  hand,  stimulate  the 
appetite. 

It  is  generally  believed  that  smell  is  excited  only  by  the  contact  of  the  interior  surface  of 
the  organ  with  minute  portions  of  matter,  or  gases  diffused  through  the  atmosphere.  Many 
substances  that  are  highly  odorous  are  also  extremely  volatile,  and  diminish  rapidly  in  bulk  01 
weight  by  exposure  to  the  atmosphere.  In  most,  if  not  all  such  cases,  the  substances  are  such 
as  can  be  readily  acted  on  by  oxygen.  On  the  other  hand,  the  fragrant  woods,  as  sandal-wood 
and  cedar,  continue  for  a  century  to  be  as  fragrant  as  at  first,  and  their  substance  is  for  yeart, 
to  all  appearance,  unchanged  and  unchangeable. 

But  whatever  uncertainty  there  may  be  in  respect  to  the 

Names  and  char-  .  /  .  J 

acter  of  the  sen-  occasions  of  these  sensations,  with  the  sensations  themselves 
we  are  all  familiar.  Their  varieties  are  almost  endless.  The 
odors  from  flowers,  from  food,  from  perfumes,  from  woods,  from  earths, 
from  metals,  and  from  many  other  objects,  are  too  numerous  to  be  classed 
or  named  except  in  a  very  general  way.  We  class  them  in  a  few  general 
groups  or  divisions,  as  quickening,  refreshing,  depressing,  sickening,  aro- 
matic, spicy,  etc.,  etc.  We  name  them  usually  from  the  objects  which 
excite  them,  as  the  odor  of  the  violet  and  the  lilac,  of  the  rose  and  the 
tube-rose,  of  the  peach  and  the  apple,  of  cedar  and  camphor-wood, 

The  influence  of  odors  and  smells  upon  the  nervous  system,  and  through  this  upon  the 
activity  and  energy  of  the  soul,  ought  not  to  be  passed  over.  Fragrant  odors,  as  of  flowers, 
freshly  dried  hay,  spicy  herbs,  those  of  certain  perfumes,  of  pungent  salts  and  medicines, 
excite  the  energies  and  refresh  the  spirits ;  while  sickening  and  stifling  smells  depress  the 
energies,  and  induce  discouragement  and  faintness.  It  is  not  easy  in  all  cases  to  separate  the 
influence  of  the  sensation  on  the  nervous  system,  from  some  specific  action  of  the  substance 
smelled  upon  the  stomach  or  the  lungs,  or  from  a  purely  physiological  action  upon  the  nerves. 

It  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  so-called  sensations  are  in 
truth  sense-perceptions — i.  e.,  they  involve  apprehended  rela 
tions  of  externality  and  extension.  The  experience  of  every 
odor,  according  to  the  explanation  already  given,  must  be  referred  tc 
some  part  of  the  sensorium.  These  sensations  are,  however,  very  unde 
fined  in  their  place  and  limits,  and  hence  it  has  been  supposed  they  are 
purely  psychical  They  cannot  be  distinctly  recalled  in  the  imagination  or 
memory.  Hence,  in  our  actual  perceptions  of  objects,  they  are  referred 
directly  to  the  object  as  seen  or  handled.  That  is,  the  object  seen  or 
touched  occupies  the  attention  and  engrosses  the  memory,  and  not  thf 


§  124.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PEKCEPTIONS.  139 

object  smelled.  Because  of  this  vagueness  in  these  sense-perceptions,  and 
because  many  of  their  material  occasions  or  agents  are  known  to  be  invisi- 
ble, impalpable,  volatile,  and  diffusible,  the  sense  itself  is  fancifully  yet 
pleasantly  said  to  reveal  the  interior  and  ethereal  essence  of  material  things, 
and  hence  to  be  especially  elevated  and  refined  in  its  own  nature. 

The  language  and  terms  taken  from  this  sense  are  transferred  to  super- 
sensual  objects,  especially  to  the  moral  and  the  religious.  The  odor  of 
incense,  '  the  offence  that  is  rank,  and  smells  to  heaven,'  and  the  like,  are 
examples  of  such  an  application. 

§  124.  The  organs  of  taste  are  the  tongue,  the  palate,  and  a 
Por^on  °f  tne  pharynx.  These  are  also  truly,  though  imper- 
fectly, organs  of  touch.  But  owing  to  some  peculiarity  of 
the  mucous  membrane  with  which  they  are  encased,  they  yield  a  variety 
of  special  sensations  called  taste.  The  tasting  organ,  so  far  as  it  can  be 
traced,  consists  of  minute  papilla,  which  cover  the  upper  surface  of  the 
tongue  and  the  inner  cavity  of  the  mouth. 

Sapid  substances,  to  be  prepared  for  tasting,  must  be  made  liquid. 
Those  which  are  hard  and  compact,  must  be  broken  by  mastication  and 
dissolved  in  the  saliva.  The  harder  the  substance  and  the  slower  tht 
process  of  dissolving,  the  longer  does  the  taste  continue. 

The  sensations  of  taste  are  various  in  kind  and  almost  count 
Variety  of  the  iess  jn  number.  They  are  capable  of  being  so  combined  as  to 

sensations.  ^  .  .  ,         .    .  „,, 

produce  singular  modifications  and  striking  contrasts.  They 
can  thus,  to  some  extent,  be  changed  by  custom  and  formed  by  art. 
Tastes  that  are  at  first  positively  disagreeable,  become  pleasant  by  being 
connected  with  a  stimulant  effect  upon  the  nervous  system — as  the  pun- 
gent and  fiery  taste  of  strong  liquors,  and  the  nauseating  taste  of  tobacco. 
Or  the  sense-organ  itself  becomes  less  sensitive  in  its  energy,  and  of 
course  less  offended  by  the  sensations  which  were  at  first  more  intense, 
and  therefore  positively  disagreeable. 

Tastes,  like  smells,  are  designated  by  a  few  general  epithets, 
HOW  designated,  as  pungent,  bitter,  sweet,  spicy,  acrid,  sharp;  more  precisely 

by  the  objects  which  occasion  them,  as  the  taste  of  pepper 
or  alum,  of  the  peach  or  the  plum,  of  different  vegetables  and  meats.  Of 
this  language  or  vocabulary  of  taste  we  may  say  in  general,  that  it  is  taken 
originally  from  the  sense  of  touch,  as  the  obvious  meaning  of  some  of  the 
terms,  and  the  less  obvious  roots  of  others,  both  indicate.  The  reason  is  obvi- 
ous. The  organ  of  taste  is  also  an  organ  of  touch.  The  tongue  touches  as 
well  as  tastes.  Certain  tastes  are  attended  with  certain  touches. 

It  ought  not  to  escape  our  notice  in  this  connection,  that  the  sense  of 
the  beautiful  and  the  sublime  in  nature,  art,  and  literature,  and  the  ca- 
pacity for  judging  rightly  of  its  occasions  or  sources,  is  called  taste  in 
many  languages  ;  a  singular  transfer  of  a  term  from  one  of  the  grossest  of 
rhe  animal  capacities  to  one  of  the  highest  of  the  psychical  endowments 


HO  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  125 

It  is  explained  by  the  fact  that  the  corporeal  sense  of  taste  is  susceptible, 
of  fine  discriminations  and  of  great  delicacy  of  culture. 

The  gratifications  of  this  sense  constitute  a  large  portion  of 
Gratifications.  our  animal  enjoyments.  When  these  gratifications  are  regu- 
lated by  a  regard  to  health,  to  future  capacity  for  intellectual, 
moral,  and  religious  activity  and  culture,  and  especially  when  they  are  con- 
nected with  social  and  domestic  pleasures,  they  are  by  no  means  to  be 
despised  or  disesteemed.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  to  be  remembered  that, 
when  denied  or  when  pampered,  they  easily  degenerate  into  the  most  im- 
perious cravings  of  our  nature.  Hence  they  are  perverted  so  easily,  and 
>ipen  so  soon  into  frightful  and  debasing  appetites. 

The  question  is  never  mooted,  whether  the  sensations  of  taste 
rela"  are  Purely  subjective,  or  independent  of  all  perceptions  of 
externality  and  extension.  They  cannot,  in  fact,  be  experi- 
enced apart  from  the  exercise  of  touch,  which,  by  the  concession  of  all, 
*nvolves  the  apprehension  of  these  relations.  It  is  inconceivable  that  the 
one  should  not  accompany  the  other.  We  can  form  no  imagination  of  a 
taste  which  is  not  also  a  touch,  bringing  into  active  requisition  the  dis- 
crimination of  external  and  extended  objects.  Nor  is  taste,  as  a  sensation, 
conceivable  except  as  an  affection  of  that  part  of  the  sensorium  which 
pervades  the  surfaces  of  the  tongue  and  palate. 

§  125.  The  sense  of  hearing  comes  next  in  order.  Its  organ 
tearing :  its  or-  jg  a  complicated  and  convoluted  bony  tube  or  chamber,  re 
sembling  somewhat  the  interior  of  a  snail-shell,  and  furnished 
externally  with  an  expanded  appendage,  the  surface  of  which  is  corru- 
gated somewhat  after  the  manner  of  the  bony  passage  within.  The  object 
of  the  external  ear  (which  with  the  internal  constitutes  the  organ),  is  to 
receive,  convey,  and  quicken  the  vibratory  action  of  the  air  till  it  reaches 
the  tympanum.  This  is  a  parchment-like  substance,  which  bears,  through 
a  chain  of  bones  (osselets  d'ouie),  upon  a  liquid  within.  The  arrangement 
of  this  entire  structure,  when  judged  by  mechanical  principles,  is  obvi- 
ously adapted  and  designed  to  carry  and  increase  vibratory  action.  But 
the  vibrating  tympanum  is  not  itself  hearing.  Though  we  seek  for  the 
«pirit  of  sound  in  all  these  narrow  and  winding  chambers,  we  cannot  find 
it  there ;  but  it  flees  from  our  search  like  a  shadow  or  a  mocking  spirit. 
It  is  the  soul  which  lives  in  the  sensorium  that  hears.  When  the  tym- 
panum is  made  to  vibrate  with  requisite  intensity  and  rapidity,  and  the 
nervous  apparatus  is  unharmed,  and  the  soul  is  attent,  then  does  it  experi- 
ence those  peculiar  sense-perceptions  which  we  call  the  sensations  of  sound. 

Every  body  which  emits  or  conveys  sound  is  susceptible  of  vibration.     The 

Sonoro-is     bod-     sonorous  body  with  which  we  are  most  familiar,  is  the  atmosphere,  which,  by 
ee;  hotvcharac-     ,    . 
lerked.  being  everywhere  present,  is  the  constant  and  the   pervading   medium  of 

sound.      Many  solid  bodies  are,  however,  capable  of  more  delicate   vibra- 
tions, and  hence  are  more  perfect  conductors  of  sound ;  or  perhaps  they  owe  their  effect  oc 


g  125.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-P1L&CEPT10.MS.  141 

the  sensorium  in  part  to  the  vibrations  which  touch  convey?  through  the  bony  structure.  A 
stick  of  timber  will  convey  to  the  ear  in  contact  with  it,  a  whisper  or  the  scratch  of  a  pin  fo» 
scores  or  hundreds  of  feet.  If  the  ear  is  brought  in  contact  with  a  musical  instrument,  eithei 
directly  or  through  the  medium  of  some  intervening  substance,  the  intensity  of  the  sound  is 
greatly  increased. 

Of  these  sensations  there  is  a  great  variety.  What  deserves 
variousensatioils  esPecial  notice  is,  that  each  one  of  this  endless  variety  is 
readily  distinguished  from  every  other,  and  very  many  of 
them  can  be  recalled  and  recognized.  A  single  human  voice  is  capable  of 
emitting  a  great  variety  in  respect  to  quality,  tone,  and  pitch.  The  voice 
of  each  individual  has  its  distinguishable  characteristic  in  each  of  these 
particulars.  The  wind  sighs  and  whistles  and  groans  in  the  forest,  or 
beats  and  rolls  among  the  clouds  like  resounding  waves.  Almost  ever) 
substance  has  a  sound  of  its  own  when  it  strikes  or  falls  upon  another^ 
and  this  sound  can  be  varied  in  quantity  and  quality.  Of  these  varieties 
of  single  sensations,  some  are  agreeable,  others  are  offensive  ;  others  still 
are  indifferent,  but  clearly  and  readily  distinguishable.  These  last  servo 
the  most  important  uses,  as  they  convey  definite  and  important  knowledge 
of  the  qualities  of  the  variously  sounding  bodies. 

Single  sensations  of  sound  are  distinguished  by  quality,  by 
mtensity  or  loudness,  and  by  volume  or  quantity.  The  dif- 
ferences in  simple  quality  are  surprisingly  numerous,  and  are 
characterized  by  a  variety  of  expressive  epithets.  Intensity  describes  the 
force  of  the  sound,  irrespective  of  quality:  as  low  or  loud,  strong  or 
weak.  Volume  characterizes  the  sound  as  completely  taking  possession 
of  that  part  of  the  sensorium  which  is  capable  of  being  affected,  and  ex- 
cluding all  other  sounds  but  itself.  Such  epithets  as  broad,  massive,  over- 
whelming, etc.,  etc.,  express  this  characteristic.  Besides  these  obvious 
differences,  there  are  others  less  discernible  to  common  apprehension, 
which  are  observed  and  named  by  elocutionists  and  musicians.  The  ep? 
thets  by  which  they  are  characterized  are  technical,  or  terms  of  art,  unO 
hence  are  not  incorporated  into  common  speech.  The  epithets  which  w- 
commonly  hear  are  such  as  low  and  high,  feeble  and  loud,  soft  and  harsh 
smooth  and  rough  —  sweet,  gentle,  clear,  piercing,  light,  heavy,  etc.,  etc 
All  these  epithets,  it  will  be  noticed,  were  originally  appropriated  U 
the  other  senses,  especially  to  those  of  touch.  Some  are  derived  from 
taste  and  sight.  To  a  limited  extent,  sounds  are  named  from  the  object* 
which  excite  them  :  as  the  bell  and  glass-like,  the  wooden,  the  metallic, 
etc.,  etc.  But  in  general,  the  sensations  themselves  are  so  definitely  and 
sharply  distinguished,  that  they  admit  of  a  great  variety  of  epithets  which 
directly  describe  their  subjective  quality. 


in  sue-  Besides  these  distinguishing  differences  in  single  sensations 

Cession  and  com-  _               _      ,                       °,               ,.,,-,                                -11- 

Mmtion.  Meio-  of  sound,  there  are  others  which  belong  to  sounds  when  IB 

dy  and   harmo-  _             ,  .                       -<          _,           ,     ,                                   .. 

ny.  succession  and  combination.     Sounds  of  almost  any  quality 


142  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §126 

become  pleasing  when  uttered  in  any  regular  succession  ;  especially  wher 
a  series  is  made  to  repeat  and  to  return  upon  itself,  and  its  measures  01 
intervals  are  marked  by  accent  or  beat.  Examples  of  these  are  the  beat- 
ing of  a  drum  to  a  tune,  the  rhythmical  measure  of  well-sounding  prose, 
or  the  more  regular  and  marked  repetitions  of  poetic  verse.  If  the  sounds 
possess  musical  quality,  these  repetitions  constitute  melody,  giving  exqui 
site  sensuous  pleasure  to  the  ear,  and,  by  expression,  speaking  so  movingly 
by  the  soul.  To  this  is  superadded  the  more  artificial  and  refined  attribute 
of  harmony,  when  sounds  of  different  musical  quality  are  given  in  concord, 
greatly  enlarging,  enriching,  and  elevating  both  the  sensuous  and  expres- 
sional  resources  of  music.  Melody  and  harmony  combined,  when  added 
to  what  culture  has  done  for  the  voice,  and  art  for  the  improvement  of 
instruments,  are  the  grounds  of  the  elevated  enjoyment  that  is  ministered 
by  the  varied  works  of  musical  genius. 

§  126.   The  sensations  of  sound  are  invested  with  even  a 

nigner  interest,  and  applied  to  a  still  more   elevated  use. 

Without  the  sense  of  hearing,  vocal  utterances  do  not  be- 
come sounds ;  and  without  vocal  utterances  as  heard,  there  could  be  no 
language.  As  addressed  to  and  affecting  the  senses,  sounds  are  pleasing 
or  displeasing,  musical  and  melodious  or  the  contrary,  harmonious  or 
discordant ;  as  significant  of  human  thought  and  feeling,  they  are  endowed 
with  a  wondrous  and  almost  a  sublime  power.  When  we  listen  to  a 
foreign  language  of  which  we  are  ignorant,  or  when  we  cannot  catch  the 
sense  of  our  mother-tongue,  it  is  to  our  ears  a  jargon  or  a  chatter,  or,  at 
best,  but  a  pleasing  flow  of  insignificant  sense-perceptions.  But  as  soon 
as  these  sounds  are  understood,  they  are  transformed,  and,  as  it  were, 
transfigured  into  a  new  nature  by  subserving  a  nobler  use.  They  become 
the  audible  expressions  of  thought,  in  its  most  subtle  distinctions  and  its 
most  complicated  connections.  By  this  means — literally,  this  intervening 
medium — thoughts  are  communicated  from  one  mind  to  another  ;  they  are 
forever  fixed,  and  become  the  permanent  possession  of  the  race. 

Not  only  are  sounds  significant  of  thought ;  they  also  ex- 
feefkig8ive  °f  Press  feeling.  Even  simple  and  inarticulate  tones  do  this, 

especially  if  the  tones  are  musical,  or  partake  of  musical 
quality.  The  whine  of  the  beggar,  the  command  of  the  master,  and  the 
threat  of  the  enraged,  are  expressive  as  tones,  even  when  no  words  are 
uttered,  or  when  the  uttered  words  fail  to  be  understood.  A  plaintive  or 
a  triumphant  strain  of  music  is  easily  interpreted,  though  no  thoughts  are 
uttered  in  words.  But  when  thought  and  feeling  are  both  conveyed,  the 
one  by  clear  and  well-chosen  words,  and  the  other  by  an  expressive  elocu 
tion,  and  the  soul  is  enraptured  and  elevated  by  eloquent  speech,  then  the 
resources  of  sound  and  the  importance  of  hearing  begin  to  be  appreciated, 
When,  again,  poetry  and  music  lend  both  grace  and  expression  to  thought 
and  feeling,  we  have  a  still  higher  sample  of  the  dignity  of  a  single 


§127.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  148 

sense,  and  the  wondrous  uses  to  which  it  may  be  applied  in  the  ser.ice  oi 
the  soul. 

In  view  of  these  relations,  the  sense  of  hearing  has  been 
°f  ran^e(i  higher  than  any  other.  It  effects  a  connection  be- 
tween one  soul  and  another  ;  it  enables  the  spirit  to  breathe 
out  feelings  which  even  articulate  speech  cannot  utter.  Its  dignity  and 
worth  are  especially  illustrated  in  the  case  of  the  blind.  It  is  to  them  the 
subtle  conveyancer  of  those  emotions,  which  to  others  the  eye,  the  counte- 
nance, the.  attitude,  and  the  gesture  all  combine  in  expressing.  To  the 
blind  the  voice  softens  in  tenderness,  thrills  with  love,  is  harsh  from  anger, 
*nd  lingers  in  entreaty.  To  him  every  tone  breathes  an  expressed  emo- 
tion. An  intelligent  and  educated  blind  man  once  remarked  with  great 
Intensity  of  meaning  :  "  The  human  voice  is  to  me  the  divinest  endow 
of  man." 


We  need,  perhaps,  to  repeat  the  observation,  that  what  the  soul  experiences 
Sounds  ;  serse-  in  hearing  is  truly  a  sense-perception  —  i.  e.,  as  already  explained,  it  is  an 
affection  of  the  soul  as  connected  with  the  extended  organism  with  which  it 
connects  and  from  which  it  distinguishes  itself.  It  is  common  to  conceive 
of  sound  as  a  purely  spiritual  affection,  involving  no  relations  to  extended  matter.  It  is  con 
fidently  asserted  that,  were  the  soul  capable  of  hearing  alone,  it  would  experience  the  suc- 
cessive sensations  in  listening  to  a  musical  air  as  only  a  series  of  delightful  emotions,  as  phe- 
nomena purely  and  simply  subjective.  This,  for  the  reasons  already  given,  we  think  incor- 
rect. These  sensations,  like  all  the  others,  are  assigned  to  some  place  in  the  sensorium,  and 
if  not  bounded  by  definite  limits,  involve  nevertheless  the  apprehension  of  an  extended 
surface.  These  apprehensions  are  so  indefinite,  indeed,  that  ordinarily  we  do  not  regard 
them  ;  because  we  do  not  rest  in  the  sensations,  but  use  them  as  signs  of  the  sense-percep- 
tions, or  the  relations  which  they  involve.  Instead  of  the  sound,  we  think  of  the  sonorous 
body;  or,  if  the  sensational  element  is  agreeable,  we  think  of  its  subjective  quality;  or,  if  it 
excites  or  suggests  a  series  of  warm  or  elevated  emotions,  we  are  absorbed  in  these.  In  other 
words,  we  are  usually  too  busy  in  the  interpretation  of  sounds  to  think  simply  of  them  as  sound- 
perceptions.  We  leave  the  sound  itself  unnoticed,  except  so  far  as  its  relations  signify  some- 
thing, and  we  pass  at  once  to  that  which  it  signifies;  in  the  case  of  tangible  or  visible  qualities, 
10  this  class  of  properties  ;  when  it  conveys  thought  or  feeling,  to  the  intellectual  or  emotional 
Import  which  we  interpret.  The  range  of  this  significance  is  so  vast,  varied,  and  interesting, 
that  it  is  not  surprising  that  it  occupies  our  chief  attention,  and  leads  us  to  overlook  the  rela- 
tions of  the  sound  to  place  or  extent  in  the  sensorium,  and  even  causes  that  we  fail  to  advert 
to  the  fact  that  it  has  such  relations.  These  are  not  obtrusive  to  the  attention  at  any  time  ;  at 
best,  they  are  but  vaguely  apprehended  ;  but  that  they  are  perceived,  is  manifest  from  the  con- 
siderations already  noticed,  and  also  from  this,  that  an  intense  or  extraordinary  sound  always 
distinctly  affects  the  ear  —  i.  e.,  a  portion  of  the  sensorium  which  is  defined  to  our  aoprehension, 
though  vaguely. 

§  127.   The  sense  of  touch  comes  next  in  order.     The  organ 


The    sense    of    of  fa{s  sense  |8  the  skin.     The  skin  is  the  external  covering 

touch.    Organ.  ...  . 

of  the  body,  and  the  lining  of  certain  internal  cavities,  as  the 
mouth.  The  sensations  depend  on  the  action  of  certain  minute  papillm, 
which  are  placed  beneath  the  external  cuticle,  and  each  one  of  waicb 


144  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  127. 

encloses  the  termination  of  a  nerve,  or  of  a  nervous  branch  or  branchlet 
Different  portions  of  the  skin  are  more  or  less  sensitive,  and  the  percep- 
tions which  are  gained  through  them  are  more  or  less  delicate,  according 
to  the  number  of  the  nerves  and  the  fineness  and  compactness  of  the 
nervous  terminations.  The  thickness  or  thinness  of  the  external  covering 
or  cuticle  is  also  an  important  circumstance.  In  general,  we  may  say  that 
those  portions  of  the  body  in  which  the  perceptions  are  least  acute  and 
discriminating  are  the  most  scantily  supplied  with  nerves,  and  their 
oranches  extend  over  a  very  large  surface — in  some  cases  over  several 
square  inches.  In  the  more  sensitive  parts  of  the  body,  on  the  other 
hand,  there  are  very  many  distinct  nerves  and  nervous  branches  and 
branchlets. 

The  distinguished  physiologist,  E.  H.  Weber,  was  the  first  who  instituted  a 
Weber's  experi-  series  of  careful  experiments,  in  order  definitely  to  ascertain  the  different 
ments.  degrees  of  sensitiveness  in  touch  which  are  natural  to  different  parts  of  the 

body.  He  employed  for  this  purpose  the  points  of  a  pair  of  dividers,  which 
were  separated  more  or  less  widely  and  applied  to  different  parts  of  the  body.  He  ascertained 
that  in  some  parts  of  the  body  these  points  could  not  be  perceived  as  separate,  unless  the 
dividers  were  opened  as  widely  as  three  inches ;  while  in  others  the  extremities  needed  to  be 
only  the  thirty-sixth  of  an  inch  apart  in  order  to  be  distinctly  perceived  as  two.  Similai 
experiments  have  been  made  by  other  physiologists.  The  tip  of  the  tongue,  the  lips,  and  the 
ends  of  the  fingers,  are  the  most  sensitive  and  discriminating  organs  of  touch.  In  some  ani- 
mals, the  lips — as  of  the  walrus  and  the  seal — are  exceedingly  sensitive.  The  antennae  of 
many  insects  are  supposed  to  be  endowed  with  extraordinary  susceptibility  of  touch.  The 
human  hand,  inasmuch  as  it  is  lined  with  a  sensitive  covering,  and — through  its  connection 
with  the  arm  and  shoulder,  and  its  division  into  thumb  and  fingers — is  provided  with  an  appa- 
ratus especially  adapted  to  regulate  and  direct  the  application  of  touch  and  pressure,  is  preemi- 
nently the  organ  of  touch.  E.  H.  Weber,  De  Pulsu,  etc.,  1834;  also  art.  Gefuhh-siwi, 
Wagner,  H.-  W.-  B.  der  Physiologic.  See  also  Sir  Charles  Bell.  The  Human  Hand;  it* 
Mechanism,  etc. 

It  is  an  essential  condition  of  a  sense-perception  of  touch, 
ttoneofi?JuCc0hldi~  that  the  object  should  be  actually  applied  to  or  brought  in 

contact  with  the  organ — i.  e.,  with  some  portion  of  the  sur- 
face of  the  body.  According  as  this  application  is  made  with  greater  or 
less  force,  the  sensation  varies  in  intensity  and  the  perception  in  distinct- 
ness, and  sometimes  the  quality  of  the  sensation  changes  in  its  nature.  A 
light  pressure  or  gentle  touch,  in  the  ordinary  and  normal  conditions  of 
the  organ,  is  usually  favorable  to  distinct  or  delicate  perception.  If  the 
pressure  is  increased,  the  sensation  may  become  excessive  and  unpleasant, 
and  even  positively  painful ;  while  the  perception  is  less  acute,  owing, 
probably,  to  the  compression  of  the  nerve  or  nerves.  In  some  cases,  the 
very  slightest  contact  that  is  possible,  with  a  careful  avoidance  of  press 
are,  as  in  the  touch  of  a  feather,  is  attended  with  the  greatest  sensibility 
and  the  acutest  discernment.  But  the  force  of  the  application  of  the 
organ  to  the  object  of  touch  depends  usually  on  muscular  effort.  It 


g  12N.  CLASSES    OF    SENSE-PERCMTIONS.  145 

scarcely  ever  can  happen  that  muscular  effort  is  not  called  into  requisition, 
either  in  positive  and  direct  pressure,  as  of  the  hand  or  finger,  or  in  with- 
holding from  pressure  beyond  a  certain  degree,  or  in  resisting  pressure 
whon  it  is  imposed  from  without.  All  these  efforts  are  directed,  meas- 
ured, and  controlled  by  means  of  varying  muscular  sensations  whicli 
attend  each  form  and  degree  of  exertion. 

8  128.  Hence  it  is  that  the  muscular  sensations  always  attend 

Variety  of  sen-  v 

eations  involved    and  often  seem  to  be  blended  with  the  perceptions  that  are 

in  toucii. 

appropriate  to  touch.  In  the  acquired  or  complex  percep- 
tions of  touch,  these  muscular  sensations  play  a  conspicuous  part,  as  we 
shall  see  in  the  appropriate  place  (§  145).  In  common  language,  and  in 
the  earlier  classifications  of  philosophers,  both  psychologists  and  physiolo- 
gists, the  muscular  sensations  were  assigned  to  the  sense  of  touch.  So 
are  and  were  the  sensations  of  temperature,  many  of  which  arise  from 
contact  with  a  body  warmer  or  colder  than  the  touching  organ,  and  hence 
in  experience  and  imagination  are  referred  to  touch  proper.  Inasmuch  as 
these  various  classes  of  sensations  are  all  concerned  in  many  of  the  per- 
ceptions of  touch,  it  is  necessary  to  consider  each  apart. 

The  first  class  are  the  sensations  of  gentle  touch,  or  of  touch 

Sensations  prop-  .  . 

er  of  gentle  proper.  Ihese  sensations  are  occasioned  more  frequently  by 
feeling  an  extended  surface,  but  they  may,  and  often  do, 
arise  from  gentle  contact  with  the  extremity  of  a  pointed  body.  Sensa- 
tions thus  arising  are  neither  pleasurable  nor  painful.  One  is  scarcely 
distinguishable  from  another  by  its  agreeable  or  disagreeable  quality. 
Hence  none  of  them  can  be  readily  reproduced  in  the  memory.  Pressure 
against  a  surface,  or  motion  over  it,  both  involving  muscular  sensations, 
seems  to  be  required  in  order  to  secure  from  different  substances  sensations 
sufficiently  positive  and  energetic  to  enable  us  to  distinguish  the  sub- 
stances themselves,  and  to  recall  to  memory  the  sensations  which  they 
occasion. 

The  second  class  are  the  acute  and  often  painful  sensations 

Sensations     in-  _  '  J 

voiving  violence  that  come  from  any  substance  that  does  violence  to  the 
organ,  as  the  prick  of  a  pointed  substance,  the  cut  of  a 
knife,  the  stroke  of  a  whip,  the  bruise  from  a  stick.  These  sensations  are 
all  distinct  and  energetic,  and  occasion  a  shock  to  the  nervous  system 
which  is  more  or  less  violent.  They  are  more  definitely  localized  than  the 
sensations  of  touch  proper,  and  more  distinctly  revived  and  recalled.  The 
sensitiveness  of  the  skin  to  affections  of  this  kind  is  not  proportioned  to 
the  sensitiveness  of  its  touch.  It  was  proved  by  the  experiments  of 
Weber,  and  others,  that  those  parts  of  the  surface  of  the  body  which  are 
furnished  with  the  fewest  and  the  most  sparsely  ramified  nerves  and 
branches  of  nerves,  and  are  the  most  incapable  of  sensations  of  proper 
touch,  are  none  the  less  susceptible  to  exquisite  sensations  of  this  sort. 
These  sensations  are  not  confined  to  the  surface  of  the  body,  its  interior 
10 


146  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  128. 

portions  being  capable  of  exquisite  suffering  from  pricking,  cutting,  and 
laceration.  Hence  this  class  of  sensations  seem,  from  their  occasion  01 
origin,  to  be  more  nearly  allied  to  those  sensations  which  we  have  called 
organic,  and  which  are  most  conspicuous  when  an  organ  is  injured  or  dis- 
eased, 

The  third  class  are  sensations  of  temperature.  These  arise 
sensations  of  usually  from  contact  of  the  body  with  some  material  object 

temperature. 

of  different  temperature  from  itself.  They  are  also  experi- 
enced by  what  is  called  radiation,  from  an  object  not  in  contact  with  tbfl 
body.  In  such  cases  the  body  may  be  said  to  be  in  direct  communication 
or  contact  with  the  heated  atmosphere,  or  the  vibrating  medium  of  heat, 
The  sensations  of  temperature  are,  in  many  particulars,  like  the  painful 
sensations  which  we  have  just  described.  They  are  like  them  in  that  they 
are  not  confined  to  the  surface.  In  case  of  scalding  from  water  or  steam, 
or  of  a  severe  burn  from  fire,  or  of  violent  internal  inflammation,  or  of 
febrile  excitement,  their  causes  are  purely  internal,  and  the  affections  are 
organic.  The  sensitiveness  of  the  body  to  heat  and  cold  is  not  propor- 
tioned to  its  susceptibility  to  touch. 

The   fourth  class  are  the  sensations  of  pressure  or  weight. 

Sensations       of  -.    /»    •  T  *.  -i         T    V    i 

pressure  and  These,  so  far  as  they  are  definite  and  peculiar,  are  the  slightly 
benumbed  and  painful  feeling  which  a  weight  occasions 
when  laid  upon  the  hand  or  arm,  when  there  is  no  muscular  effort  to  sus- 
tain or  resist  the  pressure.  In  such  a  case  slight  additions  may  be  made 
to  the  bulk  of  the  body  imposed,  without  being  perceived.  If  the  same 
experiments  are  made  upon  the  parts  of  the  body  which  are  more  mobile 
— as  upon  the  lips,  when  resistance  and  muscular  effort  is  provoked  and 
made  necessary — minute  differences  will  be  perceived  and  appreciated. 
Accurate  experiments  of  this  kind  were  made  by  Weber,  eliciting  sur- 
prising results.  Hence  the  so-called  sensations  of  weight  are  very  largely 
complex  in  their  nature,  being  made  up  of  muscular  sensations. 

The  fifth  class  are  the  muscular  sensations,  which  have  been 
a^rea^7  sufficiently  characterized.  Not  only  do  they  enter 
very  largely  into  the  sensations  of  weight,  but  into  all  those 
sensations  which  require  motion  upon  and  application  to  the  surface  of  the 
body  which  is  touched.  The  sensations  of  the  rough  and  smooth,  of  the 
adhesive  and  slippery,  of  the  elastic  and  non-elastic,  are  of  this  character. 
According  to  the  nicety  with  which  these  sensations  are  distinguished,  is 
the  Delicacy  of  perception  by  touch.  Success  in  any  manual  art  depends 
upon  this  sort  of  nicety.  Skill  in  sewing,  engraving,  and  drawing,  in 
the  handling  of  tools,  in  driving,  rowing,  and  playing  on  musical  instru- 
ments, depends  on  the  natural  capacity  for  and  the  nice  attention  to  these 
muscular  sensations.  They  are  equally,  if  not  more  important,  to  our 
judgments  of  form,  size,  distance,  and  the  various  relations  of  extension 
as  we  shall  see  in  considering  the  acquired  perceptions. 


§129.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  14^ 

One  feature  all  these  sensations  share  in  common.  Though  sufficiently  alike 
Sensations  local-  to  be  classed  together  as  tactual,  muscular,  etc.,  etc.,  yet  they  differ  in  quality 
according  to  the  part  of  the  body  which  is  their  seat.  The  tactual  sensations 
on  the  palm  are  different  from  those  on  the  back  of  the  hand  ;  those  on  the 
band  are  different  from  those  on  the  different  parts  of  the  arm,  and  so  on  through  every  por- 
tion of  the  surface  of  the  body.  The  same  is  true  of  the  different  muscular  sensations.  The 
muscular  sensations  which  attend  the  opening  and  closing  of  one  finger,  differ  from  those 
which  are  experienced  in  opening  and  shutting  the  hand.  Those  which  we  feel  in  managing 
the  arm  differ  from  those  which  are  used  in  controlling  the  position  of  the  head.  The  same 
is  true  of  the  other  classes  of  sensations  which  are  appropriate  to  the  interior  of  the  trunk  or 
the  vital  organs.  This  fact  is  of  great  importance  in  the  explanation  of  the  acquired  percep- 
tions. 

§  129.  From  considering  the  sensational  element  in  touch. 
we  Pass  *°  t^3e  Perceptional.  By  perception  proper,  in  touch, 
as  in  the  other  senses,  we  apprehend  objects  as  extended  and 
external.  To  touch  has  been  assigned  especial  superiority  in  these  dis- 
criminations. Many  limit  them  exclusively  to  touch,  making  it  the  only 
agent  through  which  we  perceive,  and  assigning  to  all  the  other  senses  the 
sensational  function  only.  Others,  as  we  have  already  said,  limit  percep-. 
tion  proper  to  touch  and  sight.  Our  own  view  has  been  already  defined. 
We  hold  that  through  every  sensation,  and  of  course  in  connection  with 
every  one  of  the  senses,  we  perceive — i.  e.,  we  apprehend  objects  as  ex 
tended  and  external.  The  perceptions  of  touch,  however,  differ  from  those 
of  the  other  senses  not  only  in  being  more  definite  and  minute,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  greater  energy  of  the  sensations,  but  also  (with  the  exception 
of  sight)  in  their  immeasurably  superior  variety.  For  this  reason  they  de- 
serve special  consideration. 

Let  it  be  observed  as  a  preliminary,  that  what  we  perceive  by  touch,  or  any 
externality  per-  other  sense,  is  not  extension  or  externality  in  the  abstract  or  the  general,  but 
concrete in  '  or^v  extended  an^  external  objects;  or,  more  exactly,  we  perceive  objects  as 

external  and  extended.  We  do  not,  by  touch  alone,  gain  mathematical  ex- 
tension, nor  mathematical  qualities,  nor  the  relations  of  pure  mathematical  quantities  to  one 
another,  nor  to  the  pure  or  abstract  space  or  time  which  we  conceive  to  exist.  We  simply 
perceive  extended  and  external  somethings.  We  afterward  know  them  as  having  surfaces,  as 
extended  in  different  directions,  as  having  different  forms,  sizes,  and  dimensions.  Every 
object  which  we  perceive  has  a  definite  extension  of  its  own,  and  hence  can  be  compared  with 
another  object  in  position,  dimensions,  form,  etc.,  etc.  But  first  of  all,  it  is  and  must  be 
known  as  an  extended  object,  distinguished  from  the  perceiving  agent,  and  from  every  other 
extended  object. 

It  is  contended  by  many  that  the  reason  why  we  perceive  extension  by  touch, 
ti-nsion  by'touch.  either  exclusively,  or  in  common  with  sight,  is,  that  the  organism  itself  is 
b0texSi<mbin  extended*  We  find»  tnev  sav>  tnat  m  those  Parts  of  tne  skin  in  wtl'ch  our 
tha  organism.  perception  of  extension  is  the  most  definite  and  acute,  the  nerves  and  the 
nervous  endings  are  most  frequent ;  while  in  those  portions  in  which  its  dimensions  are  most 
raguely  perceived,  these  are  more  sparse.  Hence  it  is  concluded  that  two  nervous  termina- 
tions at  least  are  required  for  the  apprehension  of  superficial  extension.  Moreover,  it  is  urged 
that,  as  the  remaining  organs,  except  those  of  sight  and  touch,  are  each  furnished  with  a  single 
nerve  only,  or,  at  most,  witb  ',  ingle  pair,  that  is  the  sufficient  reason  why,  by  means  of  these, 


148  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  129 

we  have  no  perception  of  extension.  In  touch  and  sight,  it  is  said,  the  soul  being  affected  by 
sensations  through  nerves  placed  side  by  side  in  space,  must  necessarily  perceive  objects  as 
extended.  Some  contend  that  this  is  done  as  the  soul  is  affected  directly  by  the  outer  termini 
or  extremes  of  the  sentient  nerves.  Others  hold  that  the  inner  extremities  of  the  nerves,  as 
they  terminate  in  the  brain  or  other  nerve-centres,  present  spatial  relations,  similar  to  those  of 
(heir  outer  extremities,  and  so  enable  the  soul  to  perceive  the  extended  objects  of  touch.  The 
game  explanation  is  given  of  the  perception  of  extension  by  sight.  This  view  is  held  chiefly  by 
physiologists,  and,  among  them,  by  the  distinguished  John  Muller,  with  whom  many  othera 

agree. 

Of  this  theory  we  observe,  that  it  overlooks  entirely  the  difference  between 
Physiological  the  physical  conditions  of  perception  and  the  act  of  perception.  It  may  be, 
conditions  and  an(j  probabiy  is,  a  necessary  condition  to  perceiving  extension  by  touch  and 

sight,  that  many  nerves  should  terminate  side  by  side  in  the  organs,  and  be 
spread  over  an  extended  expanse.  But  it  is  one  thing  for  the  nervous  apparatus  to  occupy  an 
extended  organ,  and  entirely  another  for  the  mind,  by  means,  or  on  occasion  of  the  sensations 
which  follow  the  excitement  of  these  nerves,  to  perceive  an  extended  object.  The  impinging 
solid  and  the  impinging  light  are  both  extended ;  the  impinged  skin  or  retina  present  a  sur- 
face that  is  made  up  of  nervous  endings  that  are  placed  side  by  side.  From  the  application 
of  the  one  physical  extension  to  the  other— of  the  object  to  the  organ — ensue  the  sensations 
of  touch  or  sight,  but  the  soul  in  its  sensations  does  not  feel  that  one  or  more  nervous  termina- 
tions are  affected.  For  it  is  not  aware  that  it  has  nerves  at  all,  or  that  one  or  more  are  called 
into  action.  Nor  is  it  aware  that  separate  parts  of  its  skin,  or  other  organs,  are  thus  affected. 
It  knows  neither  nerves  nor  extended  organs  as  organs.  It  takes  note  neither  of  the  outer 
nor  the  inner  terminations  of  its  nerves,  at  the  time  when,  or  as  the  means  by  which,  it  appre- 
hends an  extended  surface.  The  spatial  arrangement  of  the  nervous  endings  may  be  a  physio- 
logical fact,  but  this  fact  cannot  be  applied  to  the  explanation  of  the  apprehension  of  exten- 
sion as  a  psychical  process.  Moreover,  this  theory,  and  many  others  adopted  by  physiologists, 
involve  the  absurdity  of  making  the  soul  first  to  know  extension  physiologically,  in  order  to 
know  extension  psychologically — i.  e.,  they  require  it  to  know  the  nerves  as  side  by  side,  in  order 
to  know  that  very  property  which  is  essential  to  knowing  an  object  as  side  by  side  with  another. 
Besides,  if  two  nervous  endings  at  the  least  are  essential  to  conditionate  the  apprehension 
of  an  extended  surface,  then  the  affection  of  one  alone  is  not  sufficient.  This  is  conceded  by 
all  the  physiologists  who  take  the  view  which  we  are  now  considering.  But  if  the  affection 
of  a  single  nerve  does  not  give  extension,  how  can  the  affection  of  two  or  twenty  ?  The 
placing  of  twenty  lines  side  by  side  gives  no  breadth.  Some  contend  that  three  at  least  must 
be  called  into  action,  of  which  the  two  outermost  must  be  affected,  and  the  one  between  be  left 
inactive  ;  the  apprehension  of  a  nerve  in  a  state  of  inaction  being  supposed  somehow  to  occa- 
sion perceived  extension.  But  the  sensation  of  the  intermediate  nerve  in  inaction  is  still  a 
sensation,  and  the  problem  would  be,  how,  by  the  combined  sensations  from  three  nerves  side 
by  side,  neither  of  which  gives  extension  by  itself,  to  account  for  the  perception  of  an  ex- 
tended surface. 

Another  theory  of  the  physiologists  is,  that  the  perception  of  extension  by 
Not  by  local  touch  and  sight  depends  not  on  the  knowledge  of  the  spatial  relations  of  the 

nerves,  but  on  the  diverse  quality  of  the  several  sensations,  both  tactual  and 

muscular,  corresponding  to  the  part  of  the  body  which  is  affected.  To  every 
part  of  the  body,  on  the  surface  and  through  the  interior,  there  is  appropriated  a  certain  qual- 
ity and  degree  of  sensation.  When  any  number  of  these  sensations  are  experienced,  it  is 
urged,  these  affections,  experienced  in  their  relation  to  one  another,  are  the  means  by  which 
extension  is  perceived.  Single  sensations,  as  such,  experienced  apart,  give  no  relation  of 
Bpace ;  but  several,  experienced  together,  give  extension.  To  this  explanation  the  objection 
is  fatal,  which  we  have  already  adduced,  that  any  number  of  sensations  cannot,  by  the  circum- 
stance that  they  are  experienced  together,  evolve  any  relation  of  extension,  unless  I  hey  giv« 


§  130.  CLASSES    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  14S 

extension  when  experienced  alone.  No  addition  of  zeros  will  make  a  unit ;  no  inultiplkatior 
of  breadthless  lines  will  give  breadth  ;  no  experience  of  a  number  of  extension.ess  sensations 
will  suggest  extension. 

Lotze,  the  most  eminent  of  the  physiologists  who  adopt  the  theory  of  a  diversity  of  sensa- 
tions as  local  signs,  himself  asserts  this,  and  expressly  disclaims  holding  that  the  experience 
of  diverse  sensations  originates  the  perception  of  extension  or  of  space.  He  contends  that 
space  must  be  assumed  as  given,  but  that  the  office  of  the  diverse  sensations  is  to  make  defi 
nite  and  familiar  the  relations  of  the  parts  of  the  body  to  space.  In  other  words,  these 
diverse  local  sensations  are  the  conditions  of  distinguishing  relative  position  or  place.  Cf, 
I.  H.  Fichte,  Psychologic,  §  155-163. 

One  or  two  other  theories,  similar  in  their  principle,  and  therefore  refuted  on  similar 
grounds,  might  here  be  noticed,  but  we  reserve  the  consideration  of  them  for  a  more  appro- 
priate place.  These,  and  those  which  we  have  discussed,  are  alike  exposed  to  one  fatal  objeo 
tion — that,  even  on  their  own  showing,  they  can  only  explain  the  perception  of  superficial 
extension.  Extension  in  the  third  dimension,  they  can  in  no  way  provide  or  account  for. 
From  all  these  theories,  which  fail  to  account  for  the  acknowledged  facts  in  our  conscious . 
experience,  we  return  with  greater  confidence  to  our  original  statement,  that  sensations  through 
every  organ  give  perception,  and  in  perception  is  involved  the  cognition  of  an  extended 
object. 

In  the  exercise  of  touch,  the  tactual  and  muscular  and  other 

The     Bensorium  .  .  .  . 

known   as  ex-    more  subjective  sensations,  are  called  into  action.     But  these 

tended.  . . 

all  pertain,  and  are  known  to  pertain,  to  the  soul  as  connect- 
ed with  an  extended  sensorium.  This  sensorium  is  known  to  the  soul  not 
as  a  collection  of  nerve-endings  or  nerve-expansions,  not  as  having  a 
defined  inner  content  and  limiting  surface,  but  as  found  in  various  con- 
ditions of  activity,  involving  the  soul's  own  active  sympathy  of  either 
suffering  or  enjoyment.  All  these  sensations  involve  some  relation  of  ex- 
tension and  place,  very  vague  at  first,  but  sure  to  be  more  positive  and 
definite  as  soon  as  the  soul  fixes  its  attention  upon  each.  These  relations 
comprehend  all  the  dimensions  of  space,  as  truly  as  any.  The  soul,  as  it 
were,  occupies  and  pervades  the  sensorium  as  extended  in  all  directions. 
Its  attention  is  first  fixed  upon  certain  of  the  sensations  that  are  most  posi- 
tive or  energetic,  especially  upon  the  pleasurable  and  painful,  the  muscular 
and  tactual.  Then  the  local  diversities  and  likenesses  are  noticed,  and  the 
relations  of  place  within  and  upon  the  surface  of  the  body  become  fixed. 
Differences  in  direction,  form,  size,  etc.,  are  fixed,  by  processes  which  we 
shall  explain,  under  the  acquired  perceptions.  But  the  condition  of  any 
of  these  processes  is  the  assumption  that  in  the  original  perceptions  of 
touch,  extension,  or  the  extended  sensorium,  and  this  as  extended  in  three 
dimensions,  is  directly  perceived.  But  tangible  objects  are  not  only 
known  as  extended ;  they  are  also  known  as  external.  This  brings  us  to 
our  next  division  : 

8  130.   Externality,  or  outness,  is  involved  in  the  extension 

The    perception      °      .  V         i  •  -r-i 

of  externality  by    which  is  known  by  the  sensations  of   touch.     Jkxternality 

differs  from  simple  diversity,  or  difference.     Diversity  may 

pertain  to  objects  that  are  purely  spiritual,  as  a  series  of  mental  activities 


150  TlIE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  1  30 

But  externality  as  apprehended  in  perception,  as  has  already 


TWO  meanings  of  foeen  explained,  is  the  diversity  or  distinguishability  of  ac 
extended  object  from  the  spirit  as  non-spatial,  and  also  the 
separateness  or  separableness  of  the  material  universe,  or  of  material 
objects  usually  so-called,  from  the  animated  body.  Both  these  relations 
are  apprehended  in  sense-perception,  and  preeminently  by  the  sense  of 
touch.  It  is  not  only  important,  but  essential,  that  these  two  meanings 
be  not  confounded. 

It  is  also  important  to  observe,  that  the  externality  which  we  perceive, 
is,  like  extension,  not  abstract,  but  concrete  externality  ;  or,  in  more 
familiar  terms,  an  external  object,  or  an  object  as  external. 

We  will  consider  the  two  senses  of  externality  in  their  order. 
nifu  First,  we  inquire,  How  does  the  soul,  in  touch,  perceive  its 
own  body  to  be  external  to  itself?  We  answer,  as  in  our 
previous  discussion,  —  precisely  as  it  does  through  the  other  senses,  by  an 
immediate  and  inexplicable  act  of  its  own.  It  perceives  directly  its  own 
body  as  a  non-self  or  a  non-ego  —  originally  its  own  sensorium  excited  to  sen- 
sation. We  raise  this  question  a  second  time  in  connection  with  the  sense 
of  touch,  because  it  has  been  often  urged  that  its  sensations  are  peculiar  in 
revealing  outness,  or  externality. 

Some  —  as  Reid  —  contend  that  the  simple  sense  of  resistance  or  hardness,  or  that  affection 
of  the  sensorium  which  every  solid  body  occasions,  directly  suggests  outness. 

Dr.  Thomas  Brown  teaches  that  all  proper  tactual  sensations,  like  other  sensa- 
tions proper,  are  purely  subjective  and  spiritual,  without  the  suggestions 
eory'  of  externality  and  extension,  and  that  it  is  only  through  the  muscular  sensa- 
tions that  the  knowledge  of  the  non-e^o  is  gained.  '  We  open  the  hand  or  the 
arm,  as  we  have  done  in  a  score  of  previous  instances,  without  striking  against  an  object.  All 
that  we  experience  is  a  succession  of  purely  subjective  affections  —  affections  simply  and  solely 
spiritual.  But  we  strike  against  a  wall,  or  other  resisting  medium,  and  we  ask,  What  has 
caused  this  new  sensation  ?  We  answer,  it  is  not  myself,  for  I  have  previously  had,  or  rather 
produced,  only  a  succession  of  spiritual  states,  in  a  series  of  muscular  sensations.  But  here  is 
a  change.  I  have  a  sensation  uncaused  by  myself,  but  caused  by  a  being  different  from 
myself.  There  exists,  therefore,  a  being  not  myself,  and  so  I  reach  the  non-r^o,  or  externality.' 
To  this  solution  or  explanation  there  is  this  fatal  objection,  that  to  the  suggestion  of  the  non- 
ego  there  is  required  simply  the  experience  of  a  single  new  sensation  out  of  the  accustomed 
order.  To  be  sure,  the  sensation  must  be  very  distinct  and  positive  ;  as  when,  for  example, 
the  hand  is  smartly  struck  against  a  rock.  Bnt  it  is  not  the  character  of  the  sensation  as  more 
or  less  positive  which  gives  the  inference  ;  it  is  because  it  occurs  out  of  the  accustomed  order  ; 
it  is  because,  in  place  of  the  usual  order  of  sensations,  you  have  one  that  is  new,  that  an  exter 
nal  cause  is  required.  This  would  require  that  you  assume  that  the  arm  or  hand  should  in 
every  previous  instance  have  been  opened  or  stretched  in  precisely  the  same  way.  For,  if 
there  had  been  any  diversity  in  the  order  —  if,  by  any  twist  or  jerk,  a  positively  new  sensation 
Lad  been  introduced  without  an  external  object  —  then  an  external  cause  would  have  been 
required,  and  a  non-^o  would  have  been  accepted,  when,  in  Brown's  sense,  there  was  none. 

But  allowing  that  the  order  of  sensations  has  been  previously  the  same,  and  that,  by  the 
resisting  object,  the  order  is  for  the  first  time  changed,  in  what  does  the  change  consist  ? 
Simply  in  the  introduction  of  a  new  subjective  experience.  The  resisting  object  gives  only  a 


§  131.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  151 

novel  sensation,  which  is  still  subjective.  However  unusual  it  may  be,  it  is  only  subjective 
and  psychical,  and,  according  to  Brown's  theory,  can  give  no  relation  of  extension,  and  there- 
fore no  relation  of  externality.  Though,  in  the  way  supposed,  a  cause  other  than  the  agent 
might  be  reached,  it  would  be  purely  spiritual,  and  not  necessarily  spatial. 

All  these,  and  every  other  theory  of  the  sort,  have  one  common  weakness  —  that  they 
require  us,  by  some  arrangement  or  series  or  combination  of  sensations  purely  subjective,  to 
account  for  or  develop  an  objective,  i.  e.,  an  external  non-ego.  But  it  is  obvious  that  it  is  not  the 
greater  or  less  positiveness  of  a  subjective  sensation,  nor  any  change  in  the  order  of  such  sen- 
sations, which  will  elicit  a  non-^o,  if  it  be  not  immediately  discerned  by  the  mind  itself.  Tht 
consideration  of  these  theories  brings  us  back  with  greater  confidence  to  our  original  propo- 
sition, that  the  sense  of  touch  is  like  the  other  senses,  in  that  it  gives  the  non-ego  directly 
perceived,  viz.,  the  sensorium  aroused  to  its  appropriate  sensations. 


Extemaiit  in  wnat!  it  may  be  objected,  when  I  grasp  a  pebble,  or  at 

^catlkm  nd  8igni"  ivorv  ^a^>  or  a  stick,  is  all  that  I  perceive  as  external  to 

myself  simply  the  sensorium  excited  by  the  object  grasped  ? 
Is  this  the  non-ego  which  I  perceive,  and  this  only  ?  We  reply,  that  this  is 
the  only  non-e^o,  which  we  perceive  by  direct  and  original  perception.  But 
do  we  not  perceive  also  the  object  which  produces  these  sensations  ?  Do 
we  not  directly  perceive  the  surface  of  the  pebble,  the  ball,  or  the  stick,  as 
diverse  from  the  sensorium,  and  the  body  which  it  pervades  ?  Not  by 
immediate  perception.  If  we  did,  it  would  involve  the  inference  that  we 
perceive  a  non-ego,  viz.,  the  surface  of  the  pebble  as  touched,  and  pro- 
ducing a  sensation,  viz.,  the  felt  sensation,  which  is  also  a  non-ego.  That 
is,  we  should  have  immediate  perception  of  two  non-egos  —  the  sensorium 
excited,  and  the  object  exciting  it  to  a  sensation.  This  is  possible,  but  it 
must  be  shown  to  be  necessary.  We  prefer  the  theory  that  externality  in 
the  second  sense  —  i.  e.,  the  distinction  of  the  not-body  from  the  body  —  is 
discerned  not  by  an  original,  but  by  an  acquired  perception,  as  will  be 
explained  in  its  place  (§  155).  It  is  the  result,  not  of  a  single  act,  but  of 
a  series  of  processes.  It  is  in  connection  with  the  sense  of  touch,  as  we 
shall  show,  that  these  processes  are  performed  with  especial  advantage, 
and  therefore  it  is  to  the  sense  of  touch  that  the  knowledge  of  outness 
in  the  second  sense  is  preeminently  to  be  referred.  For  these  processes 
the  sensations  of  touch  are  especially  adapted,  because  of  the  energetic 
and  easily  distinguishable  character  of  those  tactual  sensations  of  which 
the  whole  bodily  surface  is  capable,  and  because  of  the  variable  pressure 
and  mobility  which  the  muscles  conditionate. 

8  131.    The  sense  of  touch  is  the  most  positive  of  all  the 

Sense  of  touch,  »        ,          i  „  .  T 

the  leading  senses  in  the  character  of  its  sensations.  In  many  respects 
it  is  worthy  to  be  called  the  leading  sense.  The  sensations 
which  it  gives,  and  those  which  are  called  into  action  in  connection  with 
it,  are  felt  on  every  part  of  the  surface,  and  throughout  the  interior  of  the 
body  and  all  its  members.  The  sensations  themselves  are  the  most  ener- 
gelic  of  any  that  we  experience. 

Moreover,  the  organ  of  every  other  sense  is  also  au  organ  of  touch, 


152  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  132, 

and,  a?  such,  is  more  or  less  sensitive.  We  touch  the  food  which  we  taste, 
and  unless  we  touch  it,  we  cannot  taste  it.  Though  the  eye  does  not  lit- 
erally touch  the  undulating  light — i.  e.,  in  response  to  the  touch  of  light,  it 
gives  no  tactual  sensations — yet,  when  the  surface  of  the  eye  is  pressed  bj 
the  finger,  or  strikes  against  any  solid  object,  it  feels,  and  is  pained.  It  is 
also  acutely  sensitive  at  times  as  a  touching  organ.  The  inner  surfaces  of 
the  nostrils  and  of  the  ear,  like  the  outer  surface  of  the  body,  are  suscep- 
tible of  tactual  sensations.  All  of  these  organs  are  more  or  less  com- 
pletely provided  with  a  muscular  apparatus,  by  which  they  are  moved, 
directed,  accommodated,  and  made  more  attent  for  and  subservient  to 
their  appropriate  sensations.  They  are  all  capable  of  painful  sensations 
from  injury  and  inflammation,  and  from  excessive  or  abnormal  activity. 
The  various  sensations  appropriate  to  the  sense  of  touch  are  experienced 
in  connection  with  those  sensations  which  are  the  appropriate  function  to 
each  separate  organ.  Hence  the  tactual  and  muscular  sensations  are  very 
intimately  connected  with  seeing,  hearing,  smelling,  and  tasting.  In  view 
of  these  considerations,  it  was  said  long  ago,  by  Democritus,  that  '  all  the 
senses  were  modifications  of  the  sense  of  touch.'  The  importance  of  this 
truth  will  be  made  apparent  when  we  consider  the  prominence  of  touch 
*n  the  formation  of  the  acquired  perceptions. 

In  view  of  these  facts,  touch  has  been  called,  by  some  physiologists, 
general  sensibility,  or  the  power  of  general  sensibility  •  and  the  four  re- 
naming senses  have  been  called  the  special  senses.  Cf.  Dalton,  Human 
Physiology,  Phil.,  1866. 

It  ought  not  to  surprise  us  to  learn,  that  the  sense  of 
Furnishes  Intel-  touch  furnishes  most  of  the  terms  for  the  intellectual  acts 

Actual  terms. 

and  states.  Sight  itself  is  indebted  to  touch  for  many  of  its 
terms.  We  take  or  apprehend  a  meaning  ;  we  hold  an  opinion  ;  we  com- 
prehend or  grasp  a  train  of  thought  or  a  course  of  reasoning ;  we  accept 
a  proposition.  Especially  does  touch  furnish  the  words  for  those  acts  of 
*;he  intellect  in  which  the  feelings  and  the  will  have  a  share.  The  reason 
*s  obvious.  We  touch  and  handle  objects  in  order  familiarly  to  under- 
hand their  properties  and  laws.  What  objects  we  touch,  and  how  we 
'.ouch  or  handle  them,  is  determined  very  largely  by  our  feelings,  whether 
of  curiosity  or  indifference,  of  love  or  dislike,  of  caution  or  boldness.  All 
these  feelings  are  expressed  through  acts  appropriate  to  the  sense  of 
touch,  or  by  the  modes  of  using  its  principal  organs.  Hence  the  spiritual 
acts  or  states  generally  are  expressed  by  terms  and  phrases  primarily 
applied  to  this  class  of  bodily  activities. 

§  132.  The  sense  of  sight  is  the  last  which  we  are  to  con- 
eight;  its  organ,  sider.  The  organ  of  vision  is  the  eye.  The  eye  is  a  struc 

ture  made  like  an  optical  instrument,  and  adapted  to  the  re- 
fraction of  light  by  a  combination  of  lenses,  and  to  the  production,  by  this 
means,  of  a  distinct  miniature  image  of  the  object  seen  upon  the  retina 


$  132.  CLASSES    OF   SENSE-PEBCEPTIONS.  153 

or  the  dark  network  of  nerves  which  lines  the  inner  chamber.  Thu 
image  can  be  seen  in  the  eye  of  some  animals  if  separated  carefully  front 
its  socket,  and  divested  of  the  sclerotic  coating  behind.  The  surface  of 
the  eye  is  small  compared  with  that  of  the  organ  of  touch,  but  it  is  sus« 
ceptible  of  the  readiest  and  most  rapid  motions,  and  of  adjustments  of 
position  and  direction,  with  little  muscular  effort,  with  just  as  little  mus- 
cular sensation  as  is  required  for  the  discrimination  and  regulation  of  ita 
motions.  This  susceptibility  of  easy  and  swift  motion  and  adjustment  is 
one  of  its  most  remarkable  physical  features,  and  is  the  condition  of  its 
marvellous  superiority. 

The  conditions  of  distinct  vision  are  a  proper  quantity  of 
o?visionnditions  ^&n*»  an<^  tne  f°rmation  of  a  well-refracted  image  upon  the 

retina.  If  the  light  is  deficient  or  excessive  in  quantity  or 
intensity,  there  can  be  no  distinct  vision.  There  is  a  particular  distance 
for  every  eye,  at-  which  the  most  perfect  vision  of  a  near  object  can  be 
attained.  This  distance  varies  considerably,  from  that  of  the  so-called 
near-sighted,  to  that  of  the  far-sighted.  This  variety  of  the  distances 
required  is  found  to  be  occasioned  by  a  difference  in  the  degree  of  the 
convexity  in  the  lenses  of  the  eyes  of  different  persons,  requiring  a  differ- 
ent focal  distance  for  the  object.  The  inability  to  see  distinctly  at  a  cer- 
tain distance  may  be  overcome,  or  in  part  remedied,  by  a  constrained 
adjustment  of  the  retina  and  one  or  both  lenses,  through  certain  muscles 
provided  for  the  purpose.  The  muscular  sensations  experienced  by  the 
adjustment  of  the  eye  in  the  effort  to  discern  objects  not  seen  distinctly, 
are  important  media  in  forming  and  applying  the  acquired  perceptions.  In 
order  that  the  vision  by  both  eyes  may  be  single — and  it  must  be  single  to 
be  distinct — the  two  axes  must  be  steadily  fixed  upon  the  same  point ;  and 
in  order  that  they  may  be  fixed,  they  must  be  inclined  together.  The 
muscular  sensations,  varying  with  the  different  adjustments  of  the  two 
axes  are  important  hi  the  acquired  perceptions  or  judgments  of  vision. 

These  conditions  are  completed  or  furnished  when  a  distinct  picture  on  the 
Function  of  the  retina  is  formed.  This  leads  us  to  consider  the  function  of  the  image  on  the 
retina  °U  ^  vetma.^  or  its  relations  to  the  act  and  the  objects  of  vision.  Concerning  this 

there  is  confusion  and  error  of  opinion.  The  mind  does  not  see  the  image  on 
the  retina.  If  it  did,  it  must  do  this  by  nieans  of  another  image,  and  so  on  ad,  infinitum. 
Nor  does  it  perceive  the  image  by  a  psychical  act,  knowing  it  to  be  an  image  oil  the  retina. 
It  does  not  know  that  there  is  a  retina,  till  the  anatomist  or  the  optician  brings  the  fact  to 
notice.  Nor  does  it  know  of  nerves,  or  nervous  endings,  or  nervous  expansions,  iu  the  act  of 
seeing.  Nor  can  it  be  aware,  in  any  other  way,  of  the  image  as  an  image.  That  its  formation 
is  essential  to  the  act  of  vision,  we  know  by  physiological  researches,  but  not  in  psychical 
experience.  Physiologically,  we  know  that  the  one  is  necessary  to  the  other.  Psychically,  we 
are  not  only  not  conscious  of  using  it  as  a  known  means  of  the  act  of  seeing,  but  we  are  con- 
scious that  we  do  not  employ  it  as  such  an  aid  or  means.  If  this  were  kept  in  mind,  serious 
difficulties  in  the  explanation  of  the  process  of  vision  would  be  set  aside.  For  example,  it  has 
often  asked,  How  can  we  see  objects  upright,  of  which  the  images  on  the  retina  are 


154  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  133 

inverted  ?    How  can  we  see  objects  as  single,  whose  images  are  double  ?    The  answer  to  ques- 
tions like  these,  and  the  difficulties  which  they  involve,  is,  that  the  mind  does  not  use  the 
**nage  as  a  medium  in  the  psychical  act.     It  starts  with  it  as  given,  setting  off  from  the  image 
s  the  last  member  or  link  in  the  series  of  physical  conditions. 

The  act  of  vision  as  a  sense-perception  includes  two  elements,  the 
sensational  and  the  perceptional. 

The  sensations  proper  from  light  and  colors  are  scarcely 
sensations  prop-  marked  in  our  conscious  experience  as  pleasurable  or  painful. 

Hence  they  are  feebly  obtrusive.  They  rarely  if  ever  attiact 
the  attention  except  when  painful  through  disease  in  the  eye  or  an 
excess  of  energy  which  induces  abnormal  action.  In  such  cases  we  may 
say  that  it  is  not  the  proper  sensations  of  sight  which  give  pain,  but  the 
organic  sensations  arising  from  irregular  physical  stimuli.  Some  colors, 
however,  seem  to  give  a  positive  sensuous  pleasure,  as  rich  violet  or  pur- 
Die  ;  and  a  series  of  such  colors,  finely  blended,  occasions  extreme  satisiao 
tion.  But  even  in  these  cases  the  pleasure,  so  far  as  it  is  sensuous,  seem* 
to  follow  an  exciting  or  soothing  stimulus  to  the  nervous  system,  rather 
than  to  arise  from  a  positive  and  distinctively  grateful  sensation.  So  far 
as  it  is  esthetic,  it  is  not  sensuous  at  all.  The  pleasure  from  form  and  out- 
line, as  distinguished  from  color,  is  still  less  sensuous.  These  facts  explain 
why  it  is  that  the  sensations  of  vision  are  less  definitely  located  in  the  sen- 
sorium,  and  why,  when  the  eye  is  known  as  their  agent,  the  percepts  are  so 
readily  detached  from  the  eye  and  projected  before  it.  The  equally  unob- 
trusive and  feebly  positive  character  of  the  muscular  sensations  which  are 
experienced  in  using  the  eye  contributes  to  the  same  result. 

8  133.  What  is  the  object  perceived?     The  objects  of  vision 

Perception  prop-  ...  J 

er  in  vision.  The  are  illuminated,  shaded,  and  colored  visibilia.  When  we 
call  them  objects,  we  do  not  intend  that  they  are  objects  in 
the  sense  that  they  can  be  felt  or  handled,  but  that  they  are  illuminated 
and  colored  percepts,  set  over  against  the  soul  by  itself,  and  distinguished 
from  itself  by  its  own  act  of  perception.  The  spectrum,  as  of  a  color 
refracted  by  the  prism,  or  of  a  flame  collected  on  a  screen,  is  a  real  object 
of  vision.  So  is  the  image  that  seems  to  lurk  behind  a  mirror,  or  to  lie  in 
the  depth  of  a  glassy  pool.  The  colored  network  that  is  projected  before 
the  closed  vision  is  an  object.  In  short,  whatever  the  eye  beholds  is  a 
visible  percept.  Moreover,  what  the  eye  perceives,  and  as  the  eye  per- 
ceives it,  is  the  sole  object  that  is  visible.  This  percept  is  always  colored. 
When  we  say  it  is  colored,  we  include,  under  color,  light  and  shade. 
Darkness,  even,  is  discerned  by  the  eye  only  as  the  intensest  and  gravest 
of  positive  colors.  When  light  and  color  are  declared  to  be  the  appro- 
priate objects  of  vision,  no  opinion  is  advanced  respecting  the  nature  of 
light  or  color  as  a  physical  agent  or  material.  It  is  not  the  physical  light 
or  color,  but  the  physiological  resultant  of  this  as  it  aces  npon  or  with  the 
sensorium,  which  we  see ;  and  this  is  all  which  we  see. 


§  133.  CLASSES    OF    SENSE-PEKCEPTIONS.  155 

This  object  is  always  extended.  The  colored  percept  is  an 
tendedW3ys  e*~  extended  object,  and  it  cannot  be  apprehended  as  colored 

without  being  perceived  as  extended  also.  Brown  (Lectures, 
28,  9)  insists  most  earnestly  that  the  sensation  of  color  is  not  originally 
experienced  in  connection  with  extension,  and  that  we  connect  the  tvio 
only  because  and  by  means  of  an  oft-experienced  and  inveterate  association 
Dugald  Stewart  (Elements)  sanctions  this  view.  James  Mill,  and  all  the 
associationalists,  must  of  necessity  adopt  this  solution.  The  following 
suppositions  refute  the  doctrine :  If  two  or  more  bands  of  color  were 
present  to  the  infant  which  had  never  exercised  touch,  it  must  see  them 
both  at  once  ;  and,  if  it  sees  them  both,  it  must  see  them  as  expanded  or 
extended ;  otherwise  it  could  not  see  them  at  all,  nor  the  line  of  transition 
or  separation  between  them.  Or  it*  a  disc  of  red  were  presented  in  the 
midst  of,  and  surrounded  by,  a  tield  of  yellow  or  blue,  or  if  a  bright  band 
of  red  were  painted  so  as  to  return  as  a  circle  upon  itself,  on  a  field  of 
black,  the  band  could  not  be  traced  by  the  eye  without  requiring  that  the 
eye  should  contemplate  as  an  extended  percept  the  included  surface  or  disc 
of  red. 

This  view  of  Brown,  Stewart,  and  others,  in  respect  to  color,  is  only  a  special  application 
of  their  theory  of  the  sensations  which  we  have  already  considered,  §  113.  Its  untruth  is 
made  signal  and  striking  by  the  extreme  consequences  to  which  it  leads  in  the  case  of  color. 
Our  own  view,  supported  by  conscious  experience,  is,  that  every  act  of  perception  involves  an 
extended  object. 

The  obiect  of  vision  is,  however,  an  extended  superficies 

Visible      exten-  i         .  .  .  T      .        ,  ,   ,. 

eion  superficial  only.  J3y  vision  only,  a  sphere  is  perceived  simply  as  a  deli- 
cately-shaded circular  disc.  A  cube  is  a  flat  surface  with 
abruptly-shaded  portions,  bounded  by  converging  lines.  If  we  draw  or 
paint  from  Nature,  we  do  it  on  a  surface  perfectly  flat  or  even.  In  order 
to  do  this  with  truth,  we  must  first  see  the  object,  as  without  obtruding  or 
receding  portions.  We  must  see  every  object  as  we  should  see  it  if  we 
had  no  sense  except  original  or  direct  vision.  We  must  copy  such  as 
they  appear  to  or  are  seen  by  the  eye  alone,  and  divest  and  clear  them 
of  all  those  properties  which  the  mind  supplies  or  adds  to  the  object  as 
simply  seen.  Indeed,  in  some  visible  objects  certain  of  these  original 
aspects  are  apparent  and  obtrusive.  We  cannot,  with  the  utmost  effort, 
see  some  objects  as  they  are.  When,  for  example,  we  stand  at  the  end 
of  a  long  street,  the  lines  of  houses,  or  of  trees,  or  posts,  approach  oi.e 
another  till  they  nearly  meet  in  a  point.  But  they  do  not  converge  in 
fact ;  they  are  exactly  parallel. 

"  The  perception  of  solid  form  s  entirely  a  matter  of  experience.  We  see  nothing  but  flat  colors ;  and 
it  is  only  by  a  series  of  experiments  that  we  find  out  that  a  stain  of  black  or  gray  indicates  th«  dark  side 
ot  a  solid 'substance,  or  that  a  faitit  hue  indicates  that  the  object  in  which  it  appears  is  far  away.  The 
whole  technical  power  of  painting  lepends  on  our  recovery  of  what  may  be  called  the  innocence,  of  the  eye; 
that  b>  to  say,  of  a  sort  of  a  childish  perception  of  these  flat  stains  of  color  merely  as  sncb,  without  con- 
sciousness cfwhat  they  signify,  as  a  blind  man  would  see  them  if  suddenly  gifted  Tith  sight."-  Johi 
Buskin,  Ele^^nts  of  Drawing,  pp.  5  and  6.  London,  1857. 


156  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  134 

It  has  been  insisted  by  some  that  the  eye  perceives  more  than  superficial 
Contrary  view,  extension — that  we  discern  by  vision,  depth,  or  the  third  dimension ;  that 
The  stereoscope.  tne  eve^  ag  jt  wer6)  gees  around  a  sphere,  or  along  the  receding  sides  of  a 

cube.  An  appeal  is  confidently  made  to  Wheatstone's  discoveries  in  respect 
to  binocular  vision,  and  the  application  of  the  same  in  the  stereoscope.  Wheatstone,  as  ia 
well  known,  discovered  that  every  object,  as  a  statue,  a  cube,  or  a  house,  when  seen  by  the 
right  eye  only,  presents  more  of  the  receding  surface  toward  the  right  than  when  the  same  ob 
ject  is  perceived  by  the  left  eye.  The  converse  is  true  of  similar  portions  of  such  objects  wher 
seen  by  the  left  eye  alone.  He  caused  these  two  views  of  objects  as  seen  by  each  eye  singly 
to  be  drawn  and  shaded  exactly  as  they  are  perceived.  He  then  presented  each  to  its  eye  m 
the  same  plane  and  at  such  a  distance  that  the  converging  axis  of  each  eye  should  be  easily 
directed  to  its  appropriate  object.  He  found,  as  the  result,  that  the  two  objects  were  seen  as 
one.  For  an  instant  the  two  seem  to  distract  the  vision,  that  vacillates  between  two  objects 
and  one.  But  as  soon  as  the  axes  are  steadied,  and  the  converging  gaze  is  fixed,  they  blend 
into  one,  and  start  forth  from  the  background  into  the  relief  of  a  projecting  figure.  From 
this  phenomenon  it  is  argued,  that,  by  the  application  of  both  eyes  in  vision,  we  perceive  the 
third  dimension — i.  e.,  we  see  the  receding  surfaces  of  objects  as  receding,  and  not  as  on  a 
plane.  The  conclusion  very  far  outruns  the  data  from  which  it  is  derived.  The  objects  seen 
through  the  stereoscope  are  not  in  relief,  but  are  in  a  superficies  or  plane.  No  third  dimen- 
sion exists,  but  the  usual  signs  of  its  presence  are  so  striking,  that  the  mind  leaps  for  th« 
instant  to  the  conclusion  that  they  in  fact  exist.  The  experiment  of  the  stereoscope  is  so  far 
trom  confirming  the  view  that  the  third  dimension  is  actually  seen,  that  it  shows  most  deci- 
•jively  that  it  cannot  be,  by  effecting  an  illusion  which  is  well-nigh  perfect,  even  though  the 
object  is  drawn  and  actually  seen  upon  a  plane. 

§  134.  The  question  has  been  very  frequently  and  very 
ieeninwith°  two  earnestly  discussed,  '  How  is  it  possible  that  the  mind  should 

apprehend  but  a  single  object  by  means  of  two  eyes  ? '  The 
question  has  been  variously  answered  by  physiologists.  Some  have  in- 
sisted that  one  eye  only  is  in  fact  used  in  the  act  of  vision,  the  office  of  the 
second  being  to  strengthen  or  reinforce  the  nervous  or  physiological  action 
of  the  first.  Others  teach  that  the  mind  beholds  two  objects  in  fact,  but 
passes  so  readily  from  the  one  to  the  other,  as  in  effect  to  apprehend  only 
one.  Others  have  sought  to  solve  the  problem  by  tracing  the  impressions 
made  upon  the  corresponding  parts  of  each  retina,  through  the  correspond- 
ing nerves  of  each,  to  a  common  blending  or  meeting-place  in  the  organ- 
ism, where  the  two  are  fused  into  one.  So  far  as  these  facts  are  purely 
physiological,  if  they  are  to  throw  any  light  on  the  psychical  act  or  object, 
they  must  assume  that  t/ie  mind  performs  'the  act  by  a  conscious  recog- 
nition of  the  retina,  or  the  nervous  apparatus,  which  is  not  true. 

The  psychical  act  is  occupied  with  a  psychical  object,  which,  as  has  been  explained,  is 
colored  extension.  It  sometimes  happens  that,  in  consequence  of  a  diseased  or  abnormal  con- 
dition of  the  eye  or  its  nervous  apparatus,  the  mind  perceives  two  objects,  when  it  ought  to  per- 
ceive but  one.  How  is  this  to  be  explained,  and  what  light  does  the  fact  shed  upon  the  rela- 
tion of  vision  with  one  eye,  to  vision  with  two  ?  We  answer :  In  double  vision  the  mind 
beholds  two  similar  objects  in  two  directions.  Direction  is  a  psychical  element  or  relation  of 
that  extension  and  space  which  we  assume  to  be  a  priori  and  necessary  to  sense-perception. 
That  this  happens  by  reason  of  a  physiological  derangement,  we  know ;  but  how  or  why  this 
should  occasion  this  psychical  result,  iannot  be  explained,  for  the  reasons  already  given.  The 


136.  CLASSES    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  15  / 


only  plausible  attempt  at  analysis  is  the  following  :  '  In  single  vision  two  percepts  are  perceived 
in  the  same  part  of  the  field  of  view.  They  must  necessarily  coincide.  If  the  one  overlaps 
the  other,  the  one  must  obscure  or  strengthen  the  other.'  The  case  is  not  supposable,  from  the 
nature  of  the  percept.  Usually,  the  object  seen  by  one  eye,  as  it  were,  predominates  and 
directs  the  knowing  ego  to  construct  both  as  one,  through  its  interest  in  the  interpretation  of  what 
the  percept  represents,  rather  than  in  the  percept  itself.  The  possibility  of  such  an  interpreter- 
don  by  the  Intellect  will  be  better  understood  when  we  consider  the  acquired  perceptions. 


ori  *na]  lace  of  §  *^*  ^e  °iuesti011  also  suggests  itself,  Where,  in  relation 
the^  visible  per-  to  the  retina  or  the  eye,  is  it  that  the  visible  object  [i.  e.,  the 
variously-colored  plane  or  disc  first  apprehended]  is  placed  in 
the  original  act  of  vision  :  is  it  in  the  retina  itself,  or  in  the  front  of  the 
eye  ?  or  is  it  projected  in  space  —  say  at  the  proper  focal  distance  before 
the  eye  ?  The  question,  in  all  its  forms,  supposes  greater  or  a  more  ma- 
tured knowledge  of  space,  distance,  and  position  than  the  mind  can  pos- 
sess when  it  begins  to  see.  The  act  of  vision  alone  —  i.  e.,  as  excited  with- 
out the  aid  of  touch  —  does  not  at  once  distinguish  these  relations,  or 
direct  the  attention  to  the  sensations  which  involve  their  recognition. 
The  muscles  of  the  eye  play  too  easily,  and  the  attendant  sensations  are 
too  indefinite  and  indifferent,  to  allow  us  to  suppose  that  the  mind  derives 
through  them  so  distinct  apprehensions  of  the  optical  sensorium  as  to 
separate  from  it  the  exciting  object,  even  if  we  should  allow  that,  by  vis- 
ion alone,  it  could  gain  any  perception  of  the  third  dimension  —  i.  e.,  of 
distance.  We  shall  see  that  it  is  by  touch  that  we  first  gain  definite  and 
measured  perceptions  of  this  third  dimension.  Touch  also,  by  its  more 
positive  and  obtrusive  muscular  and  tactual  sensations,  calls  attention  to 
the  space  discriminations  which  these  sensations  involve.  There  can  be 
no  doubt  that  in  the  order  of  development,  so  far  as  space  relations  are 
concerned,  the  eye  first  follows  the  hand,  and  afterward  leads  it. 

Position,  or  place,  as  applied  to  perceived  objects,  is  relative.  It  supposes  some  objects 
to  be  fixed  as  starting-points,  and  others  as  standards  of  measuring  or  estimating  distance  from 
them.  None  such  can  be  definitely  fixed  and  familiar  before  the  not-body  is  distinguished  from 
the  body,  and  before  the  hand,  the  eye,  and  the  parts  of  the  external  body  have  been  fixed  in 
their  relative  positions.  The  vague  knowledge  of  extended  matter  which  the  sensorium  give* 
must  first  be  made  definite  by  a  bounding  outline  ;  and  the  most  familiar  extra-organic  object* 
must  first  be  placed  apart  from  one  another,  before  the  eye  or  the  retina  can  be  known  as  th« 
instrument  of  vision,  or  either  can  be  distinguished  as  the  place  or  the  seat  of  the  sense-per- 
cept. Long  before  these  cognitions  are  attained,  the  sense-percept  seen  by  the  eye  will  have 
been  carried  by  the  hand  into  the  space  without  the  body,  and  irrecoverably  connected  with  \*o 
rorrespondent  touch-percepts,  in  the  way  hereafter  to  be  described  (§§  157-9). 

§  136.  The  superiority  of  the  eye  to  the  other  senses  is 
Dignity  of  the  owing  in  part  to  the  unobtrusive  delicacy  of  its  sensations. 

They  do  not  occupy  the  attention  and  detain  it  from  the 
>bject  itself  and  its  relations.  The  force  and  tension  of  the  soul's  activity 
are  given  to  these.  Vision  is  capable  of  far  finer  discriminations  thai! 
touch.  A  hair  of  the  diameter  of  .002  of  an  inch  can  be  distinctly  seen. 


158  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §137 

The  eye  can  also  pass  from  one  object  to  another  with  a  swiftness  which 
none  of  the  other  organs  can  imitate.  In  so  doing,  it  can  place  data  at 
the  service  of  the  intellect  as  quickly  as  the  intellect  can  use  them,  how< 
ever  rapid  may  be  its  movements.  By  its  swift  and  wide-reaching  mo- 
tions it  can  imitate  the  slower  and  limited  motions  of  the  hand,  drawing 
outlines,  constructing  figures,  measuring  distances,  combining  groups  and 
elements,  with  surprising  rapidity  and  truth.  The  cultivated  eye  sweeps 
across  a  landscape,  and  in  an  instant  the  mind  computes  the  size  and  dis- 
tance of  its  principal  objects,  and  unites  them  together  within  a  frame- 
work of  mathematical  relations.  The  minuteness  of  the  observed  distinc- 
tions, the  vividness  of  the  contrasts,  the  cheerfulness  of  the  colors,  the 
stimulus  of  the  light,  the  sharpness  of  the  outlines,  enable  the  mind  to 
hold  fast  its  perceptions,  to  recall  them  vividly  and  at  will,  and  to  employ 
them  for  science,  art,  or  practical  life.  The  eye  has  always  ranked  as  the 
noblest  of  the  senses ;  and  many  of  the  words  which  describe  the  actions 
of  the  pure  intellect,  as  to  see,  to  perceive,  to  discern,  are  taken  apparently 
from  this  sense,  though  perhaps  all  are  finally  to  be  traced  to  the  sense  of 
touch. 


.     CHAPTER  V. 

THE   ACQUIRED   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS. 

THUS  far  in  our  inquiries  we  have  considered  each  of  the  senses  singly.  We  have  seen  that 
by  each  of  these  we  gain  peculiar  knowledge.  We  perceive  sights  only  by  the  eye,  and 
sounds  only  by  the  ear.  In  connection  with  these  diverse  objects,  we  apprehend  certain 
relations  common  to  all,  viz.,  externality  and  extension.  In  other  words,  by  each  of  the 
organs  we  experience  a  determinate  sensation,  and  apprehend  an  object  that  is  both  ex- 
tended, and  also  distinguishable  from  the  sentient  and  perceiving  mind.  The  relations 
under  which  these  objects  are  known,  are  apprehended  more  distinctly  through  some 
of  the  senses  than  through  others. 

8  137.   But  the  range  of  our  sense-perceptions  is  far  wider 

Sense-p  e  r  c  e  p  -      "  t  °  . 

Mons,  original  than  this.  We  early  learn  to  use  one  sense  in  place  of 
another,  or  of  several,  and  to  apply  the  knowledge  which  is 
given  by  one,  in  place  of  that  which  belongs  to  one  or  more  of  those  which 
are  unused.  Thus,  if  I  go  into  a  darkened  room  and  perceive  a  peculiar 
fragrance,  I  know  and  say  there  is  a  rose  or  a  tuberose,  in  the  apart- 
ment— though  I  can  see  or  handle  neither.  By  means  of  the  odor,  I  am 
directed  to  the  place  where  the  flower  is  placed,  till  I  grasp  it  with  my 
hand.  If  I  hear  a  sound,  I  know  it  is  from  a  piano,  a  guitar,  or  the 
human  voice,  and  I  know  the  direction  from  which  it  comes,  and  from 
how  great  a  distance.  If  I  look  at  an  iron  that  is  at  glowing  white  heat. 
I  say,  It  looks  hot — though  heat  is  properly  felt.  So  I  look  at  a  surface 


§138.  THE    ACQFIKED   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS-.  159 

of  fine  velvet,  and  say,  How  soft  and  smooth  it  looks ;  or  at  a  rough  and 
prickly  brush,  and,  as  I  gaze  at  it,  I  almost  feel  its  harshness  in  my  creep- 
ing flesh. 

The  two  classes  of  sense-perceptions  thus  characterized  are  the  origi* 
nal  and  the  acquired.  They  are  thus  defined :  An  original  perception  is 
Dne  that  is  performed  by  a  single  sense,  when  exercised  alone.  Whatever 
the  mind  knows  in  this  way,  either  of  an  object  or  of  its  relations,  is  known 
directly  and  by  an  original  endowment  of  man.  Tt  is  a  pure  work  or 
operation  of  nature,  and  cannot  be  traced  to  art.  An  acquired  perception 
is  one  which  we  gain  by  experience  or  exercise.  We  use  the  knowledge 
given  directly  by  one  sense,  as  the  sign  or  evidence  of  the  knowledge 
which  we  might,  but  do  not,  in  this  particular  case,  gain  by  another, 
im  ortance  of  §  ^®*  ^e  ^poiftance  of  the  acquired  perceptions  is  mani- 
S?d?he1wfSbped  ^es*  ^rom  *ne  greater  frequency  with  which  we  bring  them 
perceptions.  jnto  use,  and  the  confidence  with  which  we  rely  on  them, 
as  well  as  from  their  greater  convenience.  Indeed,  they  very  often 
enable  us  to  gain  information  we  could  not  easily  obtain  without  them, 
and  often  not  at  all  by  a  direct  use  of  the  appropriate  sense.  Thus,  a  man 
strikes  with  a  hammer  upon  the  head  of  a  barrel,  and  knows  in  an  instant 
whether  it  is  full  or  empty,  without  the  trouble  of  opening  it.  A  surgeon 
applies  his  ear  to  the  breast  of  his  patient,  and  determines  whether  the 
lungs  or  heart  are  diseased,  where,  and  how  far.  An  architect,  by  a 
glance  of  the  eye,  sees  whether  the  framing  of  a  bridge  or  roof  is  safe ; 
or  he  measures  off  the  dimensions  of  its  parts  by  the  eye  as  accurately  as 
he  could  by  his  hand,  or  an  instrument. 

The  time  when,  many  of  the  acquired  perceptions  are  gained,  is  very 
early.  The  most  important,  and  those  which  are  universally  applied,  are 
oiade  in  infancy,  at  a  period  earlier  than  the  memory  can  recall,  and  by 
processes  which  the  memory  cannot  untwine,  nor  any  subtle  analysis  easily 
resolve.  Others,  which  are  commenced  in  infancy,  are  perfected  in  youth 
and  early  manhood.  Many  are  not  complete  till  the  senses,  through  age, 
begin  to  fail,  and  the  attention  becomes  less  energetic  and  agile.  We 
begin  the  education  of  the  senses  in  the  earliest  moments  of  infancy.  The 
artist,  the  mechanic,  the  musician,  and  the  observer  of  nature,  never 
finish  it,  till  the  organs  refuse  to  aid  and  to  serve  the  observing  mind. 

Many  of  these  acquisitions  are  made  so  early,  that  they  cannot  be  distinguished  from  the 
original  teachings  of  Nature.  In  very  many,  the  process  is  performed  so  rapidly  that  it  is 
difficult  for  us  to  believe  that  the  mind  goes  through  any  process  at  all,  the  knowledge  cornea 
BO  simply  and  directly.  Hence,  the  analysis  of  these  subtle  movements  and  their  products  is  so 
exciting  and  instructive.  To  l  untwist  the  secret  chains '  which  were  wrought  so  nicely  before 
we  can  remember,  and  by  arts  which  we  seek  to  imagine  but  cannot  recall,  fascinates  us  by 
the  mystery  of  the  problem,  and  challenges  the  utmost  of  our  skill. 

It  is  better  that  we  begin  with  those  which  have  been  made  within  our  memory,  of  which 
the  stages  and  the  means  are  within  our  view  and  at  our  command.  We  may  afterward  ven- 
ture to  unravel  the  more  delicate  tissues  that  have  been  wrought  by  the  finer  and  more  dexter 


160  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  1?^ 

oijs  arts  of  infancy,  in  that  early  yet  mysterious  period  when  Heaven  lies  close  about  us,  a^d 
seems  to  direct  the  movements  of  the  soul. 

In  explaining  these  later  operations,  we  must  suppose  the  process  of  sense-percej  ition  tfl 
be  so  far  complete  as  to  have  given  us  distinct  objects  —  material  things,  as  we  call  them  — 
made  up  of  the  varied  percepts  appropriate  to  each  of  the  senses  ;  fixed  or  movable  in  space, 
possessed  of  varied  qualities,  as  relations  to  space,  and  to  one  another  and  the  percipient 
mind.  But  we  may  be  allowed  thus  to  anticipate  the  results  of  later  inquiries,  for  the  great 
advantage  which  it  will  give  us  in  interpreting  the  unknown  and  the  unfamiliar  by  the  familiar 
and  the  known. 


The  ac  uired  §  *^'  ^e  ac<luire^  perceptions  of  smell  and  of  hearing 
perceptions  of  invite  our  first  attention,  because  they  can  be  most  readily 

explained.  Our  first  examples  are  of  odors.  We  experi 
ence  the  sensations  of  smell,  as  from  a  lily  or  tuberose,  from  camphor  or 
musk.  We  ascribe  them  to  certain  objects  of  given  appearance  and  struc- 
ture, without  the  use  of  the  sight  or  the  touch  by  which  the  appearance 
or  structure  is  directly  discerned.  The  ground  of  this  confident  knowl- 
edge is  experience.  There  is  no  reason  d  priori,  why  the  fragrance  of  the 
tuberose  should  not  proceed  from  the  lily,  and  the  fragrance  of  the  lily 
from  the  tuberose  ;  no  known  cause  why  camphor  and  musk  should  not 
interchange  their  odors.  We  have  simply  learned  by  experience,  that  in 
all  cases  where  the  sensation  is  experienced,  a  certain  object  is  present. 
This  experience  has  ripened  into  a  conviction  so  firm,  that  we  connect  the 
one  with  the  other  without  hesitation,  and  act  upon  our  belief  without 
reflection. 

We  do  the  same  with  sounds.    We  hear  a  sound,  and  believe 

The       acquired  .^ 

perceptions  of  that  it  comes  from  a  bell.  We  hear  another,  and  know  it  is 
from  a  drum  ;  another  still,  and  say,  There  goes  a  cart,  or  a 
coach.  We  stand  upon  a  height  ;  we  make  the  ear  attent,  and  listen  for 
distant  sounds  :  one  is  of  the  crowing  cock,  another  of  the  axe  of  the 
woodman,  another  of  a  rifle-shot,  another  of  a  moving  railway  train, 
another  of  the  cry  of  distress.  Each  of  these  sounds  we  ascribe  to  it? 
appropriate  object  with  positive  certainty,  on  the  ground  of  simple  expe- 
rience. 

We  not  only  learn  in  this  way  the  objects  which  occasion  smells  and  sounds,  but  we  learn 
the  place  and  direction  of  both.  In  a  darkened  room,  or  in  a  strange  garden  by  night,  we  can 
tell  whether  the  lily  or  the  tuberose  is  near  or  far,  and  in  what  direction  ;  whether  we  are  near 
to,  or  remote  from  a  bed  of  violets  or  of  roses.  This  is  especially  true  of  sounds.  We  know 
whether  a  ringing  bell  is  on  our  right,  or  on  our  left  ;  whether  it  is  high,  or  low  ;  whether  a 
military  band  is  far,  or  near  ;  whether  it  approaches,  or  recedes.  That  knowledge  of  this  kind 
is  founded  on  experience  only,  is  obvious  from  the  fact,  that  when  the  usual  or  the  assume-i 
conditions  or  occasions  of  our  knowledge  are  changed,  we  are  mistaken  in  respect  to  the  place, 
direction,  and  distance  of  a  sound,  and  that  mistakes  in  respect  to  these  lead  to  error  in  regard 
to  the  object  which  occasions  it.  The  beating  of  our  own  hearts  may  be  mistaken  for  a  knock- 
ing at  the  door  ;  the  trampling  of  horses  in  a  neighboring  stable,  and  the  cutting  of  wood  in  a 
neighboring  cellar,  may  be  thought  to  be  within  our  own  dwelling.  The  rattling  of  a  car!  ca 
a  bridge  may  be  mistaken  for  distant  thunder  ;  the  humming  of  a  mosquito,  for  a  dktant  .?rj 


§140.  THE    ACQUIRED   SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  161 

of  alarm,  or  the  sound  of  a  trumpet.     In  such  cases  the  sound  must  first  be  removed  by  oui 
mistaken  judgment  to  a  great  distance,  in  order  that  it  may  be  ascribed  to  a  false  occasion. 

We  apply  smells  and  sounds  to  a  still  wider  range  of  objects.  By  smell,  we  determine 
the  taste  of  articles  of  food,  the  presence  of  poison,  or  of  potent  medical  or  chemical  ingie- 
dieats,  the  constitution  of  an  ore  or  an  earth.  By  sound,  we  judge  of  the  quantity  or  quality 
of  the  metal  in  a  sonorous  body,  of  the  density  of  a  wood,  of  the  kind  of  stone,  and  the  genu- 
ineness  of  a  coin. 


Acquired  per-  §  14°*  ^ne  a^quired  perceptions  of  sight  are  still  more  nu- 
B?Rht°MDistance  merous  and  interesting.  These  divide  themselves  into  sev- 
judged  by  size.  erai  classes.  The  first  of  these  are  the  judgments'  of  dis- 
tance by  size.  If  we  know  the  real  magnitude  of  an  object,  we  judge 
how  far  distant  it  is  by  means  of  its  apparent  magnitude.  If  we  hold 
any  familiar  object,  as  a  globe  two  feet  in  diameter,  near  the  eye,  and 
then  remove  it  slowly,  it  will  dwindle  away  first  to  an  inconsiderable  ball, 
and  then  to  a  mere  speck.  If  we  know  its  real  size,  by  its  apparent  mag- 
nitude we  judge  how  far  it  is  actually  removed.  So  true  is  this,  that 
from  a  magnitude  that  is  falsely  assumed,  we  mistake  as  to  the  real  dis- 
tance, and  are  as  confident  and  as  prompt  in  our  mistaken  perception  as 
though  the  data  and  the  inference  were  both  correct. 

Let  a  person  look  over  the  coping  of  a  wall,  or  the  ridge  of  an  intervening  building,  and 
see  only  the  spire  of  a  miniature  church  —  say  of  a  bird-house  —  and  believe  it  to  be  attached 
to  a  real  church,  and  he  will  at  once  see  it  as  a  very  distant  spire.  Or  let  him,  under  like  cir- 
cumstances, view  a  toy  coach  with  all  its  appointments,  and  believe  it  to  be  a  coach  of  ordinary 
size,  and  he  will  at  once  project  it  as  far  away  as  the  diminished  magnitude  requires.  In  pure 
outline  drawing,  when  no  accessions  of  shading  are  added  —  as,  for  example,  in  the  so-called 
etchings  of  Retzsch  —  distance  is  represented  in  part  by  diminished  magnitude. 

Second:  We  judge  of  magnitude  by  the  assumed  distance.  When  we  have 
Judgments  of  a  full  and  distinct  impression  of  the  distance  of  objects,  we  see  —  i.  e.,  per- 
distance.  ceive  —  them  in  full  size.  We  every  day  see  men  and  other  objects  at  long 

distances  greatly  diminished  and  dwarfed,  and  yet  we  do  not  perceivo  or 
Judge  them  to  be  smaller  than  they  really  are.  A  lofty  building  viewed  at  a  very  great  dis- 
tance, or  a  tall  ship  far  off  at  sea,  will  even  seem  loftier  than  when  viewed  from  a  position 
very  near,  from  which  the  beholder  looks  upward,  without  distance  and  other  aids  by  which  to 
judge  of  their  height.  The  most  impressive  judgments  of  the  height  of  the  loftiest  moun- 
tains and  edifices  are  gained  by  seeing  them  at  a  great  distance  over  an  intervening  plain. 

judgments  of  Third:  If  the  magnitude  is  unknown,  or  not  considered,  we 
coiSan  outline7  JU(^ge  °f  Distance  by  means  of  the  intensity  of  the  color,  the 
clearness,  etc.  '  sharpness  of  the  outline,  and  the  clearness  or  confusion  of 
the  distinguishable  parts.  For  example,  should  we  view,  through  a  tube, 
several  trees  of  the  same  species,  as  the  elm,  the  maple,  or  the  oak,  re« 
moved  at  different  distances  from  one  another,  the  nearest  would  be 
known  by  its  brighter  green,  its  more  sharply  defined  outline,  and  its 
more  clearly  distinguished  leaves  and  branches.  By  these  circumstances, 
designated  technically  as  '  atmosphere^  painters  produce  the  effect  of  near- 
ness or  distance,  with  accessories  of  relative  magnitude  and  of  more  or 
fewer  intervening  objects. 
11 


162  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  140 

The  traveller  in  Italy,  especially  when  he  goes  directly  from  England,  judges  the  moun- 
tains to  be  far  nearer  than  they  are  in  fact.  The  atmosphere  is  so  much  more  transparent  than 
that  to  which  he  is  accustomed,  as  to  bring  out  the  outlines  and  face  of  the  mountains  so  dis- 
tinctly that  he  cannot  believe  them  so  distant  as  they  are.  There  is  now  and  then  a  fine  day 
in  autumn  with  us,  on  which  the  distant  hills  and  rocks  seem  to  come  most  startlingly  near, 
and  at  times  to  hang  over  the  valley  in  threatening  proximity.  By  a  double  process  of  judg- 
ment,  objects  seen  in  a  mist  assume  a  gigantic  size.  The  indistinctness  of  their  outline  force? 
the  mind  to  judge  them  far  removed  ;  the  distance  is  incorrectly  interpreted,  and  then  their 
apparent  magnitude  at  such  a  distance  forces  us  again  to  invest  them  with  gigantic  proper- 
tions.  The  illusion  is  greatly  heightened,  if  the  mist  is  so  dense  as  to  hide  the  ground 
between  the  observer  and  the  object. 


jud  ments  of  ^e  JU(^&e  a^so  °^  ^e  s^ze  °f  °^jec^  ^7  comparing  them 
Bize.,.by  ,oth£-  with  other  objects  which  are  or  seem  to  be  at  equal  distance 

equidistant    ob-  •> 

iects-  from  ourselves.     If  the  size  or  distance  of  our  standard  of 

comparison  is  incorrectly  taken,  we  misjudge  altogether.  Dr.  Abercrom- 
bie  (Intellectual  Powers)  tells  us  that,  on  going  up  Ludgate  Hill  toward 
the  great  door  of  St.  Paul's,  which  was  open,  he  took  several  persons,  who 
were  standing  under  the  opening,  to  be  children,  whom  he  found,  on  com- 
ing up  to  them,  to  be  full-grown  men.  The  reason  was,  that  he  assumed 
the  height  of  the  door  to  be  less  than  it  really  was,  and,  by  this  false 
standard,  he  misjudged  the  size  of  the  persons  who  stood  under  it. 

A  striking  illustration  is  related  by  Upham  (Elements  of  Mental  Philosophy)  from  the 
Edinburgh  Journal  of  Science,  No.  vii.,  p.  90.  Some  defect  being  observed  in  the  effect  of  a 
dioramic  representation  of  Rochester  Cathedral,  an  attendant  undertook  to  remedy  it  by 
adjusting  the  canvas.  As  he  passed  his  hand  across  the  surface,  it  was  observed  to  grow 
enormously  large  when  it  reached  that  part  of  the  picture  which  represented  the  remotest  part 
of  the  interior  of  the  church.  The  hand,  by  the  effect  of  the  perspective,  was  first  thrown 
back  to  the  furthest  extremity  of  the  vista  of  receding  pillars,  and  was  then  measured  by 
the  assumed  size  of  the  objects  at  the  end.  In  this  case  there  was  a  double  judgment  ;  first, 
the  size  of  the  objects  which  were  employed  as  the  standard  was  estimated  by  their  distance 
as  represented  in  the  painting  ;  and  second,  the  hand  was  thrown  very  far  back  from  the  eye. 
Being  judged  by  the  estimated  size  of  the  objects  thus  enlarged,  it  was  thought  to  be  enor- 
mously large. 


influence  of  in-  of  distance  vary  according  as  there  are  more 

JS?ediate  °b~  or  fewer  intermediate  objects.  Objects  seen  across  the  land 
seem  further  than  objects  at  the  same  distance  seen  across 
the  water.  A  given  expanse  of  the  sea  is  greatly  enlarged  to  the  eye 
when  a  score  or  two  of  vessels  are  anchored  at  different  distances  along 
its  surface.  A  level  meadow  or  prairie,  with  copses,  trees,  and  dwellings 
interspersed,  seems  far  more  extended  than  without  them.  A  salt  marsh, 
when  dotted  with  haystacks,  seems  wider  than  at  the  season  when  they 
ire  removed. 

Intermediate  objects,  by  affecting  our  judgments  of  distance,  affect  oui 
judgments  of  size.  The  sun  and  moon  appear  larger  when  near  the  hori- 
zon than  when  toward  the  zenith.  Through  the  influence  of  intervening 
objects  and  the  dimming  influence  of  the  atmosphere,  they  are  removed  to 


§  141.  THE   ACQUIRED    SEXSE-PEKCEPTION3.  16<J 

a  greater  distance,  and  then  judged  to  be  larger.  The  sky  itself,  for  this 
reason,  is  not  the  half  of  a  sphere,  but  a  section,  of  which  the  height  is 
shorter  than  half  the  base.  The  moon,  rising  from  behind  a  wood,  is  great!} 
enlarged,  because  its  disc  is  divided  into  several  portions  by  the  trunks  01 
branches  of  the  trees,  by  which  its  apparent  size  is  measured.  It  is  thus 
brought  nearer  than  is  usual,  and  then  compared  with  familiar  standards  of 
size.  The  effect  is  heightened  by  the  glare  from  the  reflected  light,  which 
causes  trees  and  moon  to  be  blended  into  a  common  impression,  and  to 
stand  in  the  same  plane. 

When  the  ordinary  standards  of  judgment  are  withdrawn,  and  our  accustomed  processes 
cannot  he  applied,  we  are  either  greatly  embarrassed,  and  even  bewildered,  or  we  fall  into 
serious  and  amusing  errors.  Captain  Parry  says  :  "  We  had  frequent  occasion,  in  our  walks  on 
shore,  to  remark  the  deception  which  takes  place  in  estimating  the  distance  and  magnitude  of 
objects  over  an  unvaried  surface  of  snow.  It  was  not  uncommon  for  us  to  direct  our  steps 
toward  what  we  took  to  be  a  large  mass  of  stone  at  the  distance  of  half  a  mile  from  us,  but 
which  we  were  able  to  take  up  in  our  hands  after  one  minute's  walk.  This  was  more  particu- 
larly the  case  when  ascending  the  brow  of  the  hill."  The  traveller  in  Switzerland  finds  it 
impossible  to  believe  that  the  mountains  are  so  high  or  so  distant  as  he  is  told  they  are.  He 
cannot  trust  his  judgments  in  respect  to  either,  because  so  few  of  his  usual  standards  are  at 
hand.  So  faulty  and  confused  is  his  vision  at  times,  that  his  feelings  of  awe  and  his  sense  of 
the  sublime  fail  to  do  justice  to  the  grandeur  of  the  scenes. 

Let  any  person  closely  observe  and  attempt  to  analyze  his  own  processes  in  vision,  and  he 
will  be  surprised  to  find  how  small  a  portion  he  actually  or  accurately  sees  of  very  familiar 
objects,  when  they  are  viewed  from  a  distance ;  how  little  he  discerns  with  the  eye,  and  how 
much  he  supplies  by  the  mind.  We  look  at  a  dwelling,  and  think  we  can  distinguish  and 
trace  the  windows  and  doors ;  we  see  a  person,  and  are  certain  that  we  discern  his  form,  his 
dress,  his  gait,  and  his  features ;  but  if  we  look  more  closely,  we  find  that  we  see  with  far  less 
accuracy,  and  see  fewer  separate  parts  or  objects,  than  we  had  thought,  and  that  we  supply 
many  elements  that  are  wholly  wanting,  and  complete  many  that  are  very  defective  to  the 
bodily  eye. 

§  141.  By  means  of  sight  we  acquire  perceptions  appropriate 
form,  etc.,  by  to  the  touch.  When  we  look  at  a  sphere,  we  see  by  the  eye 

only  a  circular  disc,  on  which  the  transitions  of  color,  or  of 
tight  and  shade,  pass  so  finely  into  one  another,  that  we  know,  if  we 
grasp  it  with  our  hands,  we  shall  feel  it  to  be  spherical  in  form.  A 
Sphere  may  be  so  skilfully  painted  in  fresco  on  a  flat  surface,  that  we  actu- 
ally take  it  to  be  a  sphere  in  fact.  We  often  seem  to  see  projecting  stat- 
ues, graduated  mouldings,  depressed  panels,  receding  corridors,  vaulted 
domes  ;  and  yet,  as  we  approach,  we  find  only  a  plane  surface. 

When  the  blind  from  birth  are  restored  to  sight,  they  come  into  a  new  world,  of  the 
percepts  of  which,  and  their  relations  to  the  percepts  already  familiar  to  their  touch,  they  have 
had  no  previous  knowledge.  They  must  therefore  go  through  a  special  discipline  in  order  tc 
connect  the  well-known  objects  of  touch  with  the  newly-acquired  experiences  of  (he  eye. 
Thus  the  blind  boy  whose  sight  was  restored  by  Cheselden  could  not  call  the  cat  and  dog  by 
their  right  names,  or  could  not  tell  which  was  the  cat  and  which  was  the  dog.  He  could  dis- 
tinguish them,  indeed,  even  by  the  eye,  but  he  had  not  learned  to  connect  the  dog  and  cat  ai 


164  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §141 

handled — to  the  appropriate  forms  of  which  he  had  attached  the  names—with  the  dog  and  eat 
which  he  saw,  so  as  to  be  able  to  feel  them  by  means  of  his  eyes.  Finding  himself,  one  day, 
at  fault,  he  carefully  felt  of  the  cat  with  bis  hands,  his  eyes  being  shut,  and  set  her  down, 
exclaiming,  "  So,  puss,  I  shall  know  you  another  time."  The  question  has  been  often  asked 
(cf.  Locke,  Essay,  B.  ii.  c.  ix.  §  8),  whether  a  blind  man,  on  being  restored  to  sight,  would 
know  a  cube  from  a  sphere.  It  is  obvious  that,  so  far  as  mere  vision  is  concerned,  he  could 
not  but  distinguish  the  two  objects  so  soon  as  he  attended  to  them  with  the  eye.  What  he 
would  need  to  acquire  would  be  the  capacity  readily  to  connect  the  visible,  with  the  tangible 
cube  and  sphere. 

A  very  well  educated  blind  man,  who  had  reflected  on  his  own  intellectual  processes,  and 
had  read  somewhat  in  psychology,  once  observed  to  the  writer,  '  I  can  imitate  form  by  form, 
I  can  cut  out  and  shape  a  dog  in  wood  after  a  model  which  I  can  handle,  but  how  it  can  be 
possible  to  represent  form  and  relief  upon  a  flat  surface,  as  in  painting  and  drawing,  I  cannot 
conceive.  It  is  to  me  an  inexplicable  mystery.' 

The  process  by  which  the  blind  just  restored  to  sight  connect  the  eye  with  the  voice,  is  beautifully 
conceived  in  King  Rene's  daughter  (New  York,  1867),  where  lolanthe  recognizes  her  father,  Reni,  and 
her  lover,  Tristan. 

EBN  JAHIA  (her  physician)  •  Arise,  arise,  my  child,  and  look  around. 
IOLANTHE  (the  patient) :  Say,  what  are  these,  that  bear  such  noble  forms  P 

EBN  JAHIA  :  Thou  know'et  them  all. 

IOLANTHE  :  Ah,  no  ;  I  can  know  nothing. 

^^(approaching  IOLANTHE):  Look  on  me,  lolanthe— me,  thy  father! 

IOLANTHE  (embracing  him)  :      My  father !    Oh,  my  God !    Thou  art  my  father  I 
I  know  thee  now — thy  voice,  thy  clasping  hand. 
Stay  here !    Be  my  protector — be  my  guide  I 
I  am  so  strange  here,  in  this  world  of  light. 
They've  taken  all  that  I  possessed  away- 
All  that  in  old  time  was  thy  daughter's  joy. 

RENE  :  I  have  cull'd  out  a  guide  for  thee,  my  child. 

IOLANTHE  :  Whom  mean'st  thou? 

RENE  (pointing  to  TRISTAN)  •      See,  he  stands  expecting  thee. 

IOLANTHE  :  The  stranger  yonder  ?    Is  he  one  of  those 

Bright  cherubim  thou  once  didst  tell  me  of? 
Is  he  the  angel  of  the  light  come  down  ? 

RKN£  :  Thou  knowest  him — hast  spoken  with  him.    Think  I 

IOLAKTHB  With  him  ?  with  him  ?  (holds  her  hands  before  the  eyes) 

Father,  I  understand. 
In  yonder  glorious  form  must  surely  dwell 
The  voice  that  late  I  heard — gentle,  yet  strong ; 
The  one  sole  voice  that  lives  in  Nature's  round. 

(To  Tristan)  Oh,  but  one  word  of  what  thou  saidst  before ! 
rBisTAN :  Oh,  sweet  and  gracious  lady ! 

IOLANTHE  :  List  1  oh,  list ! 

"With  these  dear  words  the  light's  benignant  rays 
Found  out  a  way  to  me,  and  these  sweet  words 
With  my  heart's  warmth  are  intimately  blent. 

For  an  interesting  memoir  concerning  James  Mitchel,  a  youth  who  was  both  deaf  ana  blind,  sw« 
Dugald  Stewart,  Elements,  vol.  iii.  app.  For  accounts  of  Laura  Bridgman,  a  blind  deaf-mute,  see  Amatol 
Reports  of  the  Mass.  Institution  for  the  Blind,  by  S.  G.  Howe.  Also  a  memoir  in  Smithsonian  Contribu* 
lions,  vol.  ii.,  by  F.  Lieber.  For  accounts  of  Julia  Brace,  also  a  blind  deaf-mute,  see  Reports  of  the  Ameri 
can  Asylum,  Hartford,  Conn, 


§142.  THE   ACQUIRED   SENSE-PEKCEPTKXNS.  165 

Form  distance  §  *^*  ^  ^e  examples  which  have  been  ci.ed,  we  translate 
how ^af  learned  ^e  Percepti°ns  given  by  sight  into  those  which  are  derived 
from  touch.  from  touch.  The  proposition  is  sometimes  broadly  and  posi- 
tively laid  down,  that  from  the  touch  is  derived  all  perception  whatever 
of  form,  distance,  and  magnitude ;  inasmuch  as  in  all  cases,  in  the  last 
analysis  and  as  a  final  resort,  we  must  corne  back  to  the  touch  as  furnish- 
ing the  ultimate  standard.  The  position  is  sometimes  stated  thus:  All 
visible  extension  must  be  reduced  to  that  #hich  is  tangible.  These  propo- 
sitions need  to  be  somewhat  qualified,  it1  we  hold  that  by  the  sight  we 
perceive  superficial  extension.  They  are  true  to  the  letter  of  all  those 
perceptions  which  involve  the  relation  of  depth,  or  the  third  dimension  of 
space ;  but  to  all  judgments  of  superficial  form  and  dimensions  they  can- 
not literally  apply.  To  the  blind,  however,  it  is  true  that  touch  furnishes 
the  only  possible  standard  of  definite  form,  distance,  and  size. 

The  blind  man  applies  his  finger,  his  hand,  or  his  arm,  to  every  object  which  he  encoun- 
ters,  and  measures  its  size  by  these  as  standards.  He  measures  length  or  distance  also  by  the 
successive  steps  which  he  must  take  to  reach  objects  that  are  remote.  He  uses  his  muscular 
sensations  also  to  modify  and  complete  many  perceptions  of  form.  But  those  who  see,  per 
ceive  objects  extended  superficially.  Why,  then,  may  they  also  not  apply  any  of  these  objects 
is  units  of  measurement,  and  as  standards  by  which  to  judge  of  form  and  size  ?  And  why, 
when  the  mind  has  mastered,  through  touch,  the  third  dimension  of  space,  may  not  they,  as  the 
point  of  view  is  changed,  be  applied  to  measure  this  also  ?  We  reply,  they  may,  and  would 
do  so  always,  if  what  is  called  the  apparent  magnitude  of  the  standard,  and  of  the  objects  to 
which  it  is  applied,  did  not  constantly  change  as  these  are  near  or  remote.  A  yard-stick  or  a 
foot-rule  may  be  so  far  removed  from  the  eye,  as  to  measure  to  the  eye  no  more  than  a  foot  or 
an  inch  respectively.  Even  though  the  standard  is  unaltered  by  position,  the  object  measured 
may,  by  being  itself  carried  near  or  far,  measure  a  foot,  a  yard,  or  a  rod.  It  is  only  because 
we  are  certain  that  the  standard  and  its  objects  coincide,  that  we  are  satisfied  when  we  bring 
the  rule  to  the  surface  of  the  object  by  the  hand.  But  even  then  we  use  the  eye,  in  order  to 
be  certain  that  the  objects  coincide.  The  hand  of  the  blind,  however  surprising  may  be  its 
delicacy  of  touch,  can  never  attain  the  fineness  of  the  eye  in  discerning  the  lines  of  coinci- 
dence. Give  the  practised  eye  an  assurance  that  its  distances  are  correctly  taken,  and  it  will 
measure  and  judge  with  marvellous  accuracy.  In  very  many  instances  the  eye  supplies  or 
corrects  what  is  defective  to  the  hand,  as  truly  as,  in  many  others,  the  hand  brings  the  eye  to 
itself  for  the  final  adjustment  of  its  wavering  and  uncertain  movements.  It  is  a  circumstance 
which  is  worthy  attention,  and  certainly  ought  not  in  this  connection  to  be  overlooked,  that 
the  point  of  distance  from  the  eye  at  which  vision,  with  most  men,  is  most  satisfactory,  coin- 
cides with  that  at  which  the  hand  can  most  conveniently  handle  and  hold  an  object. 

The  doctrine  that  in  the  original  perceptions  of  vision  the  mind  cannot  perceive  distance,  has  been 
denied  by  some  able  authors,  particularly  by  Samuel  Bailey,  in  his  Review  of  Berkeley's  Theory  of  Vision, 
London,  1842  ;  and  by  Thomas  K.  Abbot,  M.A.  Trin.  Coll.  Dublin,  in  "  Sight  and  Touch,  an  attempt  to 
disprove  the  received  or  (Berkeleian)  Theory  of  Vision."  Lonlon,  1864.  Both  these  writers  urge  their  most 
plausible  objections  against  the  doctrine  as  Berkeley  held  it,  s'ome  features  of  which  have  been  abandoned 
by  its  recent  defenders.  Berkeley  insisted  (Theory  of  Vision  Vindicated  and  Explained,  MacMillan  &  Co., 
1860)  that  we  have  no  knowledge  of  extension  in  any  of  its  dimensions  by  vision  ;  that  vision  gives  color 
only,  and  that  there  is  no  necessary  connection  between  visible  and  tangible  extension.  All  of  these  posi- 
tions have  been  abandoned  by  most  who  adhere  to  his  doctrine  that  the  third  dimension  of  extension  ii 
Dot  the  object  of  vision  proper,  but  is  inferred  by  its  appropriate  signs.  Against  this  doctrine  Abbot  con 
tends  that  sight  and  not  touch  "  is  the  sense  properly  perceptive  of  distance  or  trinal  extension."  Abbot, 
however,  does  not  himself  hold,  that  the  perception  of  the  distance  or  an  object  is  immediate,  but  that  it  u 


itJ6  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  1  i3 

effected  by  means  of  the  varying  sensations  which  attend  the  adjustments  of  th,  eye.  Distance  n  general, 
or  space  being  given,  L  e.,  without  or  beyond  the  eye,  the  mind,  in  his  view,  judges  of  the  respective  distances 
of  visible  objects  by  the  delicate  sensations  which  the  eye  experiences  in  adjusting  its  axes  or  its  lenses- 
one  or  both — to  the  positions  requisite  for  distinct  vision.  This  is  to  make  the  original  perceptions  of  dis- 
tance to  be  judgments  or  inferences  by  signs,  the  signs  being  furnished  by  the  eye  itself.  This  in  principle 
is  coincident  with  one  feature  of  Berkeley's  theory,  the  difference  being,  that  Abbot  asserts  that  it  is  iron, 
the  eye  and  not  from  touch,  that  these  signs  are  originally  furnished. 

The  only  question  now  in  dispute  may  be  said  to  be  this,  Is  the  perception  of  distance  by  the  eye 
original  or  acquired?  is  it  the  result  of  instinctive  discernment  or  of  rational  judgment?  It  is  not  whether 
the  assumption  of  space  or  trinal  extension  is  required  as  the  condition  of  externality  to  both  mind  and 
body,  for  this  must  be  provided  in  some  way  or  other,  but  it  is  whether  the  eye  as  eye,  can  see  directly 
relative,  »'.  e.,  concrete,  extension  in  the  third  dimension?  Upon  this  question  Abbot  takes  both  sides.  In 
his  analysis  of  the  process  of  vision  he  denies.  But,  in  the  argument  which  he  founds  upon  the  observation 
of  infants  and  the  young  of  animals  as  well  as  of  the  cases  of  the  blind  restored  to  sight,  he  affirms. 

§  143.   It  is  by  the  acquired  perceptions  that  we  definitely 

Acquired  sense-      ' 

perceptions     of    assign  the  places  of  our  sensations  to  me  different  parts  of 

our  own  body.  ° 

the  body. 

All  the  sense-perceptions  must  be  known  to  have  some  place  in  the 
sensoriura  (§  114),  though  the  limits  of  the  place  may  not  be  definitely 
drawn,  and  the  relative  position  of  each  perception  may  not  be  exactly 
fixed.  We  cannot  believe,  as  we  have  already  argued,  that  the  sensatjons 
of  sight,  of  hearing,  of  pain  in  the  breast  or  in  the  teeth,  could  all  be  expe- 
rienced together  without  being  known  to  pertain  to  the  extended  senso- 
rium,  and,  in  some  sense,  to  different  parts  of  the  same.  Whatever  is 
involved  in  such  a  perception,  taken  singly,  is  an  original  perception. 
Whatever  is  added  or  superinduced  by  combining  several  perceptions,  is 
acquired  by  experience.  For  example  :  an  adult  person  has  a  pain  in  one 
of  his  teeth,  he  does  not  know  which — or  a  cut  in  a  part  of  his  arm,  he 
does  not  know  exactly  where.  If  he  touches  the  tooth  with  his  tongue, 
or  if  he  discovers  in  a  mirror,  which  one  is  defective,  he  ascertains  which  is 
the  one  affected  ;  he  learns,  as  we  say,  where  the  pain  is.  In  a  similar  way, 
by  the  eye,  we  fix  the  place  of  the  cut  in  the  arm.  By  processes  similar 
to  this,  that  is,  by  processes  of  combining  subjective  sensations — i.  e., 
muscular  and  organic,  with  those  of  sight  and  touch  as  employed  on  the 
surface  of  the  body — we  learn  to  connect  the  one  with  the  other,  till  we 
reach  all  the  definiteness  that  is  possible  to  be  attained. 

That  much  of  this  knowledge  is  acquired,  is  evident  from  some  cases  of  lesion  in  different 
parts  of  the  body,  and  of  the  loss  of  a  limb  by  amputation  A  man  who  has  no  foot,  will  feel 
pain  in  the  foot.  Why?  Because  he  experiences  precisely  the  same  sensations  which  he 
Buffered  when  he  had  the  foot,  and  knew  it  was  the  seat  of  the  pain.  But  if  he  had  never  had 
a  foot,  he  would  never  have  assigned  pain  to  it ;  for  he  would  never  have  had  the  means,  bj 
eye  or  hand  or  muscular  sensations,  of  connecting  these  sensations  with  it.  Some  perceptions 
are  far  more  definite  than  others.  All  those  connected  with  the  eye  and  the  ear  are  con- 
fidently ascribed  to  their  several  organs ;  the  subjective  and  vital  perceptions  it  is  often  verj 
difficult  exactly  to  locate. 

Acquired  percep-  ^  *s  a^8°  ^7  tne  acquired  perceptions  that  we  learn  to  regu 
tions  required  to  \^e  ail(j  control  the  movements  of  the  body.  Man  wa? 

manage  and  con-  * 

troi  the  body.       made  to  move.     The  first  and  most  elementary  activities  of 


§144.  TUB   ACQUIRED    SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  161 

his  complex  nature  are  manifested  by  bodily  movements.  WLen  the  soul, 
so  to  speak,  finds  the  body,  it  finds  it  in  motion.  Not  only  is  this  true. 
but  the  body  is,  by  its  very  structure,  adapted  to  certain  specific  motions, 
as  of  walking,  speaking,  and  singing,  all  having  a  precise  and  definite  rela- 
tion to  either  its  present  or  its  future  wants  or  enjoyments.  These  bodily 
capacities  the  soul  acquires  the  power  to  use  in  definite  ways  for  specific 
ends.  The  motions  to  which  nature  prompts,  the  intellect  learns  to  con- 
trol and  regulate,  so  as  to  bring  to  pass  special  and  determinate  results. 
This  is  done  by  acquiring  the  capacity  to  combine  and  connect  various 
perceptions  with  certain  efforts  to  move  the  body,  which  efforts  are 
brought  within  its  reach  by  the  soul's  own  perceptions.  This  is  a  general 
statement  of  the  facts  and  principles  which  relate  to  this  subject.  A 
more  particular  consideration  of  them  requires  the  distinct  consideration 
of  two  separate  questions :  What  does  nature  provide  or  furnish  ?  and 
how  does  the  intellect  apply  these  provisions  or  furnishings  of  Nature  ? 

We  ask,  first :    What  does  nature  provide  f 
what  docs  if  a-    §  144.    We  have  already  adverted  to  the  fact  (§108),  that 

ture  provide  in.,.  .  •.  •   i  -i  •   •  .  •  i 

the  construction    with  the  sentient  nerves,  which  conditionate  sensauon,  there 

and  impulses  of  •  -,     i      i  /r  t»   t_    •         •  i    .»  .  •  T 

the  body?  are  provided  the  reflex  motor,  wnicn  impel  to  motion.     In 

obedience  to  the  stimulus  furnished  by  the  one,  there  is  awakened  in  the 
other  an  unbidden  and  often  an  uncontrollable  tendency  to  motion.  Con- 
sciousness need,  and  often  does  not,  intervene.  The  motion  will  occur 
without  her  bidding,  and  often  without  her  knowledge.  Thus,  we  wink 
in  response  to  the  stimulus  of  light.  Thus,  the  flesh  quivers,  and  with- 
draws itself  from  the  knife  ;  the  muscles  knit  themselves  into  convulsions 
and  cramps.  Under  the  same  law,  the  excitements  being  diverse,  the 
heart  beats,  the  lungs  expand,  and  other  involuntary  motions  are  per- 
formed. These  functions  and  operations  relate  to  the  body,  and  their 
effects  terminate  in  its  well-being. 

There  are  other  movements  that  are  as  truly  involuntary  and 

Arrangements 

Srd  bodSpUex8  connatura^»  which  the  intellect  has  the  power  to  apprehend 
pression.  an(j  the  will  to  control.  Such  are  the  muscular  efforts  that 

are  involved  in  speaking,  singing,  and  walking,  or  in  feats  of  skill  or  dex- 
terity. Many  of  these  relate  to  the  soul  as  well  as  to  the  body,  in  th« 
way  of  use  or  enjoyment.  Some  of  them  are  made  ready  for  the  spirit 
against  the  time  when  it  shall  be  sufficiently  developed  to  apply  them  with 
intelligence  and  design.  To  all  these  movements  the  stimulant  comes  not 
from  without,  but  from  within ;  not  from  the  surface  of  the  body, 
through  the  sentient  inwardly,  and  back  again  along  the  reflex  motor 
without,  but  by  the  direct  action  of  some  exciting  force  from  within, 
When  the  infant  weeps  from  pain,  and  laughs  and  shouts  from  delight,  it  is 
under  the  excitement  proceeding  directly  from  the  soul,  that  the  muscles 
are  moved  to  laughter  and  to  tears.  In  the  same  way,  every  emotion 
seeks  and  finds  expression  by  attitudes,  looks,  and  gestures.  Let  but  the 


168  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §145 

soul  feel  wonder  or  surprise,  and  the  face  puts  on  a  peculiar  look,  the 
frame  adjusts  itself  to  a  given  attitude,  and  the  limbs  are  incited  to  appro- 
priate  gestures  —  i.  e.,  the  muscles  obey  nervous  incitements  from  within, 
which  produce  these  outward  effects  in  the  body. 

In  the  same  way  is  man  prompted  to  speech  :  first  to  inarticulate  cries  expressing  emotion 
only,  and  then  to  articulate  language  and  words  significant  of  definite  thought.  Nature  pro- 
vides for  all  this,  by  making  man  capable  of  a  limited  range  of  vocal  sounds,  through  the 
action  of  those  muscles  that  move  the  larynx  ;  and  nature  prompts  to  the  use  of  these 
muscles  in  various  ways,  according  to  the  varying  excitements  of  feeling  and  thought.  To 
very  many,  if  not  to  all  of  these  effects,  the  consentient  action  of  many  muscles  is  required. 
For  this,  Nature  provides  by  so  arranging  the  structure  of  the  nerves  through  which  these 
consentient  muscles  are  excited,  that,  under  the  stimulus  of  feeling  or  thought,  those  needed, 
and  those  alone,  shall  be  aroused  to  the  united  activities  which  conspire  to  the  single  effect. 


Arrangements  ^°*  on^  does  nature  provide  for  the  conspiring  action  of 
actMtvofSer-  several  muscles  to  one  effect,  but  she  even  arranges  for  and 
ent  parts.  prompts  to  the  combined  action  of  different  parts  of  the 

body,  in  obedience  to  a  single  impulse.  In  order  to  progress  by  walking, 
each  leg  must  alternately  advance  before  and  wait  for  the  other.  To  this 
alternate  motion  there  is  an  original  impulse.  It  is  a  movement  which  the 
infant  makes  long  before  it  begins  to  walk.  The  arms,  on  the  other  hand. 
fcend  to  move  together.  So  do  the  fingers.  It  is  difficult,  and  sometimes 
Impossible,  by  any  effort  to  bring  certain  of  the  fingers  to  a  separate  action. 
But  it  is  in  the  eyes  that  this  tendency  to  joint  action  is  most  conspicuous. 
The  eyes  will  persistently  move  in  the  same  direction  together.  They 
cannot  be  forced  to  act  apart.  One  eye  cannot  by  any  violence  be  made 
to  look  upward  while  the  other  is  directed  downward.  One  will  not  tend 
to  the  right,  and  the  other  to  the  left. 

Even  more  than  this  is  true.  There  seems  to  be,  so  to  speak,  a  natural  aptitude  for  the 
joint  action  of  organs  that  are  not  paired  together,  but  which  yet  are  fitted  to  aid  each  other 
In  important  uses.  This  is  preeminently  true  of  the  eye  and  the  hand.  The  eye  must  lead  the 
hand,  and  the  hand  follow  the  eye,  in  a  multitude  of  actions.  When  we  would  touch  or  grasp 
A  small  object  at  the  first  trial,  the  eye  must  guide.  When  we  would  strike  it  with  a  stick 
which  we  hold,  or  with  a  projectile,  the  eye  must  conspire  with  a  fixed  and  earnest  gaze. 
Ihere  must  be  some  physical  reason  for  this  concurrent  action  of  nerves  a:»d  muscles  connect- 
ed  with  two  organs,  though  it  has  not  yet  been  discovered. 

We  ask,  second  :  Sow  does  the  intellect  apply  what  nature  provides  f 
HOW  does  the  in-    §  145'  ^e  mte^ect  ^^  itself  furnished  with  this  corporeal 


instrument>  an<^  actually  using  4t  under  the  promptings  of 
nature  ;  it  finds  itself  laughing,  weeping,  speaking,  and 
walking,  under  the  promptings  of  nature,  and  it  acquires  the  power  of 
directing  these  activities  in  particular  methods  and  to  certain  definite 
results,  and  of  doing  this  so  readily,  that  it  does  not  notice  its  own  pro- 
cesses, or  advert  to  the  elements  of  which  these  processes  consist.  First, 
n  observes  the  muscular  sensations  which  are  employed  when  certain 


§145.  THE   ACQUIRED    SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  16? 

effects  occur,  and  the  effects  it  observes  by  the  appropriate  sense-percep 
lion.  It  experiments  upon  them,  and  notices  how  the  sensations  which 
are  connected  with  the  varying  use  of  its  muscles  are  connected  with  a 
varying  effect.  Then  it  tentatively  and  designedly  repeats  the  effect  which 
it  has  chanced  to  produce,  or  it  seeks  to  imitate  the  effect  which  another 
has  accomplished ;  e.  g.,  to  utter  a  sound,  to  refrain  from  laughter  or  from 
weeping,  to  walk  slowly  or  rapidly,  or  with  a  particular  gait.  By  the 
repetition  of  the  effort,  the  effect  is  produced  without  attention  to  the 
means,  till  at  last  the  effect  seems  to  occur  without  the  use  of  these 
means  it  all.  When  the  mind  would  accomplish  an  object,  as  utter  a 
sound,  hold  a  book,  or  let  it  fall,  walk,  run,  or  leap,  it  thinks  only  of  the 
effect,  and  wills  it,  and  it  is  done. 

When  we  speak  of  the  necessity  that  certain  muscles  should  conspire  to  produce  a  par- 
ticular result,  and  say  that  the  required  action  is  known  to  the  mind  by  means  of  muscular 
sensations,  it  is  not  to  be  inferred  that  there  is  a  special  sensation  appropriate  to  each  separate 
muscle,  and,  of  course,  a  special  complex  of  sensations,  corresponding  to  the  particular  get 
of  muscles  which  are  combined  to  the  given  result.  That  these  sensations  proceed  from  the 
muscles,  is  least  of  all  known  or  noticed,  inasmuch  as  the  spirit  has  no  direct  cognizance  of  its 
muscles,  and  does  not  know  how  many  it  uses,  or  that  it  uses  any,  till  the  anatomist  uncovers 
them  by  dissection.  The  sensation  which  indicates  and  guides  to  a  designed  effect  may  be 
simple  or  complex  ;  it  is  sufficient  that  to  each  effect  a  definite  sensation  is  assigned. 

By  means  of  such  sensations  the  mind  learns  to  produce  these 
HOW  we  learn  to  effects  with  readiness  and  precision.  In  learning  the  un- 
familiar sounds  or  combinations  of  a  foreign  language,  we 
try  one  experiment  after  another,  till  at  last  we  succeed.  When  the  ear  is 
satisfied  that  the  result  is  reached,  we  repeat  the  muscular  effort  required, 
guided  by  the  muscular  sensations,  till  our  command  over  the  organs  is 
complete,  and  we  can  produce  at  will  the  sounds  which  we  seek  for.  The 
infant  pursues  the  same  method  in  learning  to  talk.  It  is  awakened  from 
its  purposeless  lispings  by  the  desire  to  produce  a  sound,  as  to  pronounce 
a  word,  or  brief  sentence.  At  first  it  succeeds  imperfectly,  but  well 
enough  to  guide  its  efforts  in  the  direction  toward  complete  success.  It 
triumphs  at  last,  and  it  attentively  observes  the  sensation  which  is  con- 
nected with  the  word  which  it  has  learned  to  speak.  By  producing  these 
sensations,  it  can  repeat  the  word  or  sentence  a  second  time. 

The  deaf-mute  cannot  learn  to  speak,  not  because  he  is  mute  by  reason  of  any  defect  in 
the  organs  of  speech,  but  because  he  is  deaf,  and  cannot  guide  them.  He  has  the  vocal  appa- 
ratus in  complete  perfection.  He  can  make  all  the  varieties  of  vocal  utterances  which  are 
required  in  speech.  But  not  having  the  ear  by  which  to  direct  his  efforts,  he  can  neither 
form  his  own  efforts  to  definite  results,  nor  can  he  keep  the  acquisitions  which  he  has  made. 
In  a  few  cases,  the  deaf  and  dumb  have  been  taught  to  articulate  by  a  discipline  specially 
directed  to  the  management  of  the  vocal  apparatus ;  but  the  articulation  is  imperfect,  and 
easily  lost.  A  few  striking  cases  are  reported  of  persons  who  had  lost  their  hearing  in  early 
childhood,  and  have  yet  retained  the  power  of  conversation,  by  reading  the  words  of  others  OB 
*heir  lips,  and  uttering  their  owu  by  the  guidance  of  their  remembered  muscular  sensations, 


1*70  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  1  45 

But  the  articulation  usually  becomes  degenerate  and  disagreeable,  for  lack  of  the  correcting 
and  refining  guidance  of  the  ear. 

The  infant  learns  to  walk  as  it  learns  to  talk.  It  notices  the 
Hojr^re  learn  to  sensations  which  attend  those  adjustments  of  the  muscles 

which  are  necessary  to  quick  or  slow  progress,  to  rising  or 
sitting,  to  running  or  leaping.  In  all  these  effects  we  are  usually  guided 
by  the  eye.  But  sometimes  we  have  not  the  eye  to  guide  us.  We  ascend 
a  flight  of  stairs  to  which  we  are  accustomed,  by  a  vague  remembrance  ol 
the  height  and  width  of  the  steps.  The  blind  depend  on  the  guidance  of 
others,  both  in  their  first  essays  and  in  many  of  the  subsequent  uses  which 
they  make  of  their  limbs. 

Occasionally  it  happens  that  a  man  is  forced  to  learn  to  walk  a  second  time.  Upham 
(Elements,  §  110)  tells  the  story  of  a  person  whose  spine  was  crushed  under  the  wheels  of  a 
heavy  vehicle,  so  as  to  disable  him  from  the  use  of  his  legs  for  a  long  time.  On  his  partial 
recovery,  he  found  that,  though  his  muscles  were  so  far  uninjured  that  they  would  move  his 
limbs,  yet  he  did  not  know  how  to  regulate  them.  He  could  contract  and  expand  his  musclea 
in  every  possible  motion,  but  he  did  not  know  which  would  advance,  and  which  withdraw  his 
limbs.  The  muscular  sensations  on  which  he  had  formerly  relied  were  either  no  longer  expe- 
rienced, or  they  did  not  indicate  the  same  motions  as  formerly.  He  was  therefore  forced,  a 
second  time,  to  go  through  the  process  of  learning  to  connect  new  muscular  sensations  with  the 
movements  required. 

By  similar  processes  dexterity  is  acquired  in  those  uses  of 

Feats  of  dexter-         J 

ity.       Expres-    the  limbs  which  are  required  in  feats  of  dexterity,  as  in 

Bional  effects.  /.  i         -,  •          i       • 

sleight  of  hand,  or  in  playing  on  a  musical  instrument.  By 
effort  and  repetition,  new  acquisitions  may  be  gained  which  are  more  sur- 
prising than  those  movements  for  which  nature  provides  an  original  ten- 
dency. It  is  to  be  observed,  however,  that  whatever  movements  nature 
fails  to  provide  for,  she  gracefully  accepts  as  a  second  or  additional  en- 
dowment. The  effort  to  constrain  the  organs  or  limbs  to  an  unnatural 
position  or  adjustment,  may  at  first  be  painful,  and  it  may  cost  constant 
and  severe  application.  But  if  it  is  persevered  in,  and  especially  if  the 
intervals  in  which  it  is  remitted  are  short,  these  new  adjustments  of  the 
muscles  are  secured,  and  they  even  shape  themselves  to  new  forms  under 
the  nervous  stimulus  that  is  directed  to  them.  Muscles  and  nerves  that 
had  never  acted  together  before,  conform  to  new  harmonies.  While  the 
mind  is  renewing  its  efforts  at  brief  intervals  for  a  succession  of  months 
or  years,  the  substance  of  the  body,  in  obedience  to  the  laws  of  life,  is 
continually  changing ;  and  as  it  changes  in  material,  it  is  also  changed  in 
form,  under  the  moulding  pressure  of  psychical  tension. 

In  infancy  and  early  childhood  the  merely  physical  capacity  of  receiving  directions  and 
impressions  from  within  is  incomparably  more  ready  and  quick  than  in  later  years.  In  early 
/ife,  every  single  distinct  effort  in  the  use  of  any  bodily  organ  seems  to  initiate  a  definite  physi- 
cal predisposition  toward  a  permanent  physical  effect,  either  in  the  force  or  direction  of  the 
neivous  stimulus,  or  in  a  new  combination  of  muscles,  or  the  fixing  some  form  or  attitude.  A 
few  repetitions,  a  brief  perseverance,  and  the  body  is  permanently  moulded  i>r  fixed  to  this 


146.  THE    ><V)nRFT>   SENSE-PJSECEPT1ONS. 


special  service  of  the  soul,  in  some  new  aj»tMurle  or  habit.  Ilence  it  is  tLat  the  bodily  habits 
acquired  in  eirly  life  are  so  readily  contrarte4  <*nd  so  inveterately  retained.  But  whethe' 
the  law  acts  with  greater  or  less  efficiency  at  an  e?rlv  or  later  period,  the  principle  is  the  same, 
Certain  muscles  of  the  hand  act  together  under  ^orae  casual  or  intended  impulse,  and  i 
character  is  given  to  the  handwriting.  Certain  other  combinations  give  a  distinct  individuality 
to  the  gait,  the  pose  of  the  head,  and  the  bearing  of  the  n?an.  New  powers  of  expression  are 
gained  by  the  vocal  organs  for  the  purposes  of  elocution  and  music.  Peculiar  habits  of  speak- 
ing and  of  singing  are  assumed.  The  face  becomes  capable  of  expressing  an  additional  num- 
ber and  variety  of  shades  and  moods  of  feeling.  The  exercise  of  severe  and  concentrated 
thought  forms  the  features  to  a  peculiar  expression.  Care  and  suffering  write  lines  upon  the 
brow.  Noble  and  generous  emotions,  cherished  and  manifested,  fix  a  spiritual  impress  upon  the 
face.  The  indulgence  of  sensual  and  vicious  passions  form  the  muscle^  to  a  debased  and  ani- 
rnalized  expression.  Thus  the  body  becomes  spiritualized  by  the  soul,  which  employs  it'  in 
noble  uses,  or  becomes  literally  imbruted  by  being  degraded  to  the  service  of  cunning,  of 
indolence,  and  of  shame. 

These  many  and  various  examples  of  the  acquired  percep- 
inferemces  and  ^ons  nave  ^een  adduced  from  all  the  senses  in  order  to  prove 

conclusively  ihut  we  use  these  perceptions  constantly,  with- 
out reflection,  and  usually  without  being  aware  that  the  process  is  mediate 
and  indirect.  They  show,  moreover,  that  the  fact  that  the  process  is  per- 
formed unconsciously  does  not  prove  in  the  least  that  the  intellect  does 
not  perform  a  process.  The  ease,  rapidity,  and  apparent  directness  of  the 
movements  of  the  mind  are  no  valid  proofs  against  the  position  that  the 
mind,  in  all  these  cases,  uses  one  perception  as  a  sign  of  another.  Nor  do 
they  hold  at  all,  when  urged  against  the  more  obscure  and  unremembered 
processes  by  which  the  infant  makes  its  subtle  acquisitions,  forming  those 
deft  and  dexterous  habits  which  give  it  more  than  half  its  individuality, 
and  weaving  those  associations  which  become  more  than  a  second  nature. 

S  146.    What  are  called  the  errors  of  the  senses  lie  wholly 

The     errors    of     °  ....  .       _    *  * 

.he  senses  ex-  within  the  sphere  of  the  acquired  perceptions.  A  person 
needs  only  to  fall  into  a  few  of  these  mistakes  to  be  con- 
vinced that  they  are  mistakes  of  judgment  only,  and  that,  whether  he 
errs  or  judges  correctly,  the  process  is  a  process  of  judgment  or  induction. 
When  a  man  sees,  as  he  says,  a  bent  stick  in  the  water,  he  judges  that  it 
is  bent  by  what  he  sees  ;  or,  in  other  words,  he  judges  by  what  he  stes, 
that,  if  the  stick  is  handled  or  otherwise  tested  by  the  sense  of  touch,  it 
will  be  found  to  be  crooked.  And  yet  he  seems  to  perceive  by  the  eye 
that  it  is  bent.  So,  when  he  looks  into  a  kaleidoscope,  and  sees  scores  of 
brilliant  objects  arranged  in  symmetrical  groups,  he  perceives  them  all  by 
the  eye,  and  can  count  their  number,  and  does  not  doubt  that  he  can  grasp 
them  all  by  the  hand.  It  is  common  in  such  cases  for  a  person  to  say  that 
his  senses  deceive  him.  But  the  senses  are  not  treacherous  ;  they  cannot 
deceive.  It  is  the  mar  who  is  deceived  in  the  judgments  which  he  pro- 
nounces, on  the  evidence  which  the  senses  furnish.  He  is  simply  hasty 
and  premature  in  judging  by  the  eye.  He  rashly  connects,  with  what  he 
sees  by  the  eye,  something  which  he  believes  with  his  mind.  The  bent 


172  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  146, 

stick  is  perceived  when  out  of  the  water  just  as  is  a  bent  stick  in  the  water 
in  either  case  a  judgment  is  pronounced — in  the  one  case  a  judgment 
which  is  right,  in  the  other  a  judgment  which  is  wrong. 

The  muscular  sensations  of  the  fingers  are  also  disturbed.  We  crosa 
the  fingers,  and  at  the  points  of  each  a  single  pea  is  felt  as  two.  The  rea- 
son is  that  the  convex  surfaces,  which  as  they  are  usually  touched  are  inter- 
preted as  looking  inward  forming  a  single  sphere,  seem  to  look  outward, 
and  by  the  imagination  are  interpreted  as  requiring  two,  to  complete  them. 

We  commit  similar  errors  in  all  our  acquired  perceptions.  We  judge  wrongly  of  the 
origin,  the  place,  and  the  distance  of  smells  and  sounds,  when  the  ordinary  criteria  are  not 
present,  or  some  extraordinary  circumstance  is  not  noticed.  So  we  make  many  hasty  infer- 
ences in  respect  to  the  size,  distance,  and  form  of  visible  objects,  either  from  the  careless  use 
of  the  senses  themselves,  which  leads  us  to  overlook  some  peculiarity  of  the  object  directly 
perceived,  or  from  the  limitations  of  our  previous  experience,  which  have  failed  to  make  us 
acquainted  with  some  novel  element,  as  the  water  which  refracts  the  light,  or  the  kaleidoscope 
which  reflects  and  multiplies  it  into  bright  and  symmetrical  forms. 

This  class  of  the  so-called  errors  and  deceptions  of  the  senses 
guished  from  ought  to  be  sharply  distinguished  from  another,  which  is 

another  class. 

caused  by  the  physical  conditions  of  the  sensations  them- 
selves. Some  men,  for  example,  are  color-blind — i.  e.,  they  see  all  objects 
in  one  uniform,  dingy  hue,  instead  of  under  the  bright  and  diversified 
colors  which  are  granted  to  the  majority  of  men.  Some  men,  through  a 
disease  of  the  stomach  or  liver,  see  every  object  tinged  with  yellow.  It 
occasionally  happens  that  a  man  is  afflicted  with  double  vision — seeing 
two  objects  in  cases  where  other  men  see  but  one.  Others  see  spectra,  or 
visible  images,  having  no  tangible  reality,  and  no  reality  at  all  except  to 
the  individual  who  beholds  them.  Others  hear  sounds,  as  of  ringing  in 
the  ears,  when  there  is  no  sonorous  body,  and  no  vibration  of  the  atmo 
sphere.  All  cases  of  this  kind  are  not  deceptions  of  the  senses,  for  the 
objects  perceived  are  the  natural  and  legitimate  product  of  the  physical 
conditions  that  are  present ;  these  conditions  being  the  physical  excitants 
or  stimuli  and  the  sensorium  excited,  whether  healthy  or  unhealthy, 
whether  normal  or  abnormal. 

Phenomena  of  this  sort  reveal  the  true  nature  of  the  sensational  element  in  the  original 
perceptions.  As  the  so-called  errors  in  the  acquired  perceptions  call  our  attention  to  the  real 
nature  of  these  perceptions,  proving  them  in  all  cases  to  be  judgments  by  signs  or  evidence, 
BO  do  these  abnormal  or  irregular  phenomena  of  the  direct  or  original  perceptions  establish 
the  fact  beyond  question,  that  the  sensational  element  is  a  joint  product  of  the  physical  agent, 
the  so-called  object,  and  the  sensorium,  or  animated  organism  ;  that  there  is  no  sound  without 
an  ear,  no  sight  without  the  eye,  no  touch  without  the  hand,  and  that  what  is  heard,  seen,  and 
touched,  depends  on  the  eye,  the  ear,  and  the  hand,  as  truly  as  upon  the  object.  If  we  revert 
to  our  original  definition  of  knowledge  as  the  apprehension  of  objects  by  their  relations,  we 
should  say  that  the  object-matter,  the  sensational  element  in  the  original  sense-perceptions, 
may  change  according  as  its  conditions  are  altered,  but  that  the  relations  discerned  by  the  per- 
ceptional act  are  always  the  same,  the  act  itseL  oeing  inconceivable  and  impossible  without 


g  148.  THE    ACQUIRED    SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  178 

them.  So  far  as  the  speculative  question  of  the  veracity  and  trustworthiness  of  our  powei 
of  knowledge  is  concerned,  and  the  speculative-practical  question  of  the  grounds  of  our  con- 
fidence in  the  testimony  of  the  senses,  both  these  are  to  be  settled  by  the  general  principle! 
which  are  fundamental  to  all  the  inductive  processes,  These  principles  will  be  considered  in 
their  appropriate  place. 


The     acquired    §  14/^   ^he  acquired  perceptions  differ  from  the  original  as 
perceptions  ^^as    kin<}s  or  forms  of  knowledge.     Acts  of  original  perception 


ed&e-  are  acts  of  direct  or  immediate  knowledge.     In  such  acts 

the  objects  are  present  to  the  intellect,  and  the  intellect  knows  directly 
that  they  are,  and  that  they  hold  their  appropriate  relations.  Acts  of  ac- 
quired perception  are  acts  of  mediate  knowledge.  In  such  acts  it  is  by 
the  medium  or  through  the  aid  of  another  act  of  original  perception,  that 
the  object  is  reached  which  is  perceived  by  the  act  in  question.  Thus, 
when  I  know  the  occasion  of  an  odor,  the  size  or  distance  of  an  object 
seen,  etc.,  etc.,  I  use  a  direct  or  immediate  perception  as  the  medium 
through  which  I  reach  what  I  believe  or  know. 

Again  :  an  act  of  acquired  perception  requires  for  its  fulfilment  the 
representative*  power,  in  the  form  of  fancy  or  memory.  When  the  mind, 
on  occasion  of  a  direct  perception,  supplies  that  which  it  does  not  directly 
feel,  or  see,  or  measure,  it  must  bring  its  object  forth  from  what  it  has 
formerly  experienced,  either  in  the  precise  form  of  a  previous  perception, 
or  of  one  that  is  similar  or  analogous.  But  the  original  perception  appre- 
hends its  object  directly. 

Again  :  if  the  act  of  acquired  perception  rests  upon  the  representing 
power  or  agency,  it  must  involve  the  action  of  the  associative  power.  At 
the  experience  of  one  odor,  we  think  of  a  lily  ;  at  the  experience  of  an- 
other, of  the  tuberose.  At  the  sight  of  a  distant  moving  object,  no  larger 
than  a  speck,  we  think  of  a  man  or  a  horse.  What  brings  the  form  of  a 
rose  or  a  tuberose,  the  picture  of  a  man  or  a  horse,  before  my  mind's  eye 
on  the  occasion  of  these  direct  perceptions?  We  must  anticipate  on-. 
knowledge  of  the  laws  which  govern  the  representative  power,  in  order  t* 
answer  —  The  laws  of  association  (§  238). 

§  148.  Every  act  of  acquired  perception  is  an  act  of  indue 
t*on*  ^oe  mm<^  ^08S  m°re  than  represent  some  picture  01 
remembrance  out  of  the  stores  of  its  past  experience  ;  it 
believes  there  is  a  real  object  corresponding  to  this  picture.  In  so  doing, 
it  performs  a  process  of  induction.  It  judges,  by  the  signs  or  indications 
which  the  original  perceptions  furnish,  that  there  are  existing  objects 
which  the  other  senses  would  find  to  exist  should  they  make  the  trial. 
The  process  by  which  this  belief  is  attained  is  variously  named  inference, 
induction,  judgment,  interpretation,  etc.  It  is  peculiar  in  this,  that  it 
knows  by  media  or  signs,  and  that  it  assumes  that  these  signs  always  indi- 
cate  the  same  accompaniments,  and  that  the  laws  and  operations  of  Nature 
are  uniform  in  respect  to  the  connections  which  are  indicated  (§  468). 


4  74  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §1^8 

It  may  surprise  many  to  learn  that  the  processes  employed  in  the  acquired  perceptions  are 
processes  of  induction.  Induction  is  usually  conceived  and  described  as  a  process  which  is 
appropriated  to  philosophical  discovery,  which  requires  wide  generalization  and  profound 
reflection,  and  issues  only  in  comprehensive  principles  and  laws.  A  little  reflection  will  satisfy 
any  one,  however,  that  the  act  of  mind  is  the  same  with  that  performed  in  every  one  of  the 
acquired  perceptions.  The  difference  between  the  two  kinds  of  induction  is  not  in  the  process, 
but  in  the  materials  upon  and  with  which  the  mind  performs  them.  But  the  acts,  the  funda- 
mental assumptions,  and  the  liability  to  error  in  both,  are  essentially  the  same. 

But  it  cannot  be  possible,  it  will  be  urged,  that  the  perceptions  which  the 
Reasons  why  *£•  infant  so  rapidly  acquires,  and  which  the  most  ignorant  and  unreflecting  sc 
these  inductions,  skilfully  apply,  are  in  their  nature  similar  to  those  profound  and  daring  acts 

by  which  the  astronomer  scales  the  heavens,  and  the  naturalist  penetrates  and 
resolves  the  mysteries  of  the  universe.  The  difficulties  and  objections  which  are  expressed  in 
this  language  can  be  most  effectually  set  aside,  if  we  notice  the  differences  in  the  circumstances 
and  conditions  of  the  acts  performed  by  the  infant  and  the  philosopher. 

1.  We  notice  that  the  infant  employs  its  perceptions  upon  a  very  limited  number  of 
objects.     The  sensations  which  its  own  body  gives  are  not  very  numerous,  whether  they  be 
muscular  or  external.     Certainly  those  to  which  the  attention  is  at  first  directed  are  but  few, 
and  these  are  vaguely  and  rudely  perceived,   and  as  vaguely  recalled.     It  is  not   till  the 
attention  is  disciplined  and  matured,  and  only  just  as  fast  as  this  happens,  that  it  finds  in  the 
body  within  and  the  world  without  an  infinitude  of  distinguishable  object^  ever  presenting 
themselves  to  be  noticed  as  fast  as  the  attentive  mind  is  applied  to  observe  them. 

2.  The  few  objects  which  the  infant  mind  distinguishes  are  constantly  recurring  to  view. 
The  perceptions  of  the  body  within,  and  of  the  sense-world  without,  just  as  fast  as  they  are 
perceived  and  mastered,  and  become  distinct  objects,  return  constantly  to  the  view.     Almost 
Bvery  hour  brings  back  to  the  infant  the  whole  world  of  its  known  objects — the  whole  of  the 
miverse,  so  far  as  explored  by  itself.     All  the  acts  which  it  has  occasion  to  perform,  involving 
special  subjective  or  muscular  sensations,  will  return  again  and  again,  perhaps  a  thousand  times 
a  day,  filling  up  the  whole  horizon  of  its  active  exertions,  ever  recurring  till  some  acquisitioi. 
is  made  or  some  feat  is  successfully  performed. 

3.  All  the  objects  and  parts  of  objects  with  which  the  infant  has  to  do — in  other  words, 
all  its  sense-perceptions — have  an  immediate  relation  to  its  appetites  and  desires.     To  say 
nothing  of  the  inextinguishable  and  unsated  curiosity  which  stimulates  the  attention,  and  puts 
the  soul  upon  every  experiment  which  it  is  capable  of  performing,  most  of  the  objects  which 
the  infant  observes  are  those  which  appeal  directly  to  some  present  gratification.     The  child 
desires  to  walk,  to  reach,  to  stand,  and  its  whole  soul  is  absorbed  in  the  effort  to  perform  these 
feats.     So,  too,  when  it  sees  an  object,  that,  as  a  visible  percept,  attracts  the  eye  ;  if  it  handles 
it  as  well,  and  grasps  or  tries  to  hold  it,  the  satisfaction  to  the  eye  is  coupled  with  the  gratifica- 
tion to  the  hand,  and  every  muscular  movement  that  disappoints  or  gives  success  is  likely  to 
be  noticed  by  reason  of  its  near  relation  to  its  wants  and  longings.     In  one  word,  the  infant 
acquires  the  most  of  its  secondary  perceptions  as  a  means  to  some  pressing  desire  or  urgent 
necessity,  which  is  fitted  to  arouse  and  fix  the  attention. 

4.  When  any  experiment  has  been  successfully  made  in  the  way  of  connecting  the  known 
and  the  untried,  the  gratification  at  success  will  stimulate  to  repetition :  and  this  again  holds 
the  attention  to  every  element  and  step  in  the  process,  till  the  whole  is  fixed  in  the  memory. 
The  infant  repeats  all  its  lessons  as  fast  as  it  learns  them,  because  it  rejoices  over  its  acqui 
eitions. 

5.  The  associating  power  unites  what  observation  notices     So  few  are  the  combinations 
which  it  has  made  as  yet,  and  so  closely  were  they  connected  by  the  original  act  which  first 
bound  them  together,  that  the  one  cannot  be  perceived  or  thought  of  without  its  companion. 
Not  only,  then,  are  the  objects  with  which  the  infant  has  to  do,  few  in  the  comparison,  and 
therefore  constantly  before  the  mind,  but  the  associations  by  which  they  are  connected  wU 


§143.  THE    ACQUIRED    SENSE-PERCEPTIONS.  175 

tend  constantly  to  reproduce  themselves.  If,  for  example,  an  infant  has  observed  that  what  ig 
a  stmded  disc  to  the  eye,  is  a  spherical  surface  to  the  hand,  the  shaded  disc  will  always  remind 
it  of  the  spherical  surface.  It  cannot  see  the  one  without  thinking  of  the  other. 

6.  The  resemblances  which  the  infant  apprehends  are  few,  and  discerned  with  little  effort 
It  might  better  be  said  that  similar  objects  are  at  first  recognized  as  the  same,  rather  than  dis 
eerned  as  similar.  Hence  the  inductions  of  the  infant  are  at  first  simple  acts  of  spontaneous 
memory,  rather  than  beliefs  founded  on  similar  instances.  The  infant,  in  observing  objects  that 
are  alike,  whether  within  or  without  its  own  body,  seems  quite  as  much  to  be  repeating  its  own 
past  experience,  as  performing  acts  and  viewing  objects  that  are  like  those  with  which  it  haa 
before  been  occupied. 

In  induction  proper,  the  similarities  are  remote— not  obvious,  not  directly  discerned,  but 
indirectly  surmised ;  the  data  themselves  are  the  results  of  previous  research  and  reflection, 
instead  of  being  forced  upon  the  attention. 

7.  The  infant  cares  for  the  result,  and,  in  its  eagerness  to  reach  it,  slights  or  disregards  the 
means.  What  it  finds  to  be  true,  occupies  its  attention,  and  not  the  evidence  or  data  by 
which  it  finds  it.  For  example :  if  it  judges  that  an  object  is  spherical,  all  its  attention  and 
interest  are  expended  upon  the  question,  What  is  the  shape  ?  and  none  at  all  upon  whether 
it  is  by  the  shaded  disc,  or  some  other  medium,  that  its  shape  is  ascertained.  So,  too, 
if  the  question  comes  up,  What  is  that  which  I  see — is  it  a  man  or  a  child,  a  house  or  a  barn, 
a  long  stretch  of  road  or  an  upright  triangular  plane?  or,  How  far  off?  how  large?  etc., 
etc. — the  mind  is  wholly  intent  upon  the  answers,  and  does  not  dwell  at  all  upon  the  grounds 
on  which  it  judges,  as  to  what  it  is,  or  how  large,  or  how  far  distant.  It  takes,  and  acts  upon 
the  result,  without  a  thought  of  the  process  by  which  it  was  reached. 

This  habit  is  furthered  by  the  entire  inaptitude  of  the  infant  to  reflect  on  its  own  subjec- 
tive processes,  and  to  analyze  them  into  their  elements.  The  infant  is,  as  we  say,  unconscious 
of  what  it  does ;  it  does  not  reflect  on  the  steps  by  which  it  proceeds  to  a  conclusion ;  that 
of  which  it  is  the  least  aware  is  the  ground  of  its  belief  or  knowledge.  It  judges  and  rea- 
sons on  appropriate  evidence,  and  with  sufficient  grounds,  but  often  it  is  aware  only  that  it 
is  certain  that  something  is  true,  and  not  at  all  conscious  of  the  grounds  on  which  it  became 
certain.  It  exercises  its  powers  without  reflecting  upon  them,  or  knowing  that  it  performs 
a  process  at  all. 

8.  The  freshness  and  energy  of  the  activity  of  the  human  soul  in  the  earliest  periods  of 
its  life  continually  surprise  and  astonish  us.  The  activities  of  the  intellect,  the  freshness  of 
interest,  the  energy  of  will,  the  eagerness  of  the  desires,  the  variety  of  the  experiments  upon 
itself,  upon  nature,  and  man,  are  always  occasions  of  interest  and  surprise  to  older  persona 
whose  powers  are  torpid  or  overwrought,  and  whose  curiosity  is  partially  sated. 

Whatever  objections  may  be  urged  against  the  possibility  that  acqui- 
sitions like  these  should  be  made  in  infancy  and  early  life,  are  satisfactorily 
met  by  the  unquestioned  fact,  that  the  infant  is  constantly  making  experi- 
ments and  falling  into  errors  in  this  very  sphere  of  induction  and  acquired 
knowledge.  It  makes  awkward  attempts  to  grasp,  to  reach,  to  stand,  and 
to  walk  ;  it  misjudges  in  respect  to  the  distance,  form,  and  size,  and  nature 
of  objects  beyond  its  reach  ;  it  is  taught  by  experience,  and  it  applies  the 
lessons  which  experience  imparts,  whether  painful  or  pleasant.  It  is  never 
so  busy  as  in  the  earliest  years  of  its  life.  All  this  while  it  is  chiefly  occu- 
pied with  experiments  upon  the  material  world  and  its  own  bodily  powers, 
all  its  energy  being  employed  in  the  very  direction,  and  being  busied  with 
the  very  objects,  with  which  the  acquired  perceptions  are  concerned. 


176  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  149. 

It  ought  also  to  be  remembered  that,  during  the  same  period,  it  makes 
the  surprising  acquisition  of  language ;  always  of  the  mother-tongue,  and 
if  circumstances  favor,  of  one  or  two  languages  more.  To  acquire  a  new 
language  so  as  to  speak  it  well,  costs  an  adult,  whose  powers  are  well-dis- 
ciplined, many  months,  if  not  years  of  labor.  With  how  much  greater 
ease,  rapidity,  and  perfection,  is  the  same  task  achieved  by  the  infant! 
Surely  it  is  not  so  surprising  that  at  an  age  as  early,  or  even  earlier,  it 
should  master  the  acquired  perceptions.  That  it  does  not  remember  the 
processes  through  which  it  has  gone,  proves  nothing  concerning  the  ques- 
tion whether  they  were  in  fact  gone  over.  We  do  not  remember  one  of 
the  thousand  processes  through  which  we  must  have  passed  in  learning 
to  talk.  And  yet  the  thought  or  the  want  suggests  the  word,  which 
rushes  to  the  tongue  as  if  by  instinct  or  inspiration ;  just  as  we  judge 
of  properties,  size,  and  distance,  without  reflecting  that  we  judge. 

§  149.    It  might  be  urged  in  objection  still  further,  that  there 

Objections  from     ]  J 

the  case  of  ani-  is  no  evidence  that  animals  acquire  any  perceptions.  On  the 
contrary,  observation  shows  decisively  that  they  perceive 
directly  the  distance,  size,  and  properties  of  the  objects  with  which  they  are 
concerned.  The  chicken,  with  the  young  of  certain  birds,  strikes  its  beak 
with  precision  and  success  at  the  food  brought  within  its  reach,  even  be- 
fore it  is  released  from  the  shell.  The  young  of  the  partridge  and  the 
grouse  run  swiftly  through  the  stubble,  avoiding  projecting  objects  as  if 
with  practised  skill.  The  young  of  quadrupeds  run  and  leap  with  no  pre- 
vious discipline  or  training.  In  view  of  these  facts,  it  is  confidently  urged 
that,  if  these  animals  are  taught  by  instinct  to  perceive  correctly,  it  is  not 
to  be  supposed  that  man  would  be  left  to  the  slow  and  uncertain  processes 
of  feeling  his  way  along  to  certain  belief.  Surely  Nature  would  do  as 
much  for  its  noblest  work,  as  for  the  inferior  species.  See  Adam  Smith, 
Essays  of  the  External  Senses ;  Sir  William  Hamilton,  Met.  Lee.,  28 ; 
J.  K.  Abbot,  Sight  and  Touch,  c.  xi. ;  S.  Bailey,  Review  of  Berkeley's 
Theory,  c.  v.  sec.  1. 

To  this  objection  is  to  be  opposed  the  indisputable  fact,  that  the  human 
species  is  trained  to  feel  its  way  on  to  matured  and  trustworthy  acqui 
sitions.  The  reason  why,  is  obvious.  The  animal  has  not  the  capacity 
to  judge  by  signs,  to  that  extent  and  with  that  discrimination  which  would 
qualify  it  to  build  up  the  power  of  perception.  This  deficiency  is  supple- 
mented by  instinct,  about  which  we  know  but  little,  but  know  enough  to 
be  certain  that  it  effects  by  blind  and  unintelligent  impulse  what  reason 
discerns  and  performs  of  itself. 

Man  is  indeed  furnished  with  instincts,  so  far  as  ne  needs  them,  to  impel  and  direct  his 
movements,  before  his  intellect  is  developed,  or  with  tespect  to  objects  of  which  the  intellect 
takes  no  cognizance.  Instinc'  is  a  blind,  unconscious  force  ;  it  is  not  knowledge.  An  instinct 
cannot  discern  color  or  hear  a  sound  ;  much  less  can  it  by  the  eye  discern  extension,  or  out- 
ness, or  shape,  or  size.  These  are  discerned  by  acts  of  knowledge,  and  it  is  for  the  philoao 


§149.  THE   ACQUIRED   SEJSSK-PEitCEPTIOXS,  177 

pher  to  decide  how  much  of  this  knowledge  is  gained  by  direct  and  intuitive  perception,  and 
how  much  by  judgment.  That  question  can  only  be  answered  by  the  observation  of  facts 
within  the  range  of  human  experience,  and  by  analogy,  when  the  phenomena  are  removed 
from  direct  inspection,  or  have  escaped  our  memory. 

Some  facts  are  observed  in  infants  which  are  supposed  to  be  inconsistent  with  these  con- 
clusions, and  to  prove  decisively  that  the  infant,  as  well  as  the  animal,  has  some  so-called 
'  instinctive  perception '  of  distance.  Thus,  for  example,  Adam  Smith  reasons  :  "  A  child  that 
is  scarcely  a  month  old,  stretches  out  its  hands  to  feel  any  little  plaything  that  is  presented 
toward  it."  It  is  more  than  possible  that  in  infancy  the  eye  cannot  be  excited  by  a  visible 
object,  especially  if  the  object  gives  pleasure,  without  a  consentient  movement  of  the  hands, 
and  of  both  hands  and  eyes,  in  the  same  direction.  That  some  provision  should  be  made  for 
such  a  conspiring  movement  or  impulse  to  motion  of  two  members  of  the  body  that  perform 
many  functions  in  common,  may  be  received  as  probable,  and  believed  to  be  true.  But  this 
would  not  prove  that  the  eye,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  term,  discerns  distance.  All  the  move- 
ments with  both  hand  and  eye  show  that  this  is  judged  or  inferred  by  indications  or  signs. 

Reasons  why  the    Important  reasons   suggest  themselves,  however,  why  the 

perceptions      of  fofc>  J 

animals  and  of    animal  is  taught  and  impelled  by  instinct  to  do  at  once,  and 

man  should  dif-          .  ,  .  . 

fer.  with  little  exposure  to  failure,  what  man  can  only  attain  by 

slow  and  painful  acquisition,  and  at  the  risk  of  many  failures  and  suffer- 
ings. The  discipline  to  which  man  is  subjected  has  respect  to  his  moral 
culture  as  well  as  to  his  intellectual  perfection  and  success.  He  needs  to 
learn  patience,  caution,  foresight,  self-distrust,  and  circumspection,  as  well 
as  the  higher  virtues.  All  of  these  are  furthered  by  the  processes  through 
which  he  must  pass  in  gaining  the  acquired  perceptions.  It  is  by  the 
adaptation  of  this  discipline  to  high  moral  uses,  that  is  explained  the  law 
of  nature  by  which  man  is  born  the  most  ignorant  and  helpless  of  all  the 
animals,  and  forced,  as  it  were,  to  make  his  acquisitions  by  his  own 
sagacity,  as  fast  as  he  is  impelled  by  the  appetites,  desires,  and  affections 
which  are  evoked  from  his  at  first  undeveloped  soul. 

We  may  conclude,  then,  that  the  processes  of  the  acquired  perceptions 
are  processes  of  induction,  and  that  they  involve  the  as  yet  unconsidered 
powers  of  representation,  with  association,  and  judgment  by  signs  or  indi- 
cations. In  other  words,  in  the  very  act  of  perception,  usually  considered 
as  the  lowest  and  the  most  elementary  of  all  the  acts  of  the  intellect, 
there  is  required  the  agency  of  the  intuitions  and  relations  which  point  to, 
and  are  involved  in  the  very  highest  capacities  of  intelligence.  This  is  a 
striking  instance  of  the  principle  enounced  at  the  outset,  that  no  faculty 
of  the  intellect  can  act  apart  from  the  rest.  We  have  found  that,  in  the 
very  lowest  of  all,  the  rudimentary  action  of  the  very  highest  must  be 
present,  in  order  that  the  act  may  be  human  and  rational. 
12 


178  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  £  150 


CHAPTER  VL 


DEVELOPMENT  AND   GROWTH   OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

WE  have  considered  what  is  essential  to  sense-perception  as  an  original  act  of  the  soul,  and 
how  it  is  that  the  soul  acquires  the  power  and  skill  to  use  one  perception  in  place  of 
another.  The  first  of  these  powers  is  an  original  endowment ;  the  second  is  a  developed 
capacity.  The  examples  of  the  development  of  this  power  which  we  have  considered  all 
occur  under  our  direct  observation.  Experience  is  a  decisive  witness  that  the  ability  to 
make  these  combinations  is  acquired  by  every  numan  being,  by  processes  which  we  can 
more  or  less  distinctly  analyze.  The  exercise  of  this  power  involves  all  the  constituents 
of  induction. 

§  150.  We  propose  next  to  treat  of  the  acquisitions  which 

Nature,  interest,  . 

and  difficulty  of  are  made  before  we  can  observe  so  as  to  remember ;  t.  e.,  to 
trace  the  growth  and  development  of  the  sense-perceptions 
in  earliest  infancy.  We  take  our  guidance  from  what  we  have  observed 
of  those  processes  which  we  are  certain  that  we  acquire,  and,  going  back 
to  that  period  of  which  memory  brings  no  report,  we  ask,  From  what 
beginnings,  in  what  order,  and  by  what  steps  does  the  infant  mind  develop 
and  mature  the  power  of  sense-perception  of  which  it  finds  itself  in  pos- 
session, when  it  awakes  to  distinct  and  remembered  consciousness  ? 

The  problem  is  full  of  interest.  It  seems  like  a  proposal  to  revive  the 
experience  of  our  earliest  years,  to  restore,  as  it  were,  the  forgotten  past 
of  our  lives — the  period  when  our  curiosity  was  eager,  our  energy  un- 
abated, our  hopes  were  boundless,  and  the  universe  was  beckoning  to  us 
to  explore  and  enjoy  its  infinitude  There  is  a  mystery  about  those 
months  and  years  which  we  would  fain  unravel,  which  tempts  and  tan- 
talizes us  because  of  its  apparent  darkness  and  obscurity.  The  difficulty 
and  apparent  insuperableness  of  the  problem  incite  and  challenge  us  to 
make  the  effort  to  follow  the  successive  acts  by  which  we  '  build  up  the 
being  which  we  are.' 

The  difficulty  which  attends  the  effort  arises  from  the  fact  that  it  is 
impossible,  by  memory,  to  bring  back  a  single  fragment  of  our  infant  life. 
We  cannot  penetrate  the  darkness  and  obscurity  which  overhang  thia 
entire  period  of  our  existence.  Could  we  revive  but  a  single  isolated  por- 
tion, one  sole  and  separate  act  or  state,  when  our  perceptive  power  was 
yet  rudimental,  it  would  give  us  a  clue  by  which  to  thread  our  way  back 
ward  through  this  entangled  maze,  till  we  had  reached  the  simple  ele- 
ments with  which  we  began  ;  or,  returning  upon  our  steps,  we  could  com- 
bine these  elements  in  the  order  of  their  actual  accretion  and  growth. 


g  151.  DEVELOPMENT   AND   GROWTH    OF   SEXSE-PEKCEPTION.  179 

Who  can  tell  what  a  baby  thinks  ? 
Who  can  follow  the  gossamer  links 

By  which  the  manikin  feels  his  way 
Out  from  the  shore  of  the  great  unknown, 
Blind,  and  wailing,  and  alone, 

Into  the  light  of  day  ? 

***** 
What  does  he  think  of  his  mother's  eyes  ? 

What  does  he  think  of  his  mother's  hair  ? 
What  of  the  cradle-roof,  that  flies 

Forward  and  backward  through  the  air  ? 
What  does  he  think  of  his  mother's  breast — 

Bare  and  beautiful,  smooth  and  white — 

Seeking  it  ever  with  fresh  delight — 
Cup  of  his  life  and  couch  of  his  rest? 
What  does  he  think  when  her  quick  embrace 
Presses  his  hand,  and  buries  his  face, 
Deep  where  the  heart-throbs  sink  and  swell, 
With  a  tenderness  she  ne'er  can  tell  ?  ete. 

J.  G.  HOLLAND.— Bitter- Sweet, 

rhe  problem Pei>    g  151.   But  the  problem,  though  difficult,  is  not  insolvablo. 

plexing   to    the      e  .  r  .      .  .      , 

imagination,  but    To  the  iudgment  only  is  it  explicable,  but  not  to  the  unaeri- 

not  insolvable  to  .          J  _?  J  .  & 

the  intellect  nation.  We  can  demonstrate  what  our  infant  life  must  have 
been,  but  we  cannot  imagine  how  this  infant  life  must  have  seemed.  We 
cannot  expect  to  recall  to  the  memory  any  actual  experience  of  our  own, 
when  all  visible  objects  were  depicted  on  an  extended  plane,  without  dis- 
tance or  depth.  Nor  can  we,  by  imagination,  feign  such  an  experience. 
The  effort  to  do  either  must  be  fruitless.  The  new  elements  which  we 
have  incorporated  with  our  constant  habitudes  of  perception  and  knowl- 
edge we  can  never  throw  off.  We  cannot  divest  ourselves  of  the  new 
growth  which  has  overgrown  the  original  germ.  We  must  not  expect,  by 
any  analysis,  to  restore  the  distinct  experience  of  our  infant  perceptions, 
any  more  than  we  can  a  second  time  make  real  and  rational  the  feelings 
of  our  infancy.  No  man  can  imagine  himself  to  be  a  child,  for  the  sim- 
ple reason  that  in  all  things  he  must  think  and  feel  as  a  man. 

To  attempt  to  retrace  and  thus  to  reconstruct  the  processes  of  the  earli- 
est perceptions  of  childhood,  is  not  irrational.  We  have  at  our  command 
the  materials  with  which  to  prosecute  our  analysis  and  to  construct  our 
synthesis.  These  are  the  known  facts  of  experience  and  observation 
within  our  conscious  experience,  the  facts  observed  of  infants  and  very 
young  children,  and  the  probable  conclusions  which  analogy  warrants  us 
in  deriving  from  both. 

The  facts  which  are  established  by  our  own  observation  in 

Data          and  * 

grounds  of  infer-  respect  to  the  grounds  and  the  processes  of  the  perceptions 
which  we  know  to  be  acquired,  the  exposure  to  constant 
mistakes  in  these  perceptions,  and  the  invalid  plausibility  of  the  objections 
which  may  be  urged  against  these  demonstrated  facts,  are  all  pertinent, 
and  most  of  them  decisive,  when  applied  to  the  theories  which  we  form 
of  infantile  development.  We  are  justified  in  applying  to  the  unknown 
.he  explanations  which  reason  forces  us  to  accept  in  respect  to  the  known 


180  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  152 

All  that  we  observe  of  the  actions  of  infants  and  young  children  is  entirely  consist- 
ent with  the  theory,  that  they  develop  the  power  of  perception  by  many  experiments  and 
many  mistakes.  Their  experiments  and  errors  can  only  be  explained  in  consistency  with  thii 
view. 

The  known  methods  and  laws  of  nature  in  the  education  of  men  and  of  animals  give  the 
strongest  confirmation  to  these  conclusions.  We  rely  with  confidence  upon  the  view  that,  so 
far  as  it  is  possible  to  account  for  the  acquired  perceptions  by  the  theory  of  intelligent  activity 
rather  than  by  that  of  blind  instinct,  so  far  we  are  bound  to  go.  Where  intelligent  activity 
cannot  be  presumed  or  proved,  there  instinct  and  intuition  must  be  assumed. 

Synthesis  and  combination,  however,  cannot  account  for  every  process  or  solve  every 
problem.  There  must  be  original  elements  with  which  to  begin,  or  else  there  would  be  noth- 
ing with  which  to  combine,  or  which  could  be  added  when  it  was  sought  for.  There  must  also 
be  capacities  or  powers  of  original  knowledge,  beyond  or  behind  which  we  cannot  go  in  our 
analysis ;  which  capacities,  indeed,  give  the  elements  which  we  evolve  by  analysis.  Other- 
wise the  problem  would  be — given  the  power  to  know  nothing  by  original  activity,  show  how 
every  thing  can  be  known  by  the  simple  force  of  combination  or  substitution,  with  nothing 
to  combine  or  substitute. 

To  this  extreme  the  advocates  of  the  associational  psychology  are  continually  driven  in 
their  efforts  to  explain  by  a  single  law  our  knowledge  and  beliefs — our  knowledge  of  time, 
space,  of  the  laws  of  matter  and  of  spirit,  of  the  very  principles  of  induction,  and  of  all 
necessary  truths,  even  the  very  powers  and  passions  of  the  soul.  They  would  generate  *  insep- 
arable associations  ; '  but  from  what,  they  do  not  so  satisfactorily  show  (§  43). 

The  intellect  and    §  152'   These  things  being  premised,  we  observe :   The  first 
soul    before    condition  in  which  the  soul  may  be  supposed  to  exist  before 

S6U8C -perception  *  K* 

begins.  the  beginnings  of  conscious  activity  is  nearly  allied  to  that 

of  sleep  undisturbed  by  dreams,  or  of  extreme  faintness,  in  which  the 
most  indistinct  and  feeblest  sensations  possible  are  experienced,  without 
distinct  perception.  "  In  Schlafes  Armen  wird  das  Kind  zur  Welt  gebo 
r&Ji?  (A.  Helfferich.)  These  states  approach  most  nearly  to  what  we 
may  suppose  to  be  the  elementary  condition  of  the  soul,  with  this  differ 
ence,  however,  that  we  carry  into  the  sleep  and  faintness  of  adult  years 
some  dim  and  disturbing  images  from  our  waking  consciousness.  The 
undeveloped  condition  of  man  is  not  chaotic  in  the  sense  of  being  con- 
fused, disturbed,  or  bewildered  ;  it  is  rather  in  that  vague  and  low  con- 
dition of  sense-perception  which  comes  from  the  activity  of  those  mus- 
cular and  vital  sensations  which  belong  to  the  processes  of  the  animal  life. 
These  sensations,  when  closely  attended  to  in  later  knowledge,  are  at  best 
but  vaguely  and  indefinitely  conceived ;  and  when  they  fill  up  the  whole 
world  of  our  conscious  life,  they  must  be  obscure  indeed.  The  activities 
to  which  these  sensations  excite  are  the  result  of  the  reflex  actions  of 
the  nervous  organism,  and  of  those  vital  and  animal  instincts  which  are 
as  blind  and  unintelligent. 

The  beginnings    From  this  condition  the  soul  is  aroused  when  it  begins  to 
and      develop-    attend  either  to  its  sensational  condition,  or  to  the  responsive 

ment    ot   at  ten- 

ti°n-  perceptional  act.    The  soul  scarcely  can  be  said  to  have  sen 

eations  even,  till  it  is  conscious  of  some  sharp  or  positive  experience  oi 


§  153.  DEVELOPMENT   AND   GROWTH    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  181 

pain  cr  pleasure.     Much  less  can  it  be  said  to  perceive,  till  its  attention  is 
aroused,  repeated,  and  fixed  upon  some  single  sensible  percept. 

We  are  not  to  suppose  that  the  attention,  in  either  of  these  directions,  is  developed  at  a 
single  bound,  or  that  its  energy  is  attained  by  one  spasm  of  effort ;  nor  that  the  soul  maintains 
rtaelf  always  in  the  attent  condition  which  it  at  first  ocasionally  attains.  All  analogies  from 
the  states  of  our  mature  experience  would  lead  us  to  believe  that  the  soul  now  rises  into  a  mo- 
ment's fixed  attention,  and  then  sinks  again  to  blank  inanition.  Again,  it  is  roused  a  second 
time  by  some  earnest  and  intruding  solicitation,  attends  for  an  instant,  and  relapses  a  second 
time  into  the  merely  instinctive  life. 

Nor,  again,  are  we  to  believe  that  the  attention  can  only  be  aroused  or  occupied  by  a 
single  sense  at  once,  or  that,  consequently,  it  is  by  successive  energizings  of  each  sense  and 
each  object  taken  one  by  one,  that  the  several  powers  of  sense-perception  are  distinctly  devel- 
oped and  matured.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  far  more  rational  to  believe  that  contrast  stimu- 
lates attention,  and  that  attention  is  truly  and  eminently  discrimination,  holding  the  mind  to 
one  object  as  necessary  to  distinguish  it  from  another,  and  sending  it  back  to  the  second  object 
from  which  it  was  distinguished,  by  reaction  from  the  very  effort  with  which  it  gave  itself  to 
the  first. 

This  view  of  attention  is  conformed  entirely  to  the  law  of  its  movements  within  our  expe- 
rience, and  it  makes  it  much  easier  to  comprehend  how  the  several  senses  may  be  developed 
together,  and  how  the  objects  appropriate  to  each  may  readily  blend  into  one. 

8  153.  The  sense-perceptions  which  are  first  developed  are 

Muscular      and      «  r 

vital  perceptions    doubtless  tne  muscular  and  vital.     It,  however,  we  perceive 

first  developed.  .  -111^111 

only  so  far  as  we  attend,  it  may  be  doubtlul  whether  we 
ought  to  call  them  sense-perceptions  till  they  are  connected  with  those  per- 
ceptions which  are  more  positive  and  objective,  as  the  perceptions  of  sight 
and  touch,  by  connection  with  which  they  render  their  most  important  ser- 
vice as  perceptions. 

We  should  expect,  for  certain  reasons,  that  the  three  senses 
taste'  °^  hearm£>  taste5  an(l  smell,  would  spring  into  activity  next 

in  order,  as  being  nearest  akin  to  the  first  and  as  requiring 
a  less  persistent  and  a  less  intellectual  effort.  Observation  does  not, 
however,  confirm  these  anticipations.  The  sense  of  hearing  is  used,  in 
some  feeble  degree,  a  few  days  after  birth,  scarcely  in  such  a  manner  or 
degree  as  to  be  called  attentive  or  discriminating.  The  sense  of  taste  is 
still  later.  At  first,  the  infant  swallows  medicine  as  readily  as  milk.  It 
is  not  till  some  four  weeks  have  elapsed  that  it  distinguishes  the  one 
from  the  other.  Later  still  is  exercised  the  sense  of  smell.  Kussmaul 
says  taste  and  smell  are  active  from  the  first.  Hearing  only  is  feebly 
developed.  Hearing  remains  the  longest,  as  death  comes  on. 

These  facts,  furnished  by  observation,  when  regarded  from  another  point  of  view  seem 
'.ess  surprising.  These  sense-perceptions  of  themselves  are  of  little  service.  They  can  be 
applied  to  no  use,  either  of  science  or  curiosity,  till  they  are  connected  with  the  objects  which 
excite  them,  and  indicate  some  property  or  relation.  It  is  consistent  with  the  economy 
of  nati/re  that  they  should  not  be  called  into  action  till  the  time  of  their  useful  activity  has 
tome.  Till  then,  the  capacity  for  their  exercise  is  simply  dormant  and  undeveloped.  (Cf 


182  THE   HTJMAN  INTELLECT.  §153 

Loebisch,  Die  Seek  des  Kindes  in  ihren  EntwicJcelungen,  2  Aufl.,  Wieu,  1864  ;  also  Kussmaul 
Untersuchungen  iiber  das  Seelenleben  des  neugeborenen  Menschen,  Leipzig,  1859.) 

§  154.  It  is  with  the  eye  and  the  hand  that  the  soul  begins 
handT6  a°which  fixedly  to  attend,  and,  of  course,  effectively  to  perceive.  But 
with  which  does  it  first  begin — with  the  eye,  or  with  the 
hand  ?  It  is  impossible  to  answer.  Perhaps  it  were  safer  and  more  exact 
to 'say  that  it  begins  with  neither  alone,  but  with  both — i.  e.,  each  aids  the 
other,  till,  by  the  help  of  both  combined,  the  mind  reaches  the  distinct 
perception  of  external  and  spatial  objects. 

We  begin  with  the  hand,  and  the  sense  of  touch  as  the  sense  of 
which  no  human  being  can  possibly  be  deprived.  Whatever  may  be  true 
of  the  eye,  we  are  certain  that  intelligent  perception  by  touch  must  be 
acquired  very  early. 

To  the  blind,  these  perceptions  must  always  take  the  place  of  the  perceptions  of  sight. 
To  the  blind,  they  must  give  the  perceptions  of  the  world  of  matter  as  separate  from  and 
external  to  the  animated  body,  as  also  the  various  relations  of  extension  and  space.  If  it  be 
supposed  that  touch  is  normally  developed  before  sight  begins  to  be  matured,  then  every 
human  being  must  learn  to  perceive  for  a  while  as  though  he  were  blind.  He  must  learn  to 
combine  the  acquired  perceptions,  as  a  blind  man  always  does.  When  sight  awakes,  it  is  sim- 
ply to  aid  and  facilitate  the  process,  by  giving  it  greater  rapidity  and  precision. 

We  begin,  then,  with  touch.  Our  problem  is,  to  show  how,  • 
with  ^  touch,  we  acquire  the  perception  of  extension  and  of  out- 
ness or  externality — by  which  we  mean  separableness  from 
the  body ;  or  the  not-body.  We  have  before  assumed  that,  by  original 
perception,  we  do  through  each  of  the  senses  distinguish  the  body  from 
the  spirit,  and  also  know  the  sense-percept  itself  as  spatial.  These  rela- 
tions being  given  to  touch  as  an  original  power,  it  remains  for  us  to  ask 
how  we  learn  by  touch  to  separate  the  not-body  from  the  body,  and  how 
we  learn  the  relations  of  this  not-body  to  space.  It  is  to  be  remem- 
bered, that  what  we  know  by  original  perception  is  that  non-e^o,  which  is 
distinguished  from  the  sentient  ego,  or  the  ego  which  animates  the  senso- 
rium.  We  are  now  to  inquire  into  the  process  by  which  the  knowledge 
of  the  non-e^o  as  the  not-body,  is  attained. 

8  155.  First :  We  acquire  the  knowledge  of  the  not-body  by 

Extra- organic     '  .          ,  ,  J      J 

non-ego;  how  contrasting  the  muscular  and  tactual  perceptions.  The  mus- 
cular and  tactual  perceptions  we  suppose  to  be  familiarly 
known.  By  means  of  the  distinguished  muscular  sensations  we  perceive 
the  interior  of  the  body  which  the  spirit  inhabits  and  controls.  We 
know'its  interior  parts  through  the  vague  but  real  sensations  which  are 
experienced  in  the  use  of  the  various  muscles  and  the  action  of  the  sev- 
eral vital  organs.  But  as  yet  we  know  no  exterior  world.  Even  when 
we  touch  what  are  afterwards  discovered  to  be  material  objects,  we  have 
only  the  tactual  perceptions  which  ensue  on  the  application  of  the  skin  to 
whatever  the  object  may  be.  When  the  infant  lays  its  hand  on  a  flat  and 


§  155.  DEVELOPMENT   AND    GROWTH    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  183 

smooth  surface,  it  perceives  a  portion  of  its  own  body  in  a  given  state  of 
activity.  If  the  surface  is  triangular,  a  corresponding  portion  of  the  sur- 
face is  similarly  excited,  and  so  on.  As  the  muscular  sensations  give  us 
the  knowledge  of  the  interior  space  that  the  sensorium  occupies,  so  the 
tactual  sensations  give  the  knowledge  of  its  bounding  or  limiting  enclo- 
sure. We  discover  this  limit  by  impinging  it  in  every  part  upon  sur- 
rounding objects,  and  thus  exciting  it  to  sentient  activity.  In  the  warm 
surroundings  of  a  bath,  or  the  bed,  or  a  heated  apartment,  the  surface  of 
the  body  is  defined  by  a  gentle  glow.  If  the  temperature  is  cool,  the 
same  surface  is  made  known  to  the  soul  by  a  rough  and  comfortless  chill, 
that  creeps  over  and  pinches  the  sensitive  wrapping. 

Combination  of  ^econ(i :  The  muscular  and  tactual  perceptions  bein-g  famil- 
tacSiar  ercend  ^ar^7  known  and  sharply  distinguished,  with  the  spatial  rela- 
ti°*s-  tion  of  the  interior  of  the  body  which  they  involve,  the 

experimenter  begins  to  combine  the  two  in  novel  applications.  One  hand 
is  placed  on  another,  or  on  the  arm,  or  on  the  face,  or  any  part  of  the 
body.  A  new  perception  is  the  consequence ;  the  muscular  sensations 
beneath  the  surface  touching  and  the  surface  touched  are  the  same  as 
before.  Each  touching  surface,  taken  apart,  is  affected  as  before  when 
brought  in  contact  with  a  material  object ;  but  in  each  touching  surface 
there  is  added  the  perception  of  touching  and  of  being  touched. 

The  sense-perception  which  is  experienced  on  touching  a  table  is  clearly  distinguished 
from  that  which  is  given  when  one's  arm  or  hand  is  touched.  This  perception  is  more  or  less 
vhid  and  acute  as  greater  or  less  pressure  is  applied.  By  noticing  this  distinction,  the  soul 
takes  its  first  lesson  in  learning  to  distinguish  its  own  body  from  that  which  is  not  its  own 
body.  It  places  its  first  uncertain  step  upon  the  frail  and  swaying  bridge  that  spans  the  gulf 
which  divides  the  material  universe  into  two  portions — the  animated  body,  and  that  which  is 
beyond.  Its  own  body  is  known  by  the  positive  experience  of  muscular  sensations  which  it 
gives,  limited  by  tactual  sensations  at  its  periphery.  Moreover,  when  it  is  touched  by  the 
hand,  a  special  form  of  tactual  sensation  is  experienced.  The  absence  of  these  muscular 
sense-perceptions,  when  touched,  distinguish  a  certain  class  of  objects  as  diverse  from  all  those 
which  have  them.  This  is  the  distinguishing  mark  of  extra-corporeal  objects.  It  is  not,  how- 
ever, enough  that  objects  are  distinguished  as  extra-corporeal.  They  must  be  also  known  as 
diverse  in  space — i.  e.,  they  must  be  known  as  extended,  and  thereby  involving  a  space  which 
is  beyond  or  without  the  body.  This  suggests  the  third  acquisition. 

Obiects  corporeal  and  extra-corporeal  can  be  grasped  by  the 

b«ace  -  relations  J  ,.,.  .        ,  . 

of  the  extra-or-    hand,  and  in  this  wav  can  be  known  as  occupy  ins:  space. 

ganic;    how  ac-  -u*  v  •   /  v      i 

quired.  When  a  blind  man  grasps  his  own  arm  or  wrist,  he  knows 

certain  muscular  sensations  as  extended  through  and  posited  in  the  space 
within  the  opposite  surfaces  that  he  touches.  If  his  wrist  is  withdrawn 
from  the  enclosing  grasp,  and  an  extra-corporeal  object  is  inserted  in  its 
place,  the  adjustments  of  the  grasping  hand  are  the  same  as  before,  the 
dim  knowledge  of  the  space  which  these  adjustments  involve  is  also  the 
lame.  All  is  the  same,  only  there  is  no  direct  perception  by  the  sensa- 
tions located  within  the  wrist.  The  stick  is  felt  by  tactual  perception  in 


1 34  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  155 

all  its  directions  of  surface.  So  far  as  any  knowledge  of  suiface  by  con- 
tact is  concerned,  it  is  in  both  cases  the  same.  The  wrist  is  known  by 
direct  perception  as  space-filling.  The  enclosing  hand  is  a  measure  of  the 
space  enclosed.  The  same  enclosing  or  grasping  hand  measures  'the  sur- 
face of  another  body,  but  this  body  yields  no  muscular  percepts  involving 
extension.  It  occupies,  however,  precisely  the  space  which  the  other 
tilled.  It  is  known,  therefore,  as  space-filling,  and  as  filling  other  space 
than  that  of  the  body.  The  mind  has  made  the  acquaintance  of  extra- 
corporeal  objects  as  extended  in  space,  and  it  has  made  it  on  the  au- 
thority of  touch  alone. 

In  this  way  is  it  possible  for  the  mind,  by  touch  alone,  to  reach  the  extra-corporeal  world, 
and  to  know  that  all  its  objects,  like  the  body  with  which  it  is  directly  connected,  occupy 
epace.  By  the  motion  of  its  own  limbs,  known  and  judged  by  muscular  sensations,  it  soon 
learns  direction  in  space.  By  the  comparison  of  its  direct  experience  of  the  interior  of  the 
body  as  revealed  by  muscular  perceptions,  and  of  the  exterior  as  revealed  by  the  tactual,  it 
learns  the  difference  between  the  outside  and  inside  of  its  own  body,  and  of  any  material 
object.  By  the  repeated  application  of  any  portion  of  the  surface  of  the  body  as  a  measuring 
unit,  it  learns  size.  After  it  has  learned  what  a  single  step  signifies,  by  repeating  the  number 
of  steps  which  must  be  taken  to  reach  an  object  that  is  remote,  it  learns  distance.  By  study- 
ing closely  the  other  indications  which  touch  reveals,  it  masters  all  the  variety  of  knowledge 
of  material  things  which  the  combinations  of  touch  can  reveal.  The  processes  of  the  blind 
are  slowly  and  painfully  performed,  but  they  are  shut  up  to  make  the  most  of  them  by  the 
necessities  of  their  condition. 

These  processes  are  all  acquired,  and  that  which  is  acquired  in  them  all  is  the  single 
power  to  use  one  percept  as  the  sign  of  another,  or  of  some  relation  which  is  indicated  by  the 
percept  as  its  invariable  attendant — e.  <?.,  outness,  extension,  direction,  distance,  size,  and  the 
like. 

The  theory  of  sense-perception,  taught  in  this  volume,  coincides  with  the  theories  of 
Hamilton's  the-  John  Muller  and  Sir  William  Hamilton,  so  far  as  they  agree,  viz.,  that  we  have  a  direct 
ception  *  of  ^the  Or  intuitive  perception  of  the  extended  organism,  and  an  indirect  or  acquired  perception 
"xtra-organic.  °f  extra-organic  matter.  Muller  explains  the  last  process,  substantially  as  we  have 

done,  though  with  less  detail.  Hamilton  explains  it  thus :  "  The  existence  of  an  extra- 
organic  world  is  apprehended  *  *  *  in  the  consciousness  that  our  locomotive  energy  is  resisted,  and  not 
resisted  by  aught  in  our  organism  itself.  For  in  the  consciousness  of  being  thus  resisted  is  involved  as  a 
correlative,  the  consciousness  of  a  resisting  something."  Appendix  to  Works  of  Held,  Note  D*,  28;  cf.  20, 
•>3,  21,  25,  26  ;  cf  864,  Note  D. 

This  explanation  of  the  process  supposes  the  application  of  the  relation  of  causation.  For  it  repre- 
sents the  locomotive  energy  as  a  causative  energy  which,  unresisted,  would  produce  certain  effects,  which 
effects  are  overborne  or  set  aside  by  an  agent  which  is  known  to  be  not  the  ego  or  the  organism  with  which 
t>he  ego  is  connected.  From  the  presence  of  this  new  and  strange  effect,  the  existence  of  an  extra-organic 
agent  is  inferred.  The  theory  is  in  principle  the  same  with  that  of  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  which  we  have 
already  noticed  (§  130),  with  this  difference,  that  Brown  supposes  the  cause  and  its  activities  to  be  both 
{spiritual  and  non- extended,  while  Hamilton  supposes  the  locomotive  energy  to  be  known  directly  as 
pxtended.  The  validity  of  the  inference  supposed  to  be  derived,  depends  on  the  perception  of  a  differing 
event  in  each  of  the  two  cases,  and  on  the  apprehension  of  each  as  an  effect  requiring  a  cause  for  its 
explanation.  The  first  of  these  wi\l  not  be  denied.  The  second  is  not  so  obvious  and  certain.  To  this  is 
essential  that  the  locomotive  energy  as  a  causal  energy  should  be  regarded  as  capable  of  an  effect,  and  this 
effect  must  be  known  as  intra-organic.  If  the  locomotive  energy  is  connected  with  this  effect  as  its  cause, 
>'t  must  be  by  the  design  to  produce  this  effect,  which  designed  effect  is  not  reached.  This  would  require  a 
uigher  development  of  the  reflective  consciousness,  than  can  be  supposed  at  the  early  period  when  the 
Infant  apprehends  the  extra-organic,  or  the  non-ego.  It  seems  more  rational  to  account  for  it  as  we  have 
done,  by  the  presence  and  absence  of  certain  tactual  and  muscular  sense-perceptions.  "When  the  reflective 
consciousness  has  been  developed  and  the  relation  of  causation  is  familiarly  handled  by  the  mind,  thif 
process  would  confirm  ard  make  definite  our  belief  of  extra-organic  beings  and  agents. 


5166.  DEVELOPMENT   AND    GROWTH    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTION.  185 

A  more  serious  difficulty  is  involved  in  Hamilton's  theory— the  same,  indeed,  which  in  another  way  u 
fatal  to  that  of  Brown  (cf.  §  131),  viz.,  it  seems  not  to  explain  how  in  the  necessity  of  finding  for  this  effect 
an  extra- organic  cause,  this  "  correlative"  "resisting  something"  must  be  shown  to  be  also  extended.  The 
agent,  the  ego,  as  a  percipient  and  actor  is  not  extended,  why  may  not  the  extra-organic  agent  and  non-egt 
be  non-extended,  or  why  must  it  be  extended?  How  is  it  shown  to  be  correlative  so  far  as  to  be  extended, 
except  it  is  taken  to  be  the  analogon  of  the  extended  organism,  i.  e.,  like  it  in  being  spatial  in  many 
percepts,  etc.,  etc.,  but  unlike  it  in  certain  other  sense-percepts,  as  we  have  explained. 

With  the  e  e  §1^6.  Let,  now,  the  eye  be  opened,  after  all  the  acquisitions 
be°tnsr  pr°blem  nave  Deen  made  which  are  possible  to  touch,  and  another 

duty  would  be  imposed,  viz.,  the  duty  of  connecting  the  per- 
ceptions of  the  eye  with  those  appropriate  to  the  hand.  This  duty  is,  in 
fact,  performed  by  every  person  born  blind,  to  whom  sight  is  given  in 
later  years.  In  the  developments  of  infancy,  the  eye  performs  a  service 
similar  to  that  which  it  renders  in  the  acquisitions  made  by  the  blind  in 
mature  life  ;  with  this  difference,  that  the  eye  does  not  wait  to  furnish  its 
aid  till  the  hand  has  done  all  that  it  can  possibly  accomplish  without  it. 
When  the  eye  and  the  hand  are  developed  together,  by  their  mutual  aid 
they  greatly  shorten  the  processes  of  acquisition,  and  of  making  the 
results  more  sure.  What  each  can  do  apart,  we  have  already  considered. 
It  is  fair  to  infer  that  in  the  processes  by  which  infancy  makes  its  acqui- 
sitions, that  what  each  can  do  best  it  will  perform  for  the  other.  If  the 
touch  gives  the  first  distinct  knowledge  of  the  third  dimension  of  space, 
it  places  this  knowledge  at  the  service  of  the  eye.  The  eye,  if  it  cannot 
directly  discern  distance,  can  yet  observe  and  interpret  the  signs  of  dis- 
tance. The  hand  can  determine  the  relative  distances  of  objects  only 
within  its  reach ;  or  it  must  measure  off  distance  by  counting  its  steps, 
carrying  the  body  as  it  goes.  But  the  eye  can,  by  a  glance,  reach  for  rods 
and  furlongs  and  miles,  and  measure  with  sufficient  accuracy  for  the  com- 
mon occasions  of  life.  In  respect  to  direction,  how  helpless  is  the  hand 
without  the  eye.  If  we  hold  a  ring  with  one  hand,  and,  with  closed  eyes, 
seek  to  thrust  a  stick  through  it  by  a  single  effort,  we  can  do  it  with  little 
precision.  Even  the  blind  must  be  cautious  and  slow  in  the  movement, 
and  uncertain  of  the  result.  But  the  eye  fixes  its  gaze  on  the  object,  and 
directs  the  practised  muscles  to  strike  the  mark  with  the  nicest  precision. 
By  the  eye,  the  muscles  can  be  adjusted  to  sling  a  stone,  to  hurl  a  lance, 
to  aim  the  /ifle  even  at  moving  objects,  and  to  strike  these  objects  with 
marvellous  accuracy.  All  these  feats  would  be  impossible  without  the 
eye.  They  are  accomplished  with  the  aid  of  the  eye  only  as  the  muscles 
are  so  adjusted,  by  means  of  the  sensations  which  indicate  their  position, 
as  to  signify  that  through  these  adjustments  the  mark  can  be  reached  OE 
which  the  eye  is  fixed. 

That  the  eye  and  the  hand  must  conspire  in  infancy,  is  not  only 
*bseryatious  fairiy  to  be  inferred,  but  it  is  evident  from  observation  of  the 

.pon  infante.  » 

experiments  which  the  infant  is  continually  making  with  both. 
First '  ft  is  evident  that  the  infant  learns  to  touch  ;  by  which  we  mean  not  merely  that  il 


186  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  157- 

learns  to  use  its  bands,  but  tbat  it  learns  to  use  tbem  with  intelligence,  and  to  interpret  itg 
touch-perceptions.  Second :  it  is  equally  evident  that  it  learns  not  only  to  use  its  ej  es  in  see- 
ing, and  to  judge  what  its  sight-perceptions  signify,  but  also  to  combine  its  sight  and  touch- 
perceptions  together,  and  makes  the  one  to  serve  as  the  signs  of  the  other. 

As  the  eye  of  the  infant  rolls  or  rests  in  the  socket,  or  is  caught  for  an  instant  by  the 
excitement  of  the  stimulating  light,  so  the  hands  and  arms,  at  first,  hang  uselessly  from  the 
shoulders,  or  dangle  hither  and  thither,  resting  on  whatever  may  sustain  them.  They  can 
neither  grasp  nor  hold,  much  less  can  they  be  carried  to  a  point  on  which  desire  fixes  the  eye; 
nor  can  they,  in  obedience  to  desire,  hold  and  carry  an  object,  as  food  to  the  mouth,  or  release 
it  when  it  is  brought  to  its  destined  place.  All  these  uses  of  the  hand  must  be  learned  by 
attention.  That  they  are  learned,  is  evident  from  the  aimless  use  of  the  hands  at  first,  from 
the  many  experiments,  and  failures,  and  final  successes  which  follow,  and  from  the  gratification 
that  is  manifested  at  success. 

The  earliest  objects  which  attract  the  persistent  attention  of  the  infant's  eye  are  the 
hands.  As  these  are  to  be  the  instruments  of  its  activity  and  the  arbiters  of  its  earthly  des- 
tiny, it  is  natural  and  appropriate  that  they  should  occupy  the  largest  share  of  its  earliest 
notice.  It  is  impossible  that  it  should  be  otherwise  for  two  or  three  reasons.  They  are 
always  before  its  eyes,  ever  flitting  to  and  fro  in  aimless  and  convulsive  movements,  and  chal- 
lenging its  notice  as  they  are  passing  across  its  limited  field  of  vision.  As  if  to  concentrate 
the  whole  energy  of  the  attention  upon  the  action  of  the  hands,  the  infant  is  short-sighted, 
and,  till  it  is  four  months  old,  observes  only  the  nearest  objects,  and  then  objects  somewhat 
more  remote,  till,  by  gradual  advances,  the  whole  spectacle  of  the  universe  is  unveiled  and 
opened  to  the  view.  Cf.  Loebisch,  p.  28. 

§  157.  But  before  we  can  connect  the  percepts  of  touch  with 
Development  of  those  of  sight,  we  must  trace  for  a  while  the  development 

of  the  eye.  Vision  seems  to  begin  at  that  early  period  when 
the  bright  and  steady  light  attracts  and  holds  the  infant's  eye,  or  when,  as 
it  moves,  it  carries  the  eye  with  itself  wherever  it  leads.  Certain  objects 
that  glisten  with  reflected  rays,  or  that  are  brilliant  with  intense  color,  ai  s 
soon  separated  from  the  background  of  undistinguished  things  against 
which  they  are  projected,  or  athwart  which  they  are  moved.  It  is  not 
easy  to  decide  how  much  of  intellectual  perception  attends  this  early  mov- 
ing and  fixing  of  the  eyes,  and  how  much  is  an  unconscious  and  reflex 
response  of  the  nervous  organism  to  the  stimulating  light.  The  eye  is  so 
constructed  that  only  a  single  portion  of  the  retina  can  give  a  perfect 
image  of  an  object  that  comes  within  the  field  of  view ;  so  that,  when  a 
bright  object  comes  before  the  eye  at  all,  it  will  hold  or  draw  the  eye  to 
or  after  it,  by  the  reflex  action  of  the  nerves  which  its  brightness  excites. 
Whenever  the  mind  perceives  such  an  object  as  a  distinct  and  definite  per- 
cept, then  vision  begins.  Such  a  percept,  as  has  already  been  explained,  is 
known  as  a  non-ego,  and  is  known  to  be  extended  in  two  dimensions. 
We  have  already  given  the  reasons  why,  in  the  beginnings  of  vision,  the 
percept  should  not  be  placed  in  the  retina  or  the  eye  (§  135). 

It  remains  for  us  to  show  why,  at  the  moment  when  this  place  comes  to  be 
Why  percepts  of  fixed,  it  should  be  projected  in  space.  With  this  projection  of  visible  objects 
tectediruf  ac™"  afr°nt  °f  *ne  eve»  begins  its  development,  or  education  of  the  sense  of  vision, 

if  this  location  is  acquired,  and  not  intuitive.     It  is  not  easy  to  explain  the 


§  157.  DEVELOPMENT  AND    GROWTH    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTION.  187 

steps  of  the  process,  or  the  grounds  why  its  percepts  are  carried  forward  into  space,  and  not 
located  in  the  eye  itself.  Some  contend  that  no  explanation  can  be  given,  because  none  is 
required  ;  that  there  is  no  problem,  because  there  is  no  process,  it  being,  in  their  view,  by  an 
ordinance  of  nature  that  the  object  seen  should  first  be  seen  at  the  eye's  focal  distance  for 
ward,  and  that  here  is  fixed  the  original  starting-point  from  which  all  the  acquired  judgment* 
of  distance  proceed.  They  insist  that  all  objects,  as  viewed  by  the  act  of  original  vision,  are 
seen  in  a  hollow  sphere — forward,  above,  below,  on  this  side  and  that — whose  radius  isthisfoca 
distance.  Cf.  Thorndale,  etc.,  by  William  Smith,  pp.  441,  442.  Such  must  of  necessity  hold 
that  the  act  of  projection  is  original,  and  not  in  any  sense  acquired. 

Those  who  hold  that  it  is  acquired,  give  various  explanations  of  the  process.  The  most 
plausible  is  the  following  :  The  eye,  though,  like  the  hand,  it  is  moved  by  muscles  which  are 
directed  by  the  aid  of  the  appropriate  sensations,  does  not,  when  in  its  normal  or  healthy  state, 
give  any  tactual  sensations  by  the  felt  contact  of  its  surface  with  the  objects  which  affect  it, 
nor  do  the  muscular  sensations  themselves  attract  the  attention.  There  are  no  positive  expe- 
riences either  of  muscular  or  tactual  sense-perceptions  which  should  fix  the  visible  object  at 
the  base  or  on  the  surface  of  the  eye.  These  objects  excite  the  idiopathic  sensations  of  color, 
as  the  objects  of  taste  excite  theirs  on  the  tongue,  but  without  the  sensations  of  contact  and 
of  muscular  action,  such  as  the  tongue  as  a  touching  organ  invariably  gives. 

We  assume,  before  these  experiments  begin,  that  the  eye  possesses  a  native 
Most  plausible  notion  of  space,  which  has  become  more  or  less  distinct  and  familiar  by  the 
explanation.  mind's  experience  of  the  trinal  extension  of  the  sensorium.  We  may 
assume,  moreover,  that  in  the  way  already  explained  (§  155  ),  space  and 
spatial  objects  external  to  the  body  have  become  familiar  through  the  sense  of  touch  and  the 
use  of  the  hand ;  in  other  words,  that  space  has  been  prolonged  or  projected  beyond  those 
limits  which  the  experience  of  contact  has  drawn  around  the  sensorium. 

At  the  surface  of  the  eye  such  tactual  experiences  are  wanting,  and  of  course  no  such 
limits  can  be  defined.  So  soon  as  the  lids  are  raised  and  the  experiences  of  color  are  made, 
the  eye  gropes  after  these  strange  objects,  but  cannot  touch  them.  It  reaches  after  them,  as  it 
were,  but  they  are  beyond  its  reach.  But  still  they  exist.  If  they  draw  near,  while  the  eye 
regards  them,  they  fill  more  of  its  field  of  view ;  if  they  withdraw,  they  occupy  a  less  exten- 
sive plane.  Meanwhile,  as  they  draw  near  or  remove,  the  eye  is  adjusted  to  perfect  vision, 
and  its  adjustments  and  motions  are  known  by  changing  sensations ;  but  still  the  objects  can- 
not be  touched,  nor  can  they  be  reached.  By  all  these  criteria,  visible  percepts  are  strikingly 
contrasted  with  those  which  are  tangible — they  exist ;  they  cannot  be  touched  by  the  eye,  nor 
can  the  eye  reach  them.  They  are  in  space  somewhere  without  the  body.  This  somewhere 
is  definitely  fixed  as  soon  as  the  object  seen,  coincides  with  the  object  which  is  touched.  The 
where  of  its  percept,  after  which  the  eye  inquires,  is  answered  as  soon  as  the  hand  touches  the 
object  seen.  The  limited  distance  which  is  measured  by  the  sensations  proper  to  the  extended 
.land,  becomes  fixed  and  clear,  and  the  object  held  by  the  hand  and  gazed  at  by  the  eye  is  dis- 
tinctly projected  in  space.  Henceforward  the  eye  and  the  hand  go  together  beyond  the  limited 
range  which  is  at  first  allotted  to  them,  into  the  unexplored  infinitude  that  awaits  their  labors. 
"Wir  schieben  die  auf  unseren  Augen  liegende  Hohlkugel  fast  im  eigentlichen  Sinne  des 
Wortes  mit  den,  Hdnden  von  uns  fort."  M.  J.  Schleiden,  Zur  Theorie  des  Erkennens  durch 
den  Gesichtssinn,  p.  41. 

Then  comes  the  power  to  set  up  a  field  of  vision.  First,  the  mind  must  construct  certain 
definite  objects  of  vision  out  of  the  bewildering  multitude  of  colors  and  outlines  which  present 
themselves  to  the  unpractised  eye.  Next,  it  must  select  a  few  of  these  objects  for  its  observe 
iion  at  a  single  look.  These  it  must  place  in  a  plane  more  or  less  distant,  leaving  out  of  dis- 
tinct vision  objects  near  and  remote,  estimating  distance  and  judging  size  in  the  ways  already 
explained.  These  acts  and  judgments  of  the  qi;ick  and  sensitive  eye,  aided  by  the  slower  and 
cooler  hand,  must  be  repeated  again  and  again,  till  any  required  field  of  vision  can  be  selected 
and  constructed  with  ease  and  precision,  30  that  we  seem  to  see  space,  distance,  and  dimen 


188  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  158 

sion  by  the  siiupie  glance  of  the  eye.  These  space  relations,  when  once  learned,  are  so  few, 
BO  simple,  so  easily  indicated,  and  so  completely  established,  that  they  seem  never  to  hare 
been  learned  at  all.  They  become  entwined  in  all  our  associations  ;  they  leap  at  once  to  the 
imagination ;  they  preoccupy  it  so  completely  as  to  shut  out  the  possibility  of  the  opposite 
their  suggestions  are  accepted  by  the  intellect  with  a  rapidity  that  often  leads  to  illusion  and 
error.  Hence  is  it  that  all  the  so-called  subjective  sensations  are  at  once  projected  into  space 
Hence,  when  the  veins  of  the  retina  themselves  become  the  objects  of  vision,  they  are  seen 
artont  of  the  eye,  a  dark  arborescence  projected  on  an  illuminated  background.  Hence,  when 
we  look  into  a  mirror,  either  natural  or  artificial,  we  see  all  its  reflected  objects  in  the  depths 
of  space.  Hence  the  spectra  of  the  imagination,  the  visions  which  haunt  the  phantasy  of  the 
diseased  and  insane,  are  all  distributed  in  space. 

Returning  to  the  sense  of  touch,  we  observe  that : 
The  connection    8  158.   The  first  acquisition  of  sight  and  touch  is  to  connect 

of  the  hands  as  ^  •  •       «_      t         a 

seen  and  the  the  hands  as  seen  with  the  hands  as  directly  felt  and  man- 
hands  as  touch-  .,  .  .,  .  „ .  . 

ed.  aged  through  the  muscular  sensations.     Before  this  is  pos- 

sible, the  hands  as  seen  must  become  familiar  as  definite  and  separated 
objects,  with  forms  that  are  easily  recognized.  The  muscular  sensations 
must  also  have  become  definite  and  distinct  to  the  attentive  intellect. 

Another  touch-perception  should  not  be  overlooked: — that  is,  the 
tactual  sensations  must  also  have  been  familiarly  observed,  definitely  dis- 
tinguished, and  so  far  connected  with  the  muscular  and  internal,  in  the 
way  already  explained,  as  to  enable  the  infant  to  know  that  its  hands  are  a 
part  of  its  own  body,  as  well  as  to  distinguish  its  body  from  other  mate- 
rial objects.  This  knowledge  being  given,  the  mind  must  learn  to  connect, 
the  hands  as  seen,  with  the  hands  as  moved  and  touched.  To  unite  these, 
two  percepts  is  one  of  the  first  and  most  important  of  the  acquired  per- 
ceptions which  the  infant  masters.  How  this  can  be  effected,  seems  not 
difficult  to  explain.  It  should  be  considered,  for  the  reasons  already  given, 
that  these  three  classes  of  objects  are  the  only  objects  with  which  the 
infant  is  conversant.  These  occupy  its  sole  attention.  They  constitute 
and  complete  its  universe.  Two  of  these  coincide  in  place.  All  these 
coincide  in  time.  They  all  occur  together.  How  can  the  seen  hand  be 
connected  with  the  hand  that  is  touched  and  moved  ?  We  answer — just 
as  soon  as  the  mind  can  raise  this  question,  or  just  as  fast  as  it  can  have 
the  knowledge  of  the  relations  of  place  and  distance  with  which  it  is  con- 
cerned, just  so  soon  is  it  qualified  to  know  that  the  object  seen  is  in  the 
same  place  with  the  hand  that  is  moved  and  handled. 

Let  one  hand  lie  upon  another,  or  let  the  hand  rest  upon  a  material  object  that  does  not 
belong  to  its  body.  The  eye  watches  the  process,  and  as  the  hand  holds  the  surface  with  its 
sentient  touch,  so  the  eye  holds  it  with  its  gaze ;  it  observes  that  what  was  still,  is  now  iu 
motion  ;  that  what  was  seen,  is  now  covered,  and  by  the  interposing  hand.  Or,  if  the  process 
be  described  in  terms  taken  from  the  language  of  vision  only,  one  patch  of  color  or  shade  or 
fight  is  obscured  by  another  which  moves  before  it  and  hides  it  from  the  view.  Or,  one  is 
moved  behind  another,  and  is  hidden  from  sight.  In  this  way  the  two  percepts  coincide  in 
place,  and  one  is  made  the  sign  of  the  other ;  when  one  is  seen,  it  is  expected  that  the  other  will 


$159.  DEVELOPMENT   AND    GROWTH    OP   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  18S 

DC  felt ;  when  one  is  felt,  the  mind  expects  that  the  other  will  be  seen.  As  the  raind  proceeds 
and  masters  the  other  relations  of  form,  place,  size,  distance,  etc.,  the  import  of  either  percept 
as  a  sign  of  the  other  becomes  to  the  same  extent  enlarged.  It  is  a  sign  not  only  of  the  oth^ 
as  a  percept  simply,  but  of  all  the  relations  which  it  signifies. 

The  world  of  the  ^  *s  manifest  that  the  explanation  of  the  process  by  which 
wotfd  "of  the  *ke  in^ant  learns  to  connect  and  unite  the  percepts  of  its 
hand.  hands,  or  of  other  parts  of  its  body,  applies  equally  well  to 

those  acts  by  which  it  learns  to  connect  the  percepts  of  all  material 
objects,  so  as  to  view  them  as  single  things.  That  this  power  is  acquired, 
and  neither  innate  nor  connate,  is  obvious.  That  it  is  acquired  by  experi- 
ment and  observation,  is  equally  clear.  The  world  of  the  eye  and  the 
world  of  the  hand  are  at  first  diverse  and  apart.  How  to  bring  them 
together,  is  the  first  problem  of  infancy.  Upon  this  problem  it  tasks  its 
earliest  powers.  At  last  these  two  worlds  rush  together,  coinciding  so 
completely  that  it  seems  inconceivable  that  they  should  ever  have  been 
held  apart. 

But  why,  we  often  ask,  if  these  two  worlds  were  once  separate,  and  were  only  united  bj 
the  slow  processes  of  early  experiment,  why  cannot  we  part  them  a  second  time  ?  Why  can* 
not  we  sometimes  perceive  by  the  eye  alone,  omitting  all  the  inferences  which  we  borrow  from 
touch  ?  The  reason  is,  that  what  we  learn  so  early,  we  cannot  forget  or  leave  unconsidered. 
The  facts  are  so  important,  so  constantly  used,  they  have  been  learned  so  long  and  have  been 
used  so  often,  that  we  cannot  imagine  a  condition  of  existence  in  which  we  did  not  as  yet 
know  them.  We  might  as  easily  forget  that  we  can  count,  or  forget  the  alphabet,  or  forget 
our  very  selves,  as  to  place  ourselves  in  the  condition  in  which  we  were  before  we  united  the 
hand  which  we  see,  with  the  hand  which  we  touch  and  move. 

§  159.   But  to  proceed  with  our  eager  and  impatient  infant. 
soon  as  ^  kas  mastere^  tne  objects  within  its  reach  and 

range,  so  that  eye  and  hand  are  united  as  one,  each  helping 
the  other,  it  makes  the  hand  aid  the  eye  in  respect  to  objects  which  it  can- 
not feel  and  handle.  This  it  can  do  only  by  careful  experiments,  involving 
many  errors.  Indeed,  the  infant  scarcely  judges  by  the  eye  of  any  object 
which  it  cannot  also  handle  and  measure  with  its  hands.  Every  thing  else 
is  either  unregarded  and  vaguely  stared  at,  or  it  haunts  the  vision  as  some- 
thing it  cannot  interpret.  It  is  not  till  childhood  is  reached  and  thought 
is  developed,  and  the  power  of  comparing  and  reasoning  is  consciously  de 
veloped,  that  distant  objects  are  cared  for  and  judged  of  with  intelligent 
and  confidence. 

It  is  instructive  to  watch  the  timid  yet  adventurous  experiments  which  an  infant  makes, 
especially  with  its  hands.  First,  it  strikes  about  in  aimless  efforts,  or  makes  a  play  for  its  eye* 
with  the  half  convulsive  motions  of  its  little  fists.  By  a  gradual  progress  it  learns  to  reach 
after  the  few  objects  which  the  eye  has  separated  from  the  background—the  infinite  unknown 
which  lies  beyond  its  reach  and  beyond  its  aims.  Soon  it  endeavors  to  lay  hold  of  objects 
jyhich  the  eye  rests  upon  that  are  quite  beyond  its  reach.  It  clutches  after  the  distant  lamp, 
Ihe  fire-blaze,  or  the  polished  fire-iron.  By  slow  but  sure  progress  it  masters  the  objects  withit 
Ha  own  apartment,  and  can  apply  its  rude  standards  of  size  and  distance  to  the  objects  witbir 


190  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  160 

the  apartment,  to  the  finite  world  which  its  four  walls  enclose.  All  beyond  is  infinitude.  Dur 
ing  this  time,  as  has  been  said,  the  infant  is  snort-sighted,  till  many  months  of  its  life  hav« 
elapsed,  with  the  express  design  that  it  should  be  forced  to  master  all  near  objects  before  i. 
is  tempted  beyond. 

If  we  would  conceive  how  the  world  out  of  doors  may  appear  to  an  infant  brought  t4 
How  the  world  the  window>  after  it;  is  somewhat  familiar  with  the  form,  size,  and  relative  positions  oi 
appears  to  an  in-  the  objects  within,  we  may  read  what  is  told  of  Caspar  Hauser,  who  is  said  to  have  been 
^an^-  confined,  till  the  age  of  seventeen,  in  a  darkened  apartment,  without  communication 

with  nature  by  the  senses,  or  with  man  by  language.  The  story,  whether  true  or  false, 
meets  the  case.  "  I  directed  him,"  says  his  teacher,  "  to  look  out  of  the  window,  pointing  to  the  wide  and 
extensive  prospect  of  a  beautiful  landscape  that  presented  itself  in  all  the  glory  of  summer,  and  asked  him 
whether  what  he  saw  was  not  very  beautiful.  He  obeyed,  but  instantly  drew  back  with  visible  horror, 
exclaiming,  'ugly,  ugly  !'  and  then  pointing  to  the  white  wall  of  his  chamber,  he  said,  'there  not  ugly.' 
Several  years  after,  his  friend  asked  him  if  he  recalled  the  remembrance  of  the  scene,  and  of  his  own  feel- 
ings, and  he  said :  '  What  I  then  saw  was  very  ugly ;  for  when  I  looked  at  the  window,  it  always  appeared 
to  me  as  if  a  window-shutter  had  been  placed  before  my  eyes,  upon  which  a  wall-painter  had  spattered  the 
contents  of  his  different  brushes,  filled  with  white,  blue,  green,  yellow,  and  red  paint,  all  mingled  together. 
Single  things,  as  I  now  see  things,  I  could  not  at  that  time  recognize  and  distinguish  from  each  other. 
That  what  I  then  saw  were  fields,  hills,  and  houses ;  that  many  things  which  at  that  time  appeared  much 
larger  were  in  reality  much  smaller,  while  many  other  things  which  appeared  smaller  were  in  reality 
larger  than  other  things,  is  a  fact  of  which  I  was  afterward  convinced  in  the  experience  gained  in  mj 
walks.'  He  also  said,  'that  in  the  beginning,  he  could  not  distinguish  between  what  was  really  round  and 
what  was  only  painted  as  round  or  triangular.  The  men  and  horses  represented  on  sheets  of  pictures 
appeared  to  be  precisely  as  men  and  horses  carved  on  wood.' " — Caspar  Hauser ;  An  Account,  etc.  (trans- 
lated from  the  German),  pp.  88,  89.  2d  edition.  Boston,  1833. 

We  need  not  pursue  our  synthesis  further.  We  need  not  further 
ask  how  the  infant  builds  up  the  rest  of  its  knowledge,  or  acquires  its 
infant  skill.  We  need  not  ask  how  the  infant  learns  to  use  its  hands, 
to  grasp,  to  hold,  and  to  handle  a  spoon,  a  fork,  or  a  knife,  or  how  it 
learns  to  walk,  or  talk ;  for  all  these  processes  can  be  explained  by  analo- 
gous processes  which  occur  within  our  recollection.  Still  less  need  we  ask 
how  it  learns  to  connect  the  percepts  of  smell,  of  taste,  and  of  sound,  with 
their  appropriate  objects.  These  problems  present  no  difficulty  and  re- 
quire no  solution. 

We  persistently  ask  why  we  cannot  unravel  some  of  these  combinations  which  we  make 
in  earliest  infancy,  and  more  than  half  discredit  the  assertion  that  we  make  them  at  all.  We 
forget  that,  in  respect  to  analogous  processes  in  later  life,  we  cannot  place  ourselves  at  a  point 
behind  them ;  we  cannot  remember  where  we  were,  nor  what  we  knew,  before  we  had  mas- 
tered the  skill  to  use  them.  It  is  the  result  which  interests  us,  and  which  occupies  the  atten- 
tion so  as  to  impress  the  memory.  The  process  does  not  impress  us,  because  we  do  not  watch 
it ;  therefore  we  forget  it,  or,  rather,  never  recall  it  at  all.  The  state  in  which  we  were,  before 
the  secret  of  interpreting  one  percept  by  another,  is  also  left  behind.  Now  that  we  can  inter- 
pret the  indications  aright,  it  seems  to  us  that  we  always  could.  Hence  we  cannot  imagine  the 
condition  in  which  we  did  not  know  and  could  not  understand  that  which  we  cannot  cease  to 
know  and  interpret. 

As  to  the  question  whether  the  mind,  in  earliest  infancy,  is  competent  to  intelligent  per- 
ception at  all,  that  has  been  fully  discussed  in  answering  a  similar  inquiry  in  regard  to  a  some- 
what later  period  (§  148). 

§  160.    The  phenomena  attendant  upon  the  recovery  of  sight  by  persons  who 
oirth,  upon  the    had  been  blind  from  birth,  have  already  been  referred  to  as  illustrating  and 
°f    establishing  some  of  the  positions  advanced  in  the  preceding  chapter.     They 

deserve  a  separate  and  more  particular  notice. 


§160.  DEVELOPMENT   AND    GROWTH    OF   SENSE-PEKCEPTKHT.  191 

Such  persons  are  like  infanta  in  this  respect,  that  they  must  learn  to  see — i.  e.t  they  must 
go  through  all  the  processes  of  which  the  infant  has  experience.  In  doing  this,  they  must  use 
and  so  bring  to  light  the  several  stages  or  steps  of  which  the  processes  are  composed,  as  well 
as  the  grounds  or  data  of  judgment  on  which  the  several  acquisitions  are  founded.  Th<^' 
differ  from  infants  in  this  respect,  that  their  perceptions  of  touch  are  already  perfected  when 
they  begin  to  see ;  while  those  of  the  infant  are  developed  in  connection  with,  and  often  by 
the  aid  of  the  acquisitions  of  sight.  The  blind  person  has  also  a  greater  maturity  of  intellect, 
and  of  course  a  higher  capacity  for  performing  the  judgments  and  forming  the  habits  which 
are  involved.  They  have  the  disadvantage,  on  the  other  hand,  of  being  more  occupied  with 
other  objects,  so  that  their  attention  is  likely  to  be  less  concentrated  upon  this  problem.  Their 
sensibilities  are  less  quick  and  plastic  than  are  those  of  infancy.  The  value  of  the  recorded 
observations  depends  greatly  upon  the  intelligence  and  the  honesty  of  the  observer.  The 
patients  cannot  be  supposed  capable  of  analyzing  their  own  processes.  Those  who  observe 
them,  ought  to  be  acquainted  with  the  problems  or  questions  to  be  solved,  so  as  wisely  to  con- 
duct their  own  inquiries  and  skilfully  to  apply  the  decisive  tests,  or  experimental  crucis.  In  the 
words  of  Diderot :  "To  prepare  and  question  one  born  blind,  would  not  have  been  unwarthy 
of  the  combined  talents  of  Newton,  Descartes,  Leibnitz,  and  Locke."  They  need  also  to  be 
wary  in  their  estimate  of  evidence,  so  as  not  to  put  leading  questions,  or  to  over  or  wrongly  esti- 
mate the  answers  of  the  patient. 

The  cases  which  are  most  easily  accessible  to  the  English  reader — which  are,  indeed,  the 
most  satisfactory  and  decisive  of  any  on  record — are  those  reported  in  the  Philosophical  Trans- 
actions of  the  Royal  Society  of  London  for  the  years  respectively,  1728,  1801,  1807,  1826,  and 
1841.  The  persons  operated  upon  differed  greatly  in  respect  to  age,  mental  capacity,  and 
the  degree  of  their  previous  blindness.  The  observations  and  experiments  with  all  of  them 
may  be  accepted  as  having  established  the  following  facts  and  truths  : 

The  patients,  as  soon  as  they  began  to  see,  saw  objects  not  only  as  colored,  but  as  extended. 
Their  experiences  give  no  countenance  whatever  to  the  views  of  Stewart  and  Brown,  that  color 
can  be  perceived  without  extension,  and  that  the  two  are  united  by  inseparable  association.  It 
is  true  that  in  almost  every  case  the  patients,  previously  to  their  recovery  to  sight,  had  some 
experience  of  light,  and  of  course  of  light  superficially  extended  or  diffused.  But  this  expe- 
rience of  light  was  so  obviously  dependent  upon  the  affection  of  the  retina,  as  to  indicate,  if 
not  to  prove,  that  any  experience  of  light  whatever  involves  the  perception  of  extension. 

The  extension  which  they  perceived  by  sight  was  in  two  dimensions  only.  This  was  made 
evident  from  a  few  experiments  instituted  with  express  reference  to  this  point  in  the  case  of 
one  of  the  most  intelligent.  A  solid  cube  and  a  solid  sphere  were  both  taken  by  him  to  be 
simply  discs  or  planes.  A  solid  cube  and  a  flat  projection  of  the  same  were  both  taken  to  be 
flat  and  in  every  respect  alike.  A  pyramid,  when  turned  toward  him  so  as  to  present  one  of 
its  sides  only,  was  called  a  triangle.  When  the  pyramid  was  turned  so  as  to  expose  a  part  of 
another  side,  he  could  not  make  out  what  it  was. 

As  to  distance  from  the  eye  or  the  place  where  objects  are  located  in  original  perception, 
the  testimony  is  unanimous  and  decisive  that  objects  at  first  seem  very  near — how  near,  could 
not  be  exactly  known — and  that  the  relative  distance  of  each  object  beyond  this  indeterminate 
limit  is  learned  by  experience.  Most  of  the  patients  were  afraid  to  move,  lest  they  should  hit 
against  objects  that  were  comparatively  remote.  Two  or  three  of  the  patients,  in  attempting 
to  reach  objects  extended  to  them,  clutched  behind  the  objects  when  held  near  before  them, 
and  when  more  remote,  only  succeeded  in  grasping  them  after  repeated  efforts.  Cheselden's 
boy  said,  at  first,  that  all  objects  touched  his  eye.  The  boy  reported  by  Sir  Edward  Home 
(1807)  said  the  sun  and  the  candle  touched  his  eye,  even  before  the  cataracts  were  removed ; 
and,  just  after  the  first  operation,  said  the  head  of  the  surgeon  did  the  same.  But  after  a 
second  operation,  he  said  the  sun  and  candle  did  not  touch  his  eye.  It  is  probable  that  the 
objects  which  were  said  to  touch  the  eyes,  in  these  two  cases,  stimulated  the  eye  so  actively  aa 
to  present  some  analogy  to  the  muscular  sensations  accompanying  touch,  with  which,  in  every 


192  THE    HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §161 

possible  form,  the  patient  was  so  familiar.  Hence  they  interpreted  and  called  these  expe 
nciices  perceptions  of  touch. 

All  these  persons  were  forced  to  learn  by  experience  to  combine  the  percepts  of  sight 
with  the  familiar  impressions  of  touch,  so  as  to  translate  the  one  into  the  other.  All  expe- 
rienced a  difficulty  similar  to  that  of  Cheselden's  boy  with  the  dog  and  cat.  When  they  saw 
objects  a  second  time,  and  were  not  certain  that  they  could  recall  them,  they  reached  for  them 
with  the  hand,  and  could  not  be  content  till  they  had  handled  them  a  second  time.  Their 
judgments  of  size  and  form  all  needed  to  be  acquired.  Visible  mathematical  figures,  as  a 
square,  a  circle,  and  rectangle,  could  not  be  recognized  till  the  fingers  were  resorted  to.  One 
patient  did  make  out  one  or  two  of  these  figures,  by  drawing  the  outline  with  her  finger  in  the 
air,  and,  as  it  were,  constructing  the  figure  with  the  finger,  after  the  lines  presented  to  the  eye. 
Another  could  not  understand  how  drawings  of  objects  could  represent  the  objects,  till  he 
revived  the  percepts  of  the  objects  in  his  fingers.  Most  of  them  were  embarrassed  by  draw- 
ings and  pictures,  not  being  able  to  see  likenesses  or  to  understand  perspective,  or  to  perceive 
that  light  and  shade  represented  form  and  distance.  Their  judgments  of  t\^  comparative  size 
of  objects  were  embarrassing  to  them.  Cheselden's  boy  knew  that  his  own  room  was  a  part 
of  the  house,  but  could  not  easily  believe  the  house  was  so  much  larger  than  the  apartment. 

The  testimony  is  uniform,  also,  that,  in  learning  to  see  objects  as  separate  things,  the  con- 
structive power  is  brought  into  play,  requiring  intelligent  attention  and  constant  memory  on 
the  part  of  the  percipient,  and  that  it  is  only  slowly,  at  best,  that  the  mind  learns  to  set  apart 
its  separated  objects,  to  form  its  field  of  vision,  to  locate  objects  as  near  and  remote  by  the 
various  signs  which  it  learns  to  interpret.  In  short,  these  observations  and  experiments  con- 
firm and  illustrate  all  that  has  been  said  in  this  chapter  in  respect  to  the  early  development 
and  growth  of  sense-perception. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THE   PRODUCTS    OF    SENSE-PEECEPTION ;     OR,    THE   PERCEPTION    OF     MATERIAL 

THINGS. 

THUS  far  we  have  considered  sense-perception  as  a  process,  and  in  its  growth.  We  proceed 
next  to  discuss  its  results  in  those  products  which  become  the  permanent  possessions  of 
the  mind.  We  have  already  explained  of  knowledge  in  general,  that,  as  an  activity  of 
the  intellect,  it  is  brought  to  its  appropriate  termination  when  ks  objects  can,  so  to  speak, 
be  detached  from  the  process  by  which  they  were  so  matured  as  afterward  to  be  retained, 
recalled,  and  recognized.  This  is  eminently  true  of  this  form  of  knowledge.  Sense-per- 
ception is  only  complete  when  it  results  in  the  knowledge  of  material  things. 

Material  things  §  161>  ^  materia^  thing  or  object  as  known  by  sense-percep. 
8ense"per"  tion  is  a  completed  whole  made  up  of  separate  percepts. 
We  distinguish  the  knowledge  of  things  from  the  knowledge 
of  percepts.  A  percept,  as  has  been  explained,  is  the  appropriate  object 
of  the  mind's  knowledge  through  a  single  organ  of  sense.  A  thing  is  the 
result  of  the  mind's  knowledge  in  apprehending  several  percepts  as  united 
into  a  finished  whole,  with  the  relations  which  this  combination  involves. 

As  an  example  of  the  difference,  take  an  apple.     The  apple  seen,  touched,  smellod, 
tasted,  and  heard,  are  separate  percepts.     The  object  perceived  by  the  combination  of  all 


§  162.  THE    PRODUCTS    OP   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  19*» 

these  percepts  is  the  apple,  or  material  thing.  The  separate  original  perceptions  give  as  man? 
percepts.  The  original  and  acquired  perceptions,  when  united  as  a  whole,  give  material 
objects  or  things. 

Two  questions  now  present  themselves  for  consideration :  By  what  means,  and  under  wha* 
relations,  does  the  mind  unite  separate  percepts  into  things  or  objects?     Under  what  con- 
ditions does  the  mind  so  complete  its  knowledge  of  percepts  and  of  things,  as  to  be  able  to 
retain  and  recall  them  as  permanent  objects  of  knowledge  ? 
i 

We  begin  with  the  first  of  these  questions  :  By  what  steps,  and  under 
what  relations,  does  the  mind  unite  percepts  into  things  or  material 
objects  ?  We  answer  : 

By  what  reia-  §  162t  Percepts  are  united  into  things  by  two  successive 
clorts  male  Sto  stePs  or  stages,  to  each  of  which  there  is  an  appropriate 
product.  By  the  first,  it  unites  these  percepts  into  a  mate- 
rial thing,  or  whole,  under  the  relations  of  space  and  time.  By  the 
second,  it  connects  the  whole  and  its  parts  under  the  relation  of  substance 
and  attributive  quality.  These  several  percepts  united  in  all  these  rela- 
tions constitute  what  is  commonly  known  as  a  material  thing. 

It  has  already  been  shown  how  the  percepts  of  sight  and  the  percepts 
of  touch  are  referred  by  the  mind  to  the  same  portion  of  space.  The  seen 
hand  and  the  touched  hand  are  found  to  lie  in  the  same  direction,  and  to 
be  at  the  same  distance  from  any  and  every  part  of  the  body,  from  which 
they  are  measured  off  by  the  eye.  In  the  same  way  the  apple  or  the  egg, 
the  chair  or  the  table,  which  are  seen  and  touched,  coincide  in  the  same 
portion  of  space.  They  are  in  the  same  place.  By  the  same  process  the 
body  itself  has  been  previously  perceived  to  be  one  material  thing. 

This  coincidence  in  place  is  the  first  of  the  constructive  or  synthetic 
acts  by  which  the  mind,  in  sense-perception,  forms  to  itself  its  perceptions 
of  objects.  The  percepts  of  sight  and  touch  are  the  most  prominent  and 
important.  When  these  are  united  in  one,  the  other  percepts,  as  of  smell, 
taste,  and  sound,  are  readily  attached.  The  object  which  we  touch,  we 
also  taste.  We  touch  it  when  we  taste  it.  The  same  object  we  touch  and 
smell.  The  sound  which  we  hear  when  it  is  struck,  or  when  it  falls,  is 
referred  to  it  more  indirectly  by  a  process  and  under  a  relation  which  we 
need  not  here  explain  (cf.  §  166). 

It  is  of  course  necessary  that  the  percepts,  thus  definitely  united  in  a  common  whole, 
should  be  distinguished  from  the  other  percepts  which  are  apprehended  by  the  same  sense. 
Distinct  and  definite  bounds  of  extension  must  be  assigned  to  every  percept,  else  they  could 
not  coincide  with  one  another  under  the  same  dimensions.  When  they  are  thus  united,  the 
mind  has  perceived  a  material  thing  or  object.  The  object  perceived  by  the  eye  arid  the  hanc. 
fills  or  occupies,  as  we  say,  the  same  space,  and  so  far  it  is  one  object  or  thing. 

Other  relations  are  afterward  apprehended,  under  which  these  separate  percepts  stand  to 
one  another,  to  the  mind  which  perceives  them,  and  to  the  physical  organization  by  which 
they  are  perceived.  But  the  relation  of  a  common  extension  is  the  first  in  the  order  of  time, 
and  fundamental  in  the  order  of  thought.  The  infant  finds  things  when  it  fixes  on  a  place  for 
its  percepts  of  sight  and  touch.  It  knows  material  objects  when  it  discovers  that  what  it  see« 
and  whal  it  touches  can  be  reached  by  its  outstretched  arm,  or  by  a  certain  number  of  steps. 
13 


'94  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT. 

g   163.    The  first  stage  of  perception  is  complete  when  it 

The    first    stage         . 

of    perception;    gives  a  material  object,  or  whole,  m  this  lower  sense,  viz.,  a 

when  complete.  ,  .         .  ,     , 

combination  ot  the  percepts  that  are  appropriate  to  each  of 
the  organs  of  sense,  by  means  of  the  relations  of  space  and  time.  The 
percepts  of  sight  and  touch  are  inseparably  united  in  space,  and  this  is  the 
earliest  combination  made  by  the  intellect  which  may  properly  be  called  a 
material  thing.  With  these  two  are  connected  the  percepts  of  taste, 
smell,  and  sound,  at  first  under  the  relation  of  simultaneous  occurrence  in 
time. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  several  percepts,  when  viewed  as  connected  into  a  whole  under  these 
relations,  have  a  veiy  unequal  relative  importance.  The  percepts  of  sight  and  touch,  to  those 
who  can  see  and  feel,  as  they  are  defined  in  place  and  eminently  objective,  constitute  the  mate- 
rial object  as  it  is  usually  conceived  and  named.  The  percepts  of  smell,  sound,  and  taste,  are 
its  invariable  attendants  in  time,  until  they  are  connected  with  it  by  another  relation. 

To  those  who  see,  even  though  they  can  also  feel,  the  leading  percepts  are  those  of  sight. 
The  name  of  an  object  suggests  its  visible  form  and  color,  etc.,  rather  than  the  object  as 
touched  ;  a  certain  and  decisive  evidence  that  it  is  the  object  as  seen  which  is  most  prominent 
and  attractive  to  the  mind,  and  therefore  is  most  readily  recalled  to  the  imagination. 

To  the  blind,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  object  as  touched,  or  the  tangible  percept,  which 
is  suggested  by  the  name,  and  to  his  imagination  constitutes  the  thing  perceived. 

The  other  percepts,  as  of  taste,  smell,  and  sound,  are  connected  with  the  combined  per- 
cepts of  touch  and  hearing  less  readily,  and  by  a  looser  bond.  As  at  first  experienced,  they 
are  referred  to  the  sentient  organism,  and  less  readily  separated  from  it.  They  are  more  sen- 
sational  and  subjective,  less  perceptional  and  objective.  As  to  the  manner  and  the  relations 
by  which  they  are  first  connected  with  the  percepts  of  sight  and  touch,  philosophers  are  not 
agreed.  It  must  at  least  be  true,  that  whatever  other  relations  unite  them  to  material  things, 
they  must  at  the  very  earliest  period  be  their  constant  attendants  in  place  and  time. 

However  quickly  the  human  intellect  may  learn  to  connect  them  with  their  objects  under 
higher  and  more  intimate  relations,  it  must  first  know  them  as  constant  attendants  one  of 
another.  When  a  given  sound  or  smell  or  taste  is  perceived,  it  certainly  connects  it  with  the 
seen  or  touched  object  with  which  it  has  been  previously  attended.  Under  these  laws  or  rela- 
tions the  human  intellect  recalls  one  percept  by  another  percept,  or  one  object  by  one  of  its 
percepts,  even  when  U  recalls  them  by  higher  relations.  The  animal  intellect  connects  and 
recalls  objects  and  percepts  by  no  other. 

When,  then,  the  human  intellect  has  learned  to  connect  its  percepts  in  space  and  tune,  aa 
things  or  wholes,  in  the  way  explained,  one  stage  or  step  in  the  process  of  perceiving  material 
things  or  products  is  complete,  and  one  product  is  evolved,  viz.,  several  percepts  coinciding  in 
space  and  time. 


Material  things  §  164'  ^e  concepti°n  of  a  material  thing  or  whole,  made  up 
™Tbk  sfinifiS-  °^  extended  parts  or  single  percepts,  is,  however,  very 
tiori8'  equivocal  in  its  import  and  varied  in  its  application.  To  an 

infant  with  limited  experience,  the  greater  part  of  an  apartment  may  be 
perceived  as  a  single  object  or  thing  ;  the  only  separable  objects  in  it 
being  the  chair,  table,  and  a  few  utensils,  the  position  of  which  is  often 
changed.  To  a  child,  a  horse  and  carriage,  seen  together  for  the  first 
time,  may  be  a  whole,  or  a  single  object.  The  savage  perceives  a  ship  or 
steamer  to  be  a  huge  animal.  Many  observations  and  experiments,  much 


§165.  THE   PRODUCTS    OF   SEXSE-PERCEPTION.  195 

in  formation  from  others,  repeated  lessons  inferred  from  words  and  names 
properly  applied,  are  required  to  enable  the  child  to  distinguish  things  as 
wholes  and  parts  ;  to  hold  apart  objects  that  should  not  be  united ;  and  to 
unite  objects  that  should  not  be  divided.  The  point  of  view  from  which 
objects  are  observed,  and  the  purpose  or  use  to  which  they  are  to  be  ap- 
plied, direct  in  the  formation  arid  application  of  names,  and  determine 
whether  this  or  that  object  shall  be  regarded  as  a  whole  or  part  of  a  thing 
A  house  with  its  grounds,  the  house  alone,  an  apartment,  a  door,  a  win- 
dow, the  smallest  perceived  portion  of  either,  each  and  all,  are  tilings  or 
parts  of  things,  according  to  the  principle  or  use  which  regulates  the 
application  of  the  respective  terms.  But  whether  a  perceived  whole  is 
greater  or  smaller  in  its  spatial  dimensions,  it  must  have  denned  spatial 
dimensions  and  be  capable  of  being  perceived  by  one  of  the  leading 
senses,  if  it  is  perceived  as  a  material  thing.  Whatever  the  thing  may  be, 
the  percepts  of  which  it  consists  must  at  least  be  capable  of  being  per- 
ceived as  occupying  the  same  space,  and  of  occurring  together  in  time, 

This,  it  should  be  observed,  is  a  material  or  sense-object  as  perceived  or  as 
Percepts  recalled  made  ready  for  recall.  When  it  is  recalled,  these  parts,  thus  coincident  in 
oftrme relations  space  and  time,  can  only  be  represented  by  successive  acts  in  continuous 

time.  When  a  perceived  object  becomes  an  idea,  the  several  percepts  which 
compose  it  are  represented  one  by  one — the  form,  the  color,  the  feeling,  the  taste,  the  smell, 
and  the  sound.  Even  single  percepts,  when  very  extended  or  complicated,  can  be  represented 
in  parts  only,  in  the  successive  instants  of  time  which  successive  acts  of  representation 
require. 

FhQ  SThCe°red  §  ^5.  ^v  ^e  secon<^  stage  or  step  of  the  perceptive  process, 
lation  of  sub-  ^ne  several  percepts  or  parts  are  connected  with  one  another, 

stance  and  attri-  ' 

bute.  or  with  the  wholo  which  they  constitute,  as  substance  and 

attribute.  Thus  the  objects  of  the  sense  of  touch  are  known  as  hard  or 
soft,  rough  or  smooth,  elastic  or  non-elastic,  etc.,  etc.  Those  of  sight  art 
red,  yellow,  orange,  viol*t,  and  gieen ;  those  of  hearing  are  sharp,  smooth, 
harsh,  and  sweet ;  those  of  smell  are  pungent,  exhilarant,  fetid ;  and  all 
these  qualities  are  ascribed  to  an  object  to  which  they  belong,  and  of  which 
they  are  affirmed  to  be  attributes.  Certain  relations  of  time  and  exten 
ision,  as  long  and  short,  square  and  round,  are  in  like  manner  treated  as 
properties  or  attributes.  They  are  more  than  parts  of  wholes  which  they 
help  to  constitute ;  they  are  connected  with  a  being  or  agent,  the  nature 
of  which  they  define,  the  presence  of  which  they  signify,  and  the  powers 
of  which  they  manifest. 

It  is  not  here  in  place  to  discuss  the  nature  of  this  special  relation  which  has  oo- 
General  defini-  casioned  so  much  speculation  and  dispute  among  metaphysicians  (P.  iv.  c.  vii ). 
tion  of  this  rela-  jt  jg  sufficient  here  to  say,  that  as  we  have  already  shown  that  knowledge 

of  every  kind  necessarily  gives  beings  and  relations,  or  beings  as  related,  we 
are  prepared  to  understand  the  definition  of  a  substance  as  a  being  that  is  capable  of  being 
distinguished  by  relations  ;  and  of  attributes,  qualities,  and  properties,  as  relations  used  :o  dU 


196  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  168 

tinguish  and  describe  or  define  beings.  That  the  objects  of  perception,  both  wholes  and  parts-— 
i  «.,  combined  and  single  percepts — are  in  fact  connected  in  this  way,  is  too  obvious  to  require 
Illustration  and  proof. 

$  166.  The  relations  most  frequently  employed  to  distinguish 

Relations    most      '5  .  •   ->  *  *•  T 

frequently  used    and  define  beings,  are  relations  of  time,  space,  and  causality. 

as  attributes.  ,      °  , 

As  soon  as  beings  are  known  as  enduring  for  a  longer  or 
shorter  period,  or  having  this  or  that  size  or  form,  and  these  relations  are 
ised  to  designate  or  distinguish  them  from  other  beings,  these  relations 
become  their  attributes.  As  soon  as  the  sense-object  is  known  as  the  pro- 
ducer of  sensations,  as  of  smell,  taste,  or  sound — i.  e.9  as  capable,  under 
certain  conditions,  of  producing  these  effects,  it  would  be  known  as  en- 
dowed with  attributes ;  viz.,  distinguishable  capacities  to  produce  these 
effects.  The  sensations  would,  in  their  turn,  be  referred  to  these  beings 
as  their  causes  or  originators.  No  illustration  is  needed  to  prove  that  the 
sense-element,  the  sensation,  in  these  three  percepts  is  naturally  and  early 
regarded  as  an  effect.  So  far  as  the  mind  is  passive  in  sensation,  it  must 
be  so  regarded.  The  sensation  is  experienced  when  the  object  or  being  is 
near.  It  is  felt  less  intensely  when  the  object  is  remote.  Its  quality  or 
intensity,  one  or  both,  vary  with  the  varying  conditions  of  the  object. 
When  an  object  is  struck  by  a  certain  material,  as  wood  or  iron,  or  with  a 
given  force,  it  emits  a  sound  of  peculiar  quality  and  intensity.  An  object 
of  a  certain  visible  form  or  color  emits  a  certain  odor.  Another  object 
emits  a  different  odor,  and  both  these  odors  vary  in  intensity  at  varying 
distances.  An  object  with  a  certain  form,  feel,  or  color,  when  brought  in 
contact  with  the  tongue  or  palate,  causes  a  certain  taste.  This  experiment 
is  perhaps,  of  all  others,  the  best  fitted  to  evolve  to  the  mind  an  appre- 
hension of  the  relation  of  causality,  leading  to  that  of  substance  and 
attribute.  Touched  by  the  hand,  no  special  novel  sensation  follows ;  but 
touched  by  the  tongue  and  palate,  there  ensues  the  specific  sensation  of 
taste.  The  object  touched  might  have  been  regarded  as  a  simple  being  or 
thing ;  but  the  object  tasted  is  known  as  also  capable  of  originating  the 
sensation  in  question. 

The  three  sense-percepts  of  smell,  taste,  and  sound,  as  percepts,  carry  with 
Sensations  of  '  .  '  .f 

smell,  taste,  and     them  some  vague  relations  to  extension,  as  has  already  been  explained.     But 

sound,  first  used  ^hese  relations  are  likely  soon  to  be  overlooked,  in  comparison  with  tho 
greater  potency  of  the  sensational  element.  This  becomes  still  more  promi- 
nent, because  of  its  immediate  relation  to  the  forces  which  awaken  the  desires,  and  impel  to 
action.  The  objects  which  we  see  and  handle  are  very  early  regarded  as  interesting,  from  their 
power  to  impart  pleasure  or  pain.  They  are  sought  or  avoided  with  intense  excitement  of 
desire,  and  at  the  cost  of  toil  and  sacrifice.  They  are  constantly  contemplated  as  related  to 
onr  appetites  and  waiits,  to  our  comfort  and  pleasure.  Almost  as  soon  as  they  are  known 
as  things,  they  are  known  as  causers  or  producers  of  certain  agreeable  or  disagreeable  sensa- 
tions, and  are  described  and  indicated  by  these  capacities.  These  capacities  are  their  attri- 
outes.  By  these  they  are  known  and  recognized  by  the  person  himself,  By  these  they  art 
indicated  and  described  to  others. 


§  166.  THE   PRODUCTS    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  197 


^  ^s  <lu^e  conceivable,  as  has  been  already  suggested,  that 
Before  these  percepts  and  sensations  are  connected  under  the 
bute-  relation  of  substance  and  attribute,  they  should  be  known  as 

constant  attendants,  coexistent  or  successive,  and  that,  simply  as  con- 
joined, the  presence  or  the  thought  of  the  one  should,  under  the  laws  of 
association,  suggest  the  thought  of  the  other.  It  is  under  this  relation 
that  things  and  properties  are  known  to  the  animal.  It  is  obvious  that  the 
animal  cannot  and  does  not  distinguish  the  relation  of  conjunction  from 
that  of  causation.  If  he  has  experienced  one  sensation  or  sense-percept  io 
connection  with  another,  the  repetition  of  the  one  brings  up  the  image  of 
the  other,  and  the  pain  and  pleasure,  the  hope  and  fear  which  are  appro- 
priate to  it.  The  dog  connects  with  the  whip  in  the  hand  of  his  master 
the  thought  of  chastisement  and  pain  ;  with  the  sight  of  his  gun  or  his 
walking-stick,  the  excitement  of  a  ramble  or  of  sport.  It  is  not  easy  to 
assert  when  and  why  the  two  relations  are  distinguished  by  man  ;  that 
they  are  distinguished,  is  obvious,  for  reasons  which  this  is  not  the  place 
to  give. 

We  have  said  that  it  is  not  till  the  second  or  advanced  stage  of  the  percep- 
This        relation 
supposes    reflex     tive  process  that  the  percepts  are  connected  under  the  relation  of  substance 


and  attri*>ute-  This  is  evident  when  we  reflect  that,  as  a  kind  of  knowledge, 
this  is  indirect  and  reflex,  as  distinguished  from  that  which  is  direct  and  objec- 
tive. It  supposes  the  objects  related,  the  subject  of  sensations,  and  the  object  which  occasions 
them,  to  be  more  or  less  familiar  —  to  be  discriminated  respectively  by  consciousness  and  per- 
ception ;  and  that  both  subject  and  object  are  projected  in  the  view  of  the  mind  upon  the 
same  plane,  so  that  both  are  objects  to  its  thought.  A  thing  cannot  be  known  as  capable  of 
producing  sensations  as  effects,  unless  the  body  or  the  soul,  one  or  both,  are  known  as  the 
conditions  or  subjects  of  its  action  ;  and  this  requires  that  they  should  be  placed  afront  the 
reflecting  mind  by  a  special  effort,  requiring  that  maturity  and  discipline  which  time  alone  can 
develope.  Moreover,  it  supposes  some  degree  of  generalization,  and  some  sort  of  induction. 
Many  objects  must  have  been  touched  and  seen,  before  they  are  so  far  recognized  as  similar  as 
to  be  taken  for  the  same,  in  their  causal  efficiency.  Many  experiences  must  be  had  with  the 
sensations  of  smell,  taste,  and  sound,  before  these  could  be  invariably  referred  to  the  same 
substances,  as  dependent  on  their  properties  or  attributes. 

But  generalization  and  induction  are  acts  of  thought,  which  is  a  power  higher  than  that 
of  simple  perception.  This  is  true  ;  but  it  has  already  been  remarked,  and  needs  ever  to  be 
kept  in  mind,  that  the  higher  and  lower  powers,  though  distinguishable  in  the  kind  of  their 
activity,  are  not  separated  in  fact.  Moreover,  the  action  of  the  lower  is  not  complete  without 
the  higher.  In  one  sense  it  is  true,  that  an  act  of  sense-perception  is  not  complete,  and  its 
product  is  not  perfected,  until  the  soul's  higher  energies  are  awakened,  and  the  object  of  them 
has  been  viewed  in  the  higher  relations.  The  human  being  can  scarcely  be  said  truly  to  have 
perceived  even  a  pebble,  as  a  man,  till  he  has  brought  into  action  all  the  powers  with  which  he 
is  endowed  as  a  man.  The  higher  energies  also  react  upon  the  lower,  and  excite  'hem  to 
greater  efficiency.  The  relations  appropriate  to  the  higher,  bring  out  in  more  striking  relief 
those  relations  which  are  present  even  in  the  lowest  acts.  We  may  believe  that  even  in  Ihe 
earlier  exercises  of  the  power  of  perception,  there  may  be  present  some  rudimentary  activ'ty 
of  the  higher  capacities  to  modify,  direct,  and  elevate  them.  The  higher  may  shape  the  lower 
nature,  through  those  intrinsic  relations  which  always  stand  ready  to  be  revealed,  or  those 
cravings  and  impulses  which  anticipate  developed  knowledge.  The  infant's  eye  may  not 


108  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  160 

glisten  with  the  penetrating  sharpness  of  the  eye  of  the  young  eagle,  but  it  may  wear  th« 
softer  lustre  which  betokens  dawning  intelligence.  The  soul  leaps  into  no  single  form  of 
activity,  least  of  all  into  the  full  development  of  its  higher  powers. 

The  relation  of  substance  and  attribute  has  by  some  writers  been  denied  to  sense-per« 
This  relation  de-     ception.  and  limited  to  thought  or  intelligence.     Kant,  by  his  nomenclature,  would 
"     limit  to  sense-PercePtio11  tne  relations  of  time  and  space,  and  derive  from  the  under- 


Hamilton.  standing,  or  the  logical  faculty,  the  relation  of  substance  and  attribute.    It  is  noticeable 

that  Hamilton  does  neither.  While  by  definition  he  limits  relations  of  every  kind  to 
the  elaborative  faculty,  viz.,  the  intelligence,  in  his  explanation  of  perception,  he  includes  in  this  the  know- 
ledge  of,  and  by,  relations.  His  doctrine  of  immediate  perception  should  give  percepts  only  as  extended 
sense-objects,  but  he  makes  it  apprehend  qualities,  and  not  only  qualities,  but  qualities  of  three  classes,  in- 
volving all  the  metaphysical  relations  of  matter  to  matter,  and  of  matter  to  mind.  Moreover,  he  denies 
that  by  perception  we  have  any  knowledge  of  substance  at  all,  this  being  a  figment  necessary  to  thought, 
from  the  impotence  and  not  the  power  of  the  understanding.  The  immediate  perception  of  Hamilton,  on 
which  he  insists  so  earnestly,  in  his  own  exposition,  gives  only  the  knowledge  of  an  extended  percept— 
which,  in  his  metaphysical  theory,  is  relative  to  some  unknown  and  unknowable  substance  beyond—  and 
yet  as  he  contends,  we  have  immediate  perception  not  only  of  things  but  of  qualities,  and  not  only  of  quali. 
ties  but  of  qualities  in  three  classes. 

Were  the  knowledge  of  substance  and  attribute  the  product  of  generalization,  we  should  deny  it  to 
sense-perception,  which  by  our  definition  has  to  do  with  individual  objects  only  and  the  relations  wbich 
they  involve.  The  relation  is  not  originated  by  generalization,  however  much  it  may  be  furthered  anil 
widened  by  it.  It  is  therefore  appropriately  considered  here. 

Of    touch    and     §  167.  Thus  far  we  have  called  and  known  the  substance  as  the  object  which 

sight      percepts     jg  seen  an(j  touched,  and  its  attributes  as  capacities  to  occasion  the  sensations 

conjoined;  which 

13  substance,  and     of  smell,  taste,  and  sound.     We  have  connected  a  percept  with  a  percept  aa 

'  substance  and  attribute  —  a  leading  percept,  as  of  sight,  with  a  sensational  per- 
cept  as  of  smell  —  and  called  the  one  a  thing,  and  the  other  its  quality.  Let  us  push  our 
inquiries  a  step  backward,  and,  laying  aside  all  consideration  of  these  three  senses,  inquire, 
Which  is  the  substance  and  which  the  attribute  when  the  object  consists  solely  of  a  percept 
of  touch  and  a  percept  of  sight  conjoined  ?  We  answer,  The  one  which  is  viewed  as  a  percept 
—  i.  e.,  as  a  spatial  object  —  is  made  the  substance,  provided  it  is  viewed  in  the  relation  of 
cause  to  the  sense-element  involved  in  the  other.  The  object  as  touched  and  the  object  a* 
seen,  may  respectively  be  substances,  in  their  respective  relations  to  the  sensations  of  sight  and 
of  touch.  We  say,  it  is  white  —  i.  e.,  the  object  which  I  touch  ;  and  again,  it  is  hard  —  i.  e., 
the  object  I  see  —  the  touch-percept  and  sight-percept  being  each  in  their  turn  taken  as  beings. 

§  168.  Let  us  narrow  our  thought  still  more,  and  consider  singly  the  object 
When  either  are  touched  or  the  object  seen.  What  is  the  being  or  substance,  and  what  the 
taken  alone.  attribute  or  quality,  when  we  have  a  single  percept  only,  and  view  it  in  rela- 

tion to  the  sentient  mind  ?  We  reply,  The  object,  as  experienced  to  be,  is 
known  as  a  substance  when  considered  as  the  producer  of  the  sensation  which  is  the  condition 
of  the  perception.  The  tangible  or  visible  object,  as  a  being,  is  distinguishable  as  a  space- 
occupying  or  extended  something.  As  causing  or  producing  the  sensation  of  sight  or  touch, 
it  is  known  as  possessing  the  attribute  of  color  or  touch.  The  elements  involved  in  every 
act  of  sense-perception  provide  for  the  possibility  of  this  relation.  The  relation  is  not,  in  fact, 
discerned  until  the  mind  projects  and  brings  up  the  perceived  non-ego  and  the  sentient  ego  into 
the  same  field  of  vision,  by  a  reflex  and  comparing  act. 

The  sensation  —  i.  e.,  the  effect  —  is  not  the  property  or  quality  which  produces  it,  though 
the  two  are  called  by  the  same  name.  Sweetness  means  one  thing  when  it  is  said  to  be  in  the 
Bugar,  and  another  when  it  is  experienced  by  the  sentient  soul.  The  heat,  in  one  sense,  is 
ind  in  another  is  not,  in  the  fire. 

8  169.    A  single  additional  remark  is  required  concerning  the 

Attributive 

quality  of  form    attributes  or  properties  of  dimension  and  form,  in  material 
objects.    We  call  an  object  long  and  short,  round  and  square, 


§171.  THE  PEODUCTS    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  199 

and,  in  so  doing,  distinguish  the  being  from  its  attributes.  Here  we  ask 
again,  What  is  known  as  the  being  or  substance  ?  We  are  forced  to 
answer,  that  the  being  or  substance,  in  the  concrete  thinking  of  ordinary 
men,  is  regarded  as  that  which  is  touched  or  seen ;  and  this  is  the  sub- 
stance which  is  long  or  short,  round  or  square.  The  being  of  the  abstract 
thinker  is,  as  we  shall  see,  a  generalized  conception,  which  is  equivalent  to 
this  or  that  perceivable  or  knowable  thing  of  which  the  metaphysician 
says,  it  is  long  or  short,  round  or  square. 

But  with  the  metaphysical  conception  of  substance  and  qualities  we  need  at  present  have 
little  to  do.  The  questions  concerning  substance  and  attributes  in  the  general — concerning 
material  substance  in  particular,  and  concerning  the  various  divisions  of  sensible  qualities  into 
essential  and  accidental,  into  primary,  secondary,  and  secundo-primary — may  all  be  reserved 
for  a  more  advanced  stage  of  our  inquiries,  and  another  part  of  our  treatise  (P.  iv.  c.  vii). 

8  170.    Our  second  question  is,  Under  what  conditions  does 

Conditions       of     '  .  .  .  % 

permanent  per-    the  mind  attain    a   definite,   permanent   knowledge   of    the 

ception.  .  . 

objects  of  sense-perception,  whether  percepts  or  things,  so 
that  they  can  readily  be  recalled  and  recognized  ?  It  is  only  when  they 
are  placed  so  completely  in  the  possession  of  the  mind  as  to  be  at  its  dis- 
posal, that  the  process  of  perception  can  be  said  to  be  complete.  A  far 
larger  portion  of  the  objects  which  we,  in  some  sensje,  are  said  to  perceive, 
fail  entirely  to  be  perceived  to  any  effectual  result.  It  is  only  a  few  of 
the  myriads  which  we  know,  that  we  know  in  such  a  way  as  to  be  able  to 
retain  and  recall  them. 

When  this  is  done,  the  object  of  perception  is  converted  into  an  idea  or 
Ideation  of  image.  The  real  object  apprehended  by  the  mind  becomes  an  intellectual 
sense-objects.  object,  having  a  purely  ideal  or  psychical  existence.  By  some  writers  the 

special  term  ideation  is  appropriated  to  this  process.  Sense-perception  is  said 
to  be  complete  in  the  highest  stnse  when  its  object  is  ideated,  or  becomes  an  idea.  The  rela- 
tion of  the  idea  or  image  to  its  real  correlate  will  be  explained  in  its  place.  At  present  we  need 
only  notice  that  the  appropriate  result  of  the  process  of  sense-perception  is  that  it  gives  the 
power  to  recall  and  recognize  the  object  perceived. 

Held  say;*,  Essay  ii.  chap,  v.,  that  the  act  of  perception  involves  three  things,  of  which  the  first  in. 
"some  conception  or  notion  of  the  object  perceived."  It  is  evident  from  the  illustrations  which  he  gives 
of  his  meaning,  that  he  confounds  the  act  of  originally  gaining  knowledge  of  an  object  by  perceiving,  and 
the  act  of  recall i;  g  and  recognizing  the  object  afterwards.  He  should  have  said,  that  the  act  of  perception 
involves  ihe  gaining  or  forming  "  some  conception  or  notion  of  the  object  perceived,"  t.  e.,  the  perfonning 
a  process — which  results  in  the  acquisition  of  a  percept  or  idea. 

§  171.  But  as  every  perceived  object  is  composed  of  parts, 
wiicn  is  percep-  as  has  jus|,  been  shown  ;  it  follows  that  the  perception  of  a 

rion  complete  f  J  •        •  •• 

thing  can  only  be  complete  when  the  mind  attains  ideas  of 
the  parts  or  percepts  of  which  the  thing  is  composed,  and  of  the  parts  as 
related  to  one  another.  In  other  words,  the  mind  must  distinguish  the 
constituent  percepts  by  completed  or  perfect  acts  of  original  perception, 
and  combine  or  connect  these  percepts  into  things,  by  finished  acts  of  ac 


tOO  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  172. 

quired  perception.  It  is  obvious  that  it  is  impossible  to  have  an  idea  of 
the  whole,  without  an  idea  of  the  parts.  It  is  equally  obvious  that,  what- 
ever aids  in  the  attainment  of  a  distinct  and  permanent  idea  of  a  part, 
favors,  rather  than  hinders  the  gaining  of  an  idea  of  the  whole.  We  are 
naturally  led  to  consider  the  conditions  of  complete  perceptions  of  the 
parts  and  relations  of  material  things. 

Perceptions  of  objects,  in  order  to  be  complete  and  permanent,  must 
be  distinct  and  definite.  That  is,  the  objects  themselves  must  be  distin- 
guished from  other  objects. 

This  rule  holds  equally  of  percepts  and  of  things.  A  single  color,  sound,  touch,  taste, 
etc.,  in  order  to  be  mastered,  must  be  distinguished  from  every  other  color,  sound,  touch,  and 
*aste.  So  of  things :  a  chair  or  a  table,  a  house  or  horse,  a  pin  or  needle,  even  a  grain  of 
sand  or  a  particle  of  dust,  to  be  perceived  in  the  sense  described,  must  be  distinguished  from 
trery  other.  It  is,  of  course,  implied  that  the  power  of  distinguishing  is  gradually  developed, 
fo  the  infant,  many  colors  and  sounds,  tastes  and  touches,  are  indistinct,  which  to  the  senses 
of  the  adult  are  clearly  distinguished.  Even  many  individual  things  are  perceived  as  the 
same,  which,  to  a  more  practised  observer,  are  known  to  be  diverse.  We  name,  as  the  first 
condition . 

First   condition    8  172.    (] .)  Objects  are  most  easily  distinguished  which  are 

of  completed  per-      '  -,        •  i  i  •    i  M  • 

ception:   Ener-    apprehended  with  great  energy — which  are  very  strikingly 

gy,  contrast,  and  '         .  •     '-i  ,r.  i  • 

resemblance.  contrasted  with,  or  which  are  similar  to  other  objects.  A 
lively  color,  a  loud  sound,  a  positive  taste,  etc.,  are  more  readily  appre- 
hended than  a  color  which  is  faint,  a  sound  which  is  feeble,  or  a  taste 
which  is  not  positive.  Things  are  more  or  less  readily  perceived  with 
effect  and  permanence  according  as  the  percepts  of  which  they  are  con- 
stituted are  more  or  less  readily  known. 

The  definiteness  with  which  objects  are  perceived  depends  in  part  also 
on  their  likeness  or  unlikeness  to  other  objects  in  connection  with  which 
they  are  presented  to  the  mind.  Of  two  percepts  and  two  things  that  are 
very  similar,  and  of  two  that  are  very  unlike,  those  are  more  likely  to  be 
perceived  which  are  in  striking  contrast  to  each  other,  than  those  which 
closely  resemble  one  another.  Two  colors,  two  sounds,  etc.,  as  well  as 
two  apples  or  two  paintings,  are  each  more  readily  perceived  and  retained 
kf  they  are  strikingly  contrasted,  than  if  they  are  very  similar. 


The  likeness  or  unlikeness,  the  resemblance  and  contrast,  are  in  part  purely 
BUn|em contrasts,  objective, — pertaining  solely  to  the  object  perceived  as  related  to  the  powers 
rafective  and  of  sense-perception  supposed  to  belong  to  all  men.  In  part  they  are  sub- 
jective, and  arise  from  the  natural  or  acquired  capability  of  the  individual 
to  feel  and  know.  Thus,  one  class  of  persons  are  physically  incapable  of  distinguishing  differ- 
ent colors — as  those  who  are  color-blind.  Others,  who  can  discern  the  colors  which  are  com- 
inonly  named,  can  with  difficulty  distinguish  shades  of  color  that  are  nearly  allied.  Some  per- 
eons  are  very  insensible  to  differences  and  similarities  of  sounds,  to  which  others  are  keenlj 
alive.  Even  when  the  original  sensibility  of  the  senses  and  aptitudes  of  the  intellect  present 
no  diversity,  there  are  the  greatest  possible  differences  of  susceptibility,  arising  from  difference! 
of  habit  and  attention. 


§  174.  THE   PRODUCTS    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTION.  20t 

But  under  all  these  diversities  of  natural  and  acquired  susceptibility,  the  Ian 
Force  of  con-  enounced  holds  good,  that  objects  which  to  any  one  individual  percipient  arc 
trast*  nearly  alike,  are  less  likely  to  be  distinctly  perceived  and  retained :  whik 

those  which  are  set  off  against  others  by  a  positive  and  striking  contrast,  ar< 
far  more  likely  to  be  perceived  with  that  energy  which  is  essential  to  distinct  and  definite 
recall.  This  law  is  established  and  confirmed  both  by  observation  and  experience.  The  infant 
fixes  its  attention  on  those  percepts  and  those  things  which  are  positive  in  their  action  upon 
the  senses,  and  which  are  strikingly  contrasted  with  others.  A  bright  light  in  surrounding 
darkness,  as  a  sunbeam  through  the  shutter,  the  flame  of  a  lamp  with  its  distinct  outline,  a 
patch  of  bright  color,  a  shining  fire-iron — these  first  hold  the  eye  with  that  fixed  and  consider- 
ate attention  which  is  necessary  to  retention  and  recognition.  In  mature  life  the  same  law 
holds  good  :  objects  that  are  bright  and  distinct,  or  that  in  any  way  are  presented  in  contrast, 
are  those  which  are  most  readily  noticed  and  most  easily  remembered.  If  the  object  has  no 
interest  for  our  fellow-men,  but  has  a  special  interest  for  us  from  any  cause  whatever ;  we  need 
only  perceive  it,  to  be  able  to  retain  and  remember  it.  The  eye  and  the  hand,  the  ear  and  the 
tongue,  seek  first  of  all  to  define  the  objects  which  they  are  to  retain,  so  as  to  fix  and  hold  the 
attention,  and  carry  away  a  distinct  idea. 

§  173.  (2.)  Motion  heightens  the  contrasts  of  perceived 
Second  condition  obiects,  and  elves  definiteness  to  the  outline  and  limits,  espe- 

is  motion.  J  .    . 

cially  of  visible  percepts.  To  the  infant's  eye,  moving  objects 
are  the  first  which,  so  to  speak,  are  separated  from  the  undistinguished 
mass  of  blended  color,  in  which  the  world  of  matter  is  at  first  arrayed. 
From  this  extended  surface  of  color  certain  objects  are  detached,  as  the 
moving  lamp,  the  walking  person,  the  portable  furniture  and  utensils.  They 
pass  to  and  fro  athwart  the  background  upon  which  they  are  projected, 
and  are  brought  into  contrast  with  its  unbroken  surface,  till  they  take  their 
place  in  the  memory,  as  the  first  distinct  objects  with  which  it  is  provided. 
By  degrees  this  undistinguished  mass  of  blended  light  and  shade,  of  form 
and  color,  is  broken  up,  as  one  and  another  separate  percept  and  distin- 
guished thing  is  detached  by  the  mind's  observation  and  is  set  apart  in  the 
mind's  storehouse  as  a  distinct  idea.  The  influence  of  motion  is  not 
limited  to  visible  objects.  It  is  most  important  in  giving  distinct  per- 
cepts to  the  sense  of  touch.  The  hand  must  move  over  the  surface  felt, 
or  the  surface  must  move  over  the  hand,  to  leave  distinct  percepts  of  its 
limits  and  qualities. 

§  174.  (3.)  Repetition  is  an  efficient  and '  often  an  indispen- 
Third  condition,  sabie  condition  to  the  completion  of  an  act  of  perception. 

repetition.  m  . 

Even  the  simple  percept,  as  a  sound,  a  color,  a  taste,  is  more 
perfectly  mastered  by  being  apprehended  in  successive  acts  of  attention. 
If  several  percepts  are  to  be  united  as  a  single  and  separate  thing,  it  is 
still  more  requisite  that  they  be  often  apprehended  by  the  same  or  continu- 
ously connected  acts,  in  order  that  the  object  may  be  brought  completely 
into  possession  and  placed  entirely  at  command.  This  is  especially  neces- 
sary if  the  percept  or  object,  by  reason  of  its  spatial  extent  or  the  com- 
plexity of  its  elements,  is  beyond  the  power  of  the  mind  to  master  in  a 
single  act,  In  some  cases,  repetition  serves  to  make  the  impression  more 


202  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §175 

vivid  and  definite.     In  others,  it  is  required  in  order  that  there  be  anj 
impression  at  all. 

We  have  already  observed,  that  no  object  of  the  mind's  perception  can 
be  retained  unless  it  is  perceived  with  aroused  and  concentrated  energy. 
The  repetition  of  any  act.  if  not  excessive,  contributes  to  such  energy,  and 
hence  contributes  to  the  definiteness  and  permanence  of  the  object.  This 
is  the  general  law.  Its  application  to  individual  objects  varies  somewhat 
as  the  object  is  simple  or  complex,  as  it  can  be  mastered  by  a  single  effort. 
or  as  it  requires  a  succession  of  acts. 

Different  schools  of  psychologists  give  different  explanations  of  the  utility  and  necessity 
Need  of  repeti-  of  repeated  impressions,  according  to  the  fundamental  principles  by  which  their  school 
tion  accoj-ding^o  ^  characterized.  The  school  which  resolves  sense-perception  into  the  passive  reception 
Echool.  of  impressions  from  without,  explain  the  necessity  of  repetition  by  its  influence  in 

accumulating  a  stock  of  such  impressions  —  either  in  the  subjective  capacity  or  the  object- 
ive material. 

Ilerbart  and  Beneke  agree  in  this  view  of  the  nature  of  repetition  so  far  as  to  hold,  that  each  act  of 
sense-perception  leaves  an  impression  or  an  effect  behind  —  either  in  the  soul  itself,  or  a  force  acting  within 
the  soul.  Before  distinct  perception  is  attained  or  consciousness  is  developed,  there  jnust  be  many  repeated 
sensations  in  order  to  give  a  single  positive  or  distinct  perception.  These  are  all  accumulated,  each  rein- 
forcing the  other  —  till  at,  last,  by  the  addition  of  them  all,  the  mind  attains  a  distinct  and  definite  percept, 
as  of  a  single  color,  sound,  etc.  After  these  percepts  are  reached,  made  up  as  they  are  of  the  residua  of 
many  single  acts  of  sense,  it  is  necessary  that  these  again  be  perceived  in  combination  by  many  repeated 
acts,  before  the  mind  reaches  a  permanent  and  definite  perception  of  a  thing. 

The  effect  on  the  soul  is  called  by  Beneke  Spur  —  trace  or  relict,  Angde.gtJif.il  =  predisposition.  The  ef- 
fect of  Herbnrt  is  in  the  form  of  a  force  or  tendency  imparted  to  the  object  or  idea  —  and  is  called  a  residuum. 

In  other  words,  according  to  these  psychologists,  repetition  is  necessary  because  each  act  leaves  some 
effect  behind,  which  is  added  to  the  stock  already  accumulated,  the  final  result  of  the  accumulations  in  all 
cases  being  distinctness  and  permanence  in  the  object  perceived,  whether  it  be  a  simple  percept,  or  a  com- 
plex of  percepts  in  a  material  thing.  Their  error  lies  in  the  mistaken  or  defective  view  of  the  mind's 
activity  and  its  dependence  on  the  conditions  of  its  success,  which  they  adopt.  The  mind,  in  knowing 
generally,  and  in  perceiving  in  particular,  is  not  as  they  conceive  it,  the  passive  subject  of  impressions— 
of  which  there  must  be  a  certain  number  with  a  given  strength,  to  secure  a  definite  and  abiding  result, 
The  mind,  in  all  its  knowing—  and  consequently  in  all  its  perceiving  —  exercises  a  peculiar  act,  which  we 
have  defined  as  the  being  certain  that  some  object  is.  This  act  is  entirely  different  from  the  passive  recep- 
tion of  any  accumulation  of  impressions,  each  swelling  the  number  and  augmenting  the  strength  of  those 
which  have  gone  before.  So  far  as  the  act  of  knowing  is  concerned,  a  single  exercise  of  this  activity  is 
adequate  to  a  distinct  and  lasting  impression.  In  not  a  few  cases  a  single  effort  or  application  of  the  mind 
is  as  efficient  as  a  score,  in  order  to  effect  a  lasting  remembrance.  Let  the  attention  be  fixed  and  held, 
and  the  whole  force  of  the  mental  power  be  applied,  and  the  mind  cannot  but  receive  a  vivid  and  definite 
knowledge  of  a  distinctly  remembered  object.  A  single  stroke  upon  the  die  will  leave  a  sharp  and  clear  im- 
pression as  truly  as  many  and  oft-repeated  blows.  And  yet  in  point  of  fact,  it  is  observed,  that  to  the 
apprehension  of  most  objects,  many  applications  of  the  mind  are  required  ;  the  single  act  is  not  adequate  for 
a  permanent  impression;  a  single  acquisition  does  not  suffice.  How  is*  this  possible?  What  is  therein 
repetition  which  arouses  the  attention  so  as  to  fix  and  make  lasting  the  object?  This  question  will  be 
answered  under  the  two  following  heads. 


1^5'    (ffO  RePetiti°n  often  excites  and  gratifies  the  interest 
°^  tne  8OU^  ^  t^ie  °^Jects  perceived,  and  thus  arouses  and 
interest.    fixes  the  attention  upon  them  with  greater  energy. 

This  is  illustrated  by  the  example  of  many  single  per- 
cepts?11^6 per  cepts.  A  color  or  sound  gives  pleasure  when  once  perceived. 
Let  it  solicit  the  mind's  notice  a  second  time,  and  the  remem- 
brance of  the  gratification  which  it  gave  will  arouse  the  mind  to  attend 
with  increased  energy  to  the  object  which  had  previously  imparted  so  pleas- 
ant an  experience.  In  the  recollection  of  that  experience,  and  with  the 


§176.  THE    PRODUCTS   OF    SEXSE-PEROEPTIO.N.  205 

hope  of  its  renewal,  it  renews  again  all  its  energy  of  perception.  The  re- 
sult is  a  definite  remembrance  of  every  thing  which  the  man  is  competent  01 
prepared  to  know  in  respect  to  it.  When  the  attention  is  solicited  again, 
the  mind  at  once  responds  to  the  call,  withdraws  its  divided  or  distracted 
activity,  and,  according  to  its  sense  of  the  value  of  the  good  to  be 
enjoyed,  responds  with  an  energetic  and  attentive  gaze.  Each  new  look 
reveals  some  new  property  or  feature  unknown  before,  and  with  it  cornea 
some  new  enjoyment,  the  recollection  of  which  stimulates  to  renewed 
attention,  till  the  soul  is  satisfied  that  all  that  can  be  known  and  all  that 
can  be  enjoyed  has  been  exhausted.  By  this  time,  however,  the  object  has 
been  so  attentively  considered  that  it  cannot  be  lost. 

The  same  law  operates  in  the  apprehension  of  things,  or  of  many  percepts 
This  as  true  of  united  in  one.  Let  it  be  supposed  that  the  perception  of  these  in  their 
perceptif  ^  f  relations  gives  special  pleasure,  and  the  same  result  will  follow  as  in  the  per 
ception  of  single  objects.  The  mind  that  is  delighted  by  a  masterly  combi 
nation  of  sounds,  or  a  blending  of  colors,  or  mixture  of  tastes,  or  contrast  of  touches,  wil. 
repeat  the  perception  of  these  combinations  with  increased  interest  and  increased  attention. 
The  perceptions  gained  by  the  energies  thus  stimulated,  will  be  certain  to  remain. 

If  the  percepts  are  gained  by  different  senses,  as  in  those  combinations  which  we  call 
things  or  objects,  the  same  law  will  hold  good. 

It  often  happens  that  the  objects  which  solicit  our  attention  excite  no  special  interest  in 
themselves,  and  yet  some  feature  or  features  in  them  attracts  the  attention,  because  of  some 
relation  to  objects  in  which  we  are  especially  interested.  Thus,  a  hundred  faces  in  a  crowd,  a 
hundred  trees  in  a  wood,  a  hundred  horses  in  a  drove,  remind  us  of  nothing  about  which  we 
care.  We  give  to  each  and  all  an  uninterested  glance  ;  there  is  no  energetic  perception,  and 
of  course  no  definite  impression.  None  are  noticed,  and  all  are  forgotten. 

But  if  a  single  one  pleases  us,  because  it  brings  up  the  thought  of  any  object  which  it  is 
pleasant  to  think  of  ;  if  it  even  attracts  our  attention  sufficiently  to  inquire  whether  it  is  like 
or  unlike  that  which  it  is  pleasant  or  unpleasant  to  remember,  we  shall  so  attend  to  that  one 
as  to  retain  what  our  perception  gives. 


§  176-    (*•)  Repetition  is  still  more  essential  to  enable  the 
mni(l  to  unite  into  a  whole  the   separate  parts   of  objects 
jects.  which  cannot  be  grasped  by  a  single  act  of  perception.     The 

examples  already  cited,  belong  to  those  objects  which  require  but  a  single 
act  of  attention  in  order  to  be  completely  possessed  by  the  mind.  There 
is  a  very  large  class  of  objects,  however,  which  consist  of  too  many  parts 
to  be  known  by  a  single  effort  of  perception.  These  must  be  combined 
together  into  one,  by  successive  acts.  For  example,  if  we  perceive  a 
mathematical  figure  with  a  very  irregular  and  complicated  outline,  it  is 
necessary  that  we  view  it  in  separate  portions,  in  order  to  master  the 
whole.  Not  only  is  this  true,  but  we  often  need  to  review  each  portion 
which  we  have  already  perceived,  in  order  to  connect  it  with  the  part  which 
was  previously  perceived.  After  we  have  followed  the  outline  by  repeated 
acts  of  observation,  we  need  often  to  review  the  whole,  as  a  whole,  by  a 
rapid  succession  of  acts,  or  by  a  single  glance  of  the  eye,  to  unite  the  sev- 


204  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  1  76 

eral  parts.  If  we  look  at  a  painting,  we  study  its  several  parts,  perhaps 
for  hours  together,  in  order  to  gain  and  carry  away  a  distinct  and  satisfac- 
tory impression  of  the  whole.  If  we  look  at  the  front  of  an  edifice  that 
is  elaborately  adorned,  we  follow  the  several  features  one  by  one  in  theii 
order,  often  returning  upon  our  course,  that  we  may  retain  the  percep- 
tions which  we  have  gained. 

The  office  and  the  necessity  of  repetition  in  all  these  cases  are  peculiar,  and 
Seme  objects  are  .  .  '      trr       i.  ^     A   ^       •     ^ 

beyoi.dthenatu-    require  special  explanation.     We  observe,  first,  that  in  the  cases  supposed, 

•on!"1"*8  °f  *  ^e  °kject  *s  *°°  extensive  to  be  perceived  by  the  mind  in  a  single  act.  There 
are  spatial  and  numerical  limits  to  the  mind's  power  to  perceive  distinctly. 
K  the  object  within  this  limit  is  very  simple,  it  may  be  mastered  by  a  single  effort.  But  if  it 
i>\  complex,  and  consists  of  many  separable  or  distinguishable  parts,  it  becomes  necessary  to 
use  repetition,  not  because  the  space  is  too  extensive  to  be  distinctly  perceived  at  a  single 
effort,  but  because  the  number  of  objects  is  too  great  to  be  separately  contemplated  together 
by  any  single  act.  * 

Th  fi  t  r  ~^ut  w^v  mus*  tne  observer  give  a  second  look  to  the  parts  which  he  is  compe- 
tion  often  a  mere  tent  to  observe  at  a  single  glance  —  for  example,  to  objects  within  a  limited 
eryF  and  s^lec-  space  and  of  small  number  —  and  often  many  repeated  looks,  in  order  to  unite 
tion>  them  into  a  completed  impression  ?  Why  must  the  eye  run  again  and  again 

along  the  outline  of  an  irregular  and  extended  boundary,  or  over  the  face  of  a  large  edifice, 
before  it  can  fix  and  carry  away  a  definite  impression  of  the  whole  ?  The  general  answer  to 
the  question  is,  that  it  must  do  this  for  two  reasons  :  first,  in  order  that  it  may  seek  out  and 
discover  what  it  can  find  ;  and  second,  that  when  it  has  discovered  what  is  there,  it  may  deter- 
mine what  it  will  select  as  worthy  of  those  efforts  of  attention  which  are  requisite  for  a  com- 
plete and  permanent  perception.  The  first  efforts  of  the  eye  upon  such  an  object  are  like 
royages  of  discovery  or  movements  of  military  recomioissance.  They  serve  the  same  pur- 
pose as  the  use  of  the  finding-glass  of  a  telescope.  The  eye  runs  hither  and  there  with  a 
rague  and  quickly-shifting  gaze.  It  finds  one  feature  after  another  which  excites  its  interest 
and  attracts  its  attention,  and  thus  learns  in  a  general  way  what  material  is  present  for  it  to 
work  upon.  After  this  preliminary  work,  a  second  and  still  another  look  may  be  required, 
that  the  mind  may  determine  which  of  these  parts  it  is  worth  while  to  unite  together  into  a 
continuous  and  connected  whole,  by  successive  acts  of  attentive  perception.  That  this  view  is 
correct,  is  manifest  from  the  difference  which  we  notice  between  observing  a  complex  object 
When  seen  for  the  first  time,  and  when  it  has  become  familiar  by  repeated  acts  of  perception. 
If  the  object  is  new  and  strange,  we  must  view  it  again  and  again  in  order  to  bring  away  any 
distinct  perception.  If  it  is  familiar,  or  like  a  familiar  object,  a  single  and  hasty  look  is  often 
enough  to  secure  a  clear  and  permanent  knowledge.  In  such  a  case  we  know  beforehand 
fhat  we  expect  to  find,  and  to  what  points  we  need  to  direct  the  eye  in  order  to  assure  our- 
selves. If  parts  of  the  objects  differ  slightly  from  those  previously  perceived,  or  those  which 
we  expect  to  find,  these  are  noticed  at  once,  and  the  new  perception  is  corrected  accordingly. 
In  the  other  case,  we  do  not  know  beforehand  what  we  are  to  find,  and  we  must  use  repeated 
efforts  in  order  to  determine  what  there  is  to  be  found,  and  what  we  will  select  as  worthy  of 
preservation. 

When  the  object  contains  a  greater  number  of  parts  than  we  can  grasp  at  a 
single  view>  tnere  is  need  of  repetition  for  another  reason.     Let  the  outline 


require  repeti-  of  a  mathematical  figure  be  made  up  of  many  sides,  or  the  face  of  an  edifice 
consist  of  a  very  great  number  of  salient  features,  and  it  is  impossible  —  let 
either  be  ever  so  familiar  —  that  they  be  perceived  distinctly  by  any  single  effort  of  percep- 
tion. The  eye  must  pass  around  the  outline,  or  sweep  across  the  face  by  successive  acts,  an4 
master  each  portion  in  detail,  in  order  to  perceive  the  whole  so  as  to  recall  it  Such  objecti 


§177.  THE   PRODUCTS    OF    SEXSE-PESCKPTlOtf. 

are  perceived  in  parts  under  the  law  of  natural  limitation  to  which  the  senses  are  sutject. 
They  must  be  recalled  by  successive  acts,  because  they  can  be  recalled  only  in  obedience  t« 
the  laws  of  those  relations  under  which  they  are  originally  perceived.  To  fix  these  conneo 
tions,  attention  is  necessary.  In  order  to  know  what  these  relations  are  to  which  it  is  desirs 
ble  successively  to  attend,  repetition  is  required. 

In  surveying  large  objects,  or  those  which  are  very  complex,  repetition  becomes  necessarj 
for  the  double  purpose  of  fixing  in  the  memory  the  parts  of  which  the  object  is  composed 
and  of  so  connecting  together  these  parts  in  a  continuous  whole,  that  they  can  be  revived  in 
succession,  under  the  laws  of  association. 

More  fre  went  Her6  again  We  notice  a  strikmg  difference  between  objects  that  are  regular 
repetition  ?f  the  and  uniform,  and  those  which  are  irregular  and  multiform.  Of  two  figures 
'  of  fifty  sides,  let  one  be  a  regular  and  another  an  irregular  polygon.  Let  the 
facade  of  a  building  be  made  of  similar  parts  combined  after  a  uniform  law 
of  recurrence  and  symmetry ;  or  let  the  parts  have  no  relation  of  likeness,  order,  or  corre 
spondence.  A  few  repetitions  of  attention  enable  us  to  master  the  one ;  very  many  are  re- 
quired  to  put  us  in  possession  of  the  other.  In  the  case  of  the  regular  object,  we  first  per 
ceive  that  the  parts  are  arranged  in  a  certain  order  which  is  repeated — either  exactly,  or  with 
inconsiderable  deviations.  To  learn  what  this  order  is,  may  require  several  consecutive  act§ 
of  close  attention.  But  when  this  order  is  learned,  and  the  elements  of  each  group  are  dis. 
cerned,  the  mind  is  in  a  condition  to  recall  the  whole,  by  its  mastery  of  a  single  series  of  the 
parts.  If  the  parts  of  the  object  are  arranged  in  no  discernible  order,  especially  if  they  are 
very  numerous,  they  must  be  apprehended  in  detail,  a  few  only  together.  These  few  must 
then  be  connected  with  the  adjoining  group  by  another  attentive  act,  and  so  on  till  all  are  per- 
ceived, and  the  mind  is  in  a  condition  to  recall  the  whole. 

Fourth  condi-  §  1^^<  (*•)  Familiar  objects  are  readily  and  rapidly  per- 
fuTPercep"ionSK  ceived.  Novel  or  unfamiliar  objects  are  slowly  and  pain- 
familiarity.  fully  mastered.  The  fact  is  unquestioned.  The  explanation 
of  it  is  furnished  by  the  principles  which  have  been  already  laid  down. 

Familiar  objects,  either  single  percepts  or  combinations  of  percepts, 
are  such  as  have  been  often  distinguished  from  others.  When  the  con- 
stituent percepts  are  familiar,  as  shades  of  color,  sounds,  forms,  touches, 
tastes,  and  smells,  the  mind  is  ready  to  attend  to  them  and  to  know  them 
with  little  effort,  being  guided  in  directing  and  fixing  hs  attention  by  it« 
remembrance  of  what  it  had  perceived  before,  and  incited  to  attention  by 
remembered  pleasure.  If  the  combination  is  also  familiar — i.  e.,  the  union 
of  the  taste  or  smell  with  the  color,  or  the  touch  with  the  form — the  same 
law  holds  good.  In  looking  at  an  individual  chair  or  table  which  I  have 
often  perceived,  or  the  aspect  of  which  is  familiar,  one  percept  prepares  the 
way  for  the  other — the  color  for  the  form,  the  form  for  the  weight ;  one 
part  for  another,  as  the  leg,  for  the  back  of  the  chair  or  the  bed  of 
the  table ;  so  that  the  mind  is  at  once  prepared  for  what  it  expects  and 
readily  apprehends  what  its  attention  is  waiting  for. 

But  let  the  object  be  unfamiliar,  we  are  detained  ipon  its  parts  in  the  way  already  ex 
plained,  in  order  that  we  may  discover  what  they  are,  so  far  is  to  decide  which,  if  any,  shall 
receive  our  attention.  If  a  novel  piece  of  furniture  is  seen,  or  a  new  implement,  or  an  edifice 
singularly  planned,  or  a  work  of  art  executed  after  peculiar  principles,  or  if  an  animal  01 
plant  of  an  unfamiliar  species  or  a  dress  of  a  new  fashion,  are  presented  for  our  inspection^ 


206  THE    HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §  1?9, 

we  find  it  necessary  to  look  again  and  again  at  the  object.     We  must  feel  our  way  step  by 
step  and  part  by  part,  to  find  the  parts  of  which  it  consists,  so  that  we  can  recall  them. 

8  178.   The  acts  of  repeated  perception  which  are  required 

Repetition     not     \  ,  ,     .,       .  . 

necessarily  rec-    m  such  cases,  are  not  to  be  confounded  with  acts  of  recog, 
nition,  or  acts  of  comparison  for  the  purpose  of  discerning 
similarities  or  other  relations. 

Acts  of  recognition  and  of  comparison  do  indeed  usually  accompany 
these  efforts  of  perception.  But  though  they  often  facilitate,  they  do 
not  constitute  the  acts.  This  is  manifest  from  the  nature  of  the  case.  A 
single  percept,  and  an  object  consisting  of  several  percepts,  must  first  be 
perceived  in  order  to  be  recognized.  It  must  be  known  the  first  time, 
or  by  a  first  act,  in  order  to  be  known  the  second  time,  or  by  a  subsequent 
act.  So,  two  objects  must  be  perceived,  before  they  can  be  compared 
and  discerned  to  be  similar  or  alike. 

Recognition  and  comparison  accompany  perception,  but  they  are  no  parts  of  the  act. 
They  greatly  facilitate  the  act,  but  they  do  not  enter  into  the  act  itself.  Perception  ig 
developed  along  with  these  higher  activities.  The  higher  activities,  in  their  turn,  stimulate 
and  guide  the  lower.  The  perceptions  of  the  infant  —  and  often  of  the  cultivated  —  are  lim- 
ited, because  the  range  of  its  recognitions  and  comparisons  is  narrow.  But  within  this  range 
they  are  often  more  acute  and  discriminating,  because  they  are  concentrated  upon  fewer 
objects,  and  are  disturbed  by  fewer  distracting  questions  of  sameness  or  similarity.  The 
child  and  the  hunter,  the  sailor  and  the  fisherman,  have  sharper  and  acuter  vision  than  the 
adult  and  the  philosopher,  not  merely  because  their  organs  of  sense  are  in  higher  physical  per- 
fection, but  because  they  are  practised  upon  fewer  objects,  and  the  mental  force  of  attention 
is  fixed  with  greater  interest,  and  therefore  concentred  with  greater  energy.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  educated  man  often  sees  in  the  same  object,  and  even  with  the  eye  of  sense,  much 
more  than  the  child  or  savage  can  see,  with  his  acuter  bodily  organs,  simply  because  his 
wider  range  of  knowledge  prepares  him  to  look  for  more,  and  to  appreciate  it  when  it  is  pre- 
sented. 

Some  psychologists  distinguish  perception  from  sensation  thus  :  c  a  sensation,  when  recognized  as 
similar  to  one  previously  experienced,  becomes  a  perception.'  So  Herbert  Spencer:  "As  there  can  be  no 
classification  or  recognito  >n  of  objects  without  perception  of  them  ;  so  there  can  be  no  perception  of  them 
•without  classification  or  recognition."  "A  perception  of  it  [an  object]  can  arise  only  when  the  group  oi 
sensations  is  consciously  coordinated,  and  their  meaning  understood.'4  "  The  perception  of  any  object, 
therefore,  is  impossible,  save  under  the  form  of  recognition  or  classification."  Principles  of  Psychology, 
$  46.  London,  1855. 

Morell  says  :  "  To  perceive  a  thing,  means,  first  of  all,  to  recognize  it  ;  "  and  again  :  "  When  we  come 
to  perceive  special  objects,  then  it  is  implied  that  we  not  only  recognize,  but  that  we  also  begin  to  classify 
them."—  Introduction  to  Mental  Philosophy,  pp.  85,  86.  London,  1862.  That  this  is  really  impossible  and 
logically  self-contradictory,  is  obvious  from  what  has  been  said.  Recognition  and  classification  attend  and 
assist  perception,  but  they  do  not  constitute  the  act.  It  is  obvious  that  this  definition  would  exclude  from 
the  act  of  perception-proper,  all  that  is  material  to  it,  or  by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  sensation-proper, 
Viz.  :  the  apprehension  of  spatial  relations  and  of  externality.  Neither  of  these  are  necessarily  involved  in 
the  recognition  or  comparison  of  sensations.  The  view  would  limit  us  to  a  purely  idealistic  theory. 


Continuance  of  §  ^®'  (^*)  ^  complete  an^  successful  perception,  some 
r?6  sucTasfal  continuance  of  time  is  necessary.  The  necessity  for  time  is 
perception.  partly  physical  or  organic,  and  partly  mental  or  psychical. 

The  organic  necessity  lies  in  the  unexplained  and  ultimate  fact,  that  in 
$rder  to  a  complete  and  definite  physical  impression  upon  the  organ,  thera 


§180.  THE   PRODUCTS    OP    SENSE-PERCEPTION.  2Ui 

must  be  a  continued  action  of  its  excitant  or  stimulus  for  a  brief  but 
appreciable  period.  The  eye  and  the  ear,  and  the  other  organs,  with  their 
connected  nervous  apparatus,  must  be  occupied  with  that  which  excites 
them,  in  order  to  give  a  sensation  of  which  the  mind  can  avail  itself  to 
distinct  perception.  Indeed,  after  the  stimulant  has  ceased  to  affect  the 
organ,  the  sensation,  and  with  it  the  perception,  remains,  as  is  evident 
from  the  experiment  by  which  we  revolve  a  burning  coal  so  swiftly  as 
to  perceive  a  circle  of  fire.  These  after-sensations,  in  many  abnormal  con- 
ditions of  the  system,  are  ludicrously  and  fearfully  conspicuous  in  their 
effects,  and  produce  spectral  illusions  and  hallucinations  in  manifold  varie- 
ties. All  that  we  need  notice  here,  is  the  possibility  that  a  sensation  may 
continue  after  its  excitant  is  withdrawn. 

The  psychical  necessity  is  obvious  from  the  fact  that  the  mind  can 
remit  or  increase  the  energy  of  the  organ  by  its  own  voluntary  agency, 
and  that,  to  exert  this  energy,  also  requires  time,  if  for  no  other  reason, 
because  the  mind  acts  through  and  under  the  laws  of  its  physical  organ- 
ism. An  increase  of  energy  in  a  part  or  the  whole  of  the  organism  is  an 
affair  of  time,  and  is  often  a  measure  of  its  lapse. 

In  those  acts  by  which  several  percepts  are  connected  and  combined,  time  is  also  required. 
If  the  mind  cannot  master  a  single  percept  without  continued  attention,  much  less  can  it  con- 
nect several  under  any  common  relation  without  requiring  an  appreciable  portion  of  duration. 
Whenever  the  mind  must  not  only  attain  a  definite  apprehension  of  the  separate  percepts,  but 
must  regard  them  as  related  together ;  to  each  of  these  attainments,  and  to  all  united,  a  con- 
tinued effort  is  necessary,  and  a  considerable  period  of  duration. 

Jugglers,  prestidigitators,  etc.,  perform  many  of  their  feats  by  having  acquired 
involve  quick-  a  capacity  of  rapid  movement  which  does  not  allow  time  enough  for  the 
meSnt  °*  move"  sense-perceptions  of  lookers-on  to  respond  to  the  objects.  Often  they  do 
not  furnish  time  enough  for  the  requisite  impressions  to  be  made  upon  the 
sense-organs.  Still  more  frequently  they  do  not  furnish  time  in  which  perception  or  intelli- 
gence may  perceive  the  objects  in  their  relations,  so  as  to  discriminate,  construct,  and  interpret 
what  the  sense-organs  respond  to.  Quickness  of  movement  and  quickness  of  thought  are  the 
prime  requisites  for  a  successful  juggler.  To  this  should  be  added  the  capacity  to  divert  the 
attention  by  lively  sallies,  by  sudden  gestures,  rapid  speech,  exciting  tones,  and  a  bold  address, 
as  well  as  skill  in  inventing  the  physical  appliances  of  illusion.  A  man  endowed  by  nature 
with  aptitudes  like  these,  who  has  learned  to  make  them  efficient  by  art,  can  almost  cheat  the 
eyes  and  ears  of  the  soberest  and  most  practised  observer. 

§  180.  It  is  in  place  here  to  consider  the  loctrine  which  is 
to  more  than  one  insisted  on  so  earnestly,  particularly  by  Dugald  Stewart 

(Elements,  c.  ii.),  that  the  mind,  in  perception,  can  attend  to 
but  one  object  at  a  time.  This  position  he  endeavors  to  sustain  and  co- 
force  by  examples  like  the  following :  In  viewing  a  mathematical  figure, 
say  of  a  thousand  sides,  we  view  each  side  by  a  separate  effort  of  atten- 
ti  ve  regard,  till  we  have  passed  around  the  outline  by  successive  acts  of 
perception.  The  eye  and  the  mind  do  this  so  rapidly,  that  when  the  out* 
line  is  not  very  complicated,  they  seem  to  grasp  and  master  the  whole  by 


208  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §180 

a  single  and  instantaneous  act.  So,  in  listening  to  a  concert  of  music,  we 
think  we  hear  —  i.  e.,  attentively  listen  to  —  all  the  instruments  and  separate 
parts  together,  whereas  we  in  fact  can  attend  to  but  one.  When  we  seem 
to  ourselves  to  listen  to  all,  we  in  fact  pass  so  rapidly  from  one  to  another 
as  to  think  we  attend  to  all  together.  When  Stewart  is  called  to  explain 
what  he  means  by  a  single  object,  he  defines  it,  in  connection  with  the 
tye,  as  the  minimum  visibile  —  that  is,  the  smallest  extension  of  color  or 
shaded  light  by  which  the  eye  can  be  affected.  In  respect  to  the  ear,  he 
ought,  by  a  similar  rule,  to  assert  that  the  minimum  audibile,  or  the  sim- 
plest and  shortest  appreciable  sound  only,  can  be  attended  to  at  a  single 
instant. 

The  theory  of  Stewart  labors  under  the  following  difficul- 
t*es  :  ^  exclu<^es  *'ne  possibility  of  comparing  objects  with 
one  another.  In  order  to  compare  objects  so  as  to  discern  thai 
they  are  alike  or  diverse,  they  must  be  considered  together  —  that  is,  they 
must  be  attentively  perceived  in  combination.  We  cannot  see  that  two 
surfaces  of  color  are  alike  or  unlike,  without  perceiving  them  both  in  con- 
nection, and  perceiving  them  both  by  a  single  attentive  act.  In  the  cases 
supposed  by  Stewart  of  the  several  sides  of  a  complicated  outline,  or  the 
separate  sounds  of  the  instruments  in  an  orchestra,  the  parts  of  the  figure 
must  be  considered  together,  to  be  known  to  be  adjoining,  near,  or  re- 
mote :  the  separate  notes  or  sounds  also  must  be  heard  together,  to  be 
discerned  to  be  alike  or  harmonious,  to  be  known  as  higher  or  lower,  or  to 
be  connected  as  before  and  after  one  another.  It  is  obvious  that  the  mind 
can  apprehend  more  than  a  single  object  at  once.  If  it  could  not,  it  would 
be  forever  and  entirely  cut  off  from  the  most  important  part  of  its  knowl 
edge,  viz.,  the  knowledge  of  relations  ;  which  knowledge  can  only  be 
attained  by  the  apprehension  of  at  least  two  objects  together. 

It  may  perhaps  be  said,  that  what  Stewart  intended  to  assert  was  this  :  that 
Attention  to  an  in  sense-perception  the  mind  can  only  attend  to  one  object  at  the  same  indi- 
imagc.  and  '  visible  instant  ;  that  in  those  cases  in  which  it  compares  two  objects,  it  con- 

nects  an  object  perceived  with  an  object  represented,  a  percept  with  a  repre- 
sentation. For  example,  in  viewing  a  complex  outline,  or  hearing  the  sounds  of  an  orchestra, 
it  sees  at  a  present  instant  a  single  side  or  the  smallest  possible  part  of  a  side  —  the  minimum 
visibile  —  or  hears  a  single  sound  or  note,  and,  while  seeing  or  hearing,  compares  with  it  the 
side  just  seen  or  the  sound  just  heard  before.  But  in  order  to  do  this,  it  must  apprehend  a 
the  same  undivided  instant  of  time  both  the  side  which  is  seen  and  the  side  which  is  remem- 
bered. The  doctrine  that  the  mind  can  apprehend  or  know  but  a  single  object  at  a  single 
instant  of  time,  must  be  abandoned  as  incompatible  with  all  the  higher  functions  and  acqui. 
aiti  MIS  of  the  soul,  as  well  as  with  the  most  obvious  facts  within  our  experience. 


Th(  mind  can  -^ut  ^  *s  not  true  ^at,  *n  senge-perception  even,  the  mind  can 
?haf  ?done  thin*  aPPrenen^  but  a  single  object  at  a  time.  The  mind  must  be 
at  f,  time.  abie  to  apprehend  more  than  one  object  of  sense,  because  its 

attention  is  so  readily  turned  from  one  to  another.     Among  many  objects 


§  180.  THE    PRODUCTS    OF   SENSE  PERCEPTION.  209 

that  are  equally  before  its  gaze,  it  singles  out  one,  concentrates  all  its 
energy  upon  it,  and  then  suddenly  leaves  it,  fixing  on  another  ;  and  so 
passes  from  one  to  another  with  a  rapidity  that  surprises  itself.  This  it 
could  not  do  unless  it  were  able  to  apprehend  many  objects  by  a  vague 
perception  of  their  existence.  The  single  fact  that  the  eye  can  perceive  a 
wide  extent  of  space,  viewing  all  parts  equally  well,  compels  us  to  believe 
that  this  extended  object,  containing  many  within  its  limits,  is  appre- 
hended by  the  mind  as  made  up  of  many  parts,  and  that  these  parts,  or 
single  objects,  can  all  be  seen  by  a  single  act. 

ran  the  mind  But  Can  tbe  mind  use  the  utmost  energJ  of  attention  upon  more  than  a  single 
use  the  utmost  object  of  sense  ?  This  question,  if  it  could  be  answered  satisfactorily,  would 


ne     Sive  but  little  satisfaction  to  the  mind,  for  the  reason  that  it  very  rarely  hap- 
object?  pens  that  the  mind,  in  perception,  employs  its  utmost  energy  of  attention. 

It  scarcely  ever  happens  that  single  objects,  in  the  sense  of  minima  visibilia,  or  minima 
audibilia,  are  perceived  at-  all  The  smallest  possible  percept  rarely  occupies  the  attention. 
Then  again,  the  mind  rarely,  if  ever,  puts  forth  its  utmost  energy.  Attention  is  an  affair  of 
degree,  which  varies  with  each  condition  or  status  of  the  soul.  If,  then,  it  were  theoretically 
true  that  the  utmost  conceivable  energy  of  attention  must  necessarily  be  fixed  and  concentred 
on  the  smallest  possible  percept,  the  supposed  case  would  never  occur  in  fact.  It  might  be 
true,  notwithstanding,  that  great  energy  of  attention  could  be  fixed  on  two  percepts,  or  even 
on  more  than  two  material  things. 

The  material  point  to  be  decided  is,  whether  the  mind  can  at  once  apprehend  or  atten- 
tively know  more  than  a  single  object.  This  being  decided  in  the  affirmative,  all  other  ques- 
tions are  of  little  interest.  It  is  enough  that  we  are  certain  that  objects  cannot  be  effectively 
known  except  they  are  known  in  their  relations.  To  the  knowledge  of  relations,  the  knowl- 
edge of  at  least  two  related  objects  is  necessary.  To  successful  or  permanent  knowledge,  eveu 
of  relations,  attention  is  requisite.  The  mind  must  then  be  able  to  attend  to  more  than  a 
gingle  object.  Inasmuch,  also,  as  by  far  the  most  important  of  our  sense-perceptions  are  con- 
cerned with  the  union  of  percepts  either  of  the  same  or  different  senses,  it  follows  as  highly 
probable,  if  not  as  absolutely  certain,  that  the  mind  can  attentively  perceive  more  than  a  single 
percept.  Whether  the  mind,  in  the  same  act  of  perception,  can  or  usually  does  attend  with 
equal  energy  to  each  of  several  percepts,  is  a  question  which  might  be  prosecuted  with  some 
show  of  reason.  When  we  view  two  or  more  objects  together  for  the  purpose  of  comparing 
them,  and  strain  the  mind  to  its  utmost  energy,  the  excess  of  energy  is  directed  now  to  one 
and  now  to  another.  Both  are  attended  to,  but  not  with  the  same  intenseness.  This  is  ordi- 
narily observed  to  occur.  The  mind  regards  one  object  with  more  attention  than  the  other, 
in  order  that  it  may  receive  a  vivid  and  distinct  impression  of  it,  and  then  compares  or  in  some 
other  way  connects  it  with  that  received  from  the  other.  When  this  is  done,  the  process  of 
comparison  or  connection  is  complete.  This  fact  or  phenomenon  has  given  occasion  to  the 
unwarranted  and  impossible  inference,  that  the  mind  can  attend  to  but  a  single  object  at  the 
game  indivisible  instant. 

14 


210  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §18 1 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


ACTIVITY    OP   THE    SOUL   IN   SENSE-PERCEPTION. 

THE  foregoing  analysis  of  the  process  of  sense-perception  into  its  constituent  elements,  and  its 
successive  stages,  has  assumed  that,  so  far  as  perception  is  an  act  of  knowledge,  it  is 
essentially  active.  So  far  as  the  analysis  has  shown  itself  to  be  correct,  so  far  may  it  be 
considered  as  an  indirect  argument  in  support  of  this  assumption.  The  correct  doctrine 
in  regard  to  this  subject  is,  however,  so  important,  not  only  in  its  relation  to  the  nature 
and  the  trustworthiness  of  knowledge  in  general,  but  also  in  its  special  bearing  upon  the 
higher  functions  of  the  soul,  as  well  as  upon  a  correct  theory  of  the  nature  of  the  soul 
itself,  that  it  deserves  and  even  requires  a  separate  discussion.  Inasmuch,  also,  as  the 
special  form  and  results  of  perception  depend  very  largely  upon  what  are  called  the 
active  powers  of  the  soul,  viz.,  the  appetites,  the  emotions,  and  the  will,  we  embrace 
within  our  discussion  a  recognition  of  the  influence  of  the  springs  of  action  upon  the 
intellect.  For  this  reason  we  hav«  adopted  for  the  title  of  this  chapter,  '  the  activity  of 
the  soul  in  sense-perception.' 

8  181.    The  impression  is  very  common,  that  the  soul,  in  its 

Sense-perception      ' 

held  to  be  pas-    sense-perceptions,  is  simply  receptive  or  material  objects — 

Bive  only.  .  . 

that  it  passively  receives  or  submits  to  whatever  impressions 
are  imprinted  upon  it  from  without,  exerting  no  active  agency  of  its  own. 

By  many,  this  impression  is  stated  as  a  positive  doctrine,  which  is  consistently  carried  out 
into  all  its  logical  inferences  and  applications.  Thus  Kant  and  his  disciples,  as  well  as  many 
psychologists  not  of  his  school,  assert  that  the  soul,  in  sense-perception — as  indeed  in  all  the 
intuitions  of  consciousness — is  simply  receptive,  while  in  the  higher  functions  of  thought  it  is 
self-active.  So  far  is  this  doctrine  carried,  that  a  distinction  is  made  between  the  forms  of 
intuition  on  the  one  hand,  which  are  called  receptivities,  and  made  to  pertain  to  the  passive 
nature  of  the  soul,  and  the  forms  of  thought  on  the  other,  which  are  supposed  to  belong  to 
tue  soul's  active  energy. 

Psychologists  of  the  materialistic  school,  and  many  who  are  not  materialists,  but  are  more 
or  less  influenced  by  forms  of  expression  and  habits  of  association  that  are  borrowed  from 
materialistic  theories,  not  only  assert  that  the  mind  is  passive  in  its  sense-perceptions,  but  even 
in  the  higher  activities  of  imagination  and  thought.  Locke  often  inadvertently  expresses  him- 
self in  language  and  by  illustrations  and  analogies  borrowed  from  the  physics  of  his  time. 
Condillac  not  only  makes  all  sensations  to  be  impressions  imprinted  upon  the  tabula  rasa% 
but  makes  all  ideas,  or  the  intellectual  copies  of  sensations,  to  be  simply  '  transformed  sensa« 
tions.'  With  him  agree  in  principle  the  ideologists  of  the  French  school.  The  schools  of 
Beneke  and  Herbart  in  Germany,  as  also  Herbert  Spencer  and  his  disciples  in  England  and 
America,  all  formally  accept  and  positively  teach  the  same  doctrine,  or  unconsciously  assume 
it  to  be  true  in  their  theories  and  discussions. 

The  grounds  on  which  these  theories  and  assumptions  rest 
which  the  theory  are  the  following:  1.  The  general  misconception  of  the 

nature  of  the  soul,  and  the  powers  and  laws  of  its  working, 
by  which  it  is  invested  with  material  properties,  and  interpreted  by  mate' 


§183.  ACTIVITY    OF    THE    SOUL   IN   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  21  i 

rial  analogies.     This  misconception  has  been  already  explained  and  dis 
cussed  sufficiently,  and  needs  no  further  elucidation  (cf.  §  25). 

2.  The  unquestioned    fact,    that  the  soul,  in  sense-perception,  appre 
hends  and  acts  by  means  of  a  material  organism,  and  has  to  do  solely  with 
material  objects.      This  fact   cannot  be  disputed.      It   is   not  surprising 
that  the  inference  should  be  derived,  that  that  which  acts  by  means  of 
matter  as  its  instrument,  and  upon  matter  as  its  object,  must  itself,   at 
least  in  these  classes  of  its  activities,  follow  the  laws  of  matter  so  far  as 
to  be  capable  of  action  only  so  far  as  it  is  acted  upon,  and  to  depend  on 
matter  not  only  to  arouse  it  to  action,  but  for  the  degree  of  energy  to 
which  it  can  be  excited. 

3.  The   soul   is   known   to  be  entirely  dependent  on  matter  for  the 
objects  which  it  perceives.     It  cannot  perceive  any  material  object  when 
the  object  or  stimulus  does  not  exist.     Moreover,  the  efficiency  of  the 
material  organ  or  instrument  which  it  employs,  depends  on  the  material 
conditions  which  are  required  for  healthful  and  vigorous  activity. 

That  the  eoui  is  §  182'  ^e  maintain  that  in  sense-perception  the  intellect  is 
active,  and  for  the  following  reasons  :  The  soul,  in  sense- 
perception,  is  known  through  consciousness  to  be  active, 
and  in  a  special  sense  to  be  self-active.  To  perceive  by  the  senses,  is  only 
a  special  form  of  the  soul's  general  capacity  or  power  to  know.  To 
know,  is  not  to  receive  or  suffer  an  impression,  but  to  be  certain  of  a  fact  ; 
and  whatever  may  be  true  of  the  objects  which  are  known,  or  of  the 
instrument  or  conditions  by  which  these  objects  are  brought  within  the 
reach  of  the  mind's  activity,  these  do  not  in  the  least  affect  the  nature  of 
the  activity  itself.  So  far  as  this  function  is  exercised,  the  soul  is  simply 
self-active,  and  as  truly  so  as  in  those  higher  functions  in  which  the 
objects  and  conditions  of  this  activity  are  only  spiritual  (cf.  §  46). 

To  know,  is  not  only  to  be  certain  of  existing  facts  or  realities,  but  it  is  also  to  apprehend 
these  facts  in  certain  relations.  The  facts  or  beings  known  differ  somewhat  in  their  nature  in 
different  kinds  of  knowledge  ;  in  the  case  of  sense-perception,  these  beings  are  material.  The 
volations  apprehended  differ  according  to  the  kind  of  knowledge  ;  to  the  knowledge  of  matter, 
iv  limited  class  of  relations  only  being  essential.  But  knowledge  is  knowledge,  whatever  may 
be  the  nature  or  extent  of  the  facts  or  relations  which  are  involved  and  required.  To  appre- 
i,end  the  existence  and  the  relations  of  sense-objects,  must  of  necessity  be  an  intellectual  act, 
and  it  may  involve  an  active  process.  It  cannot  be  conceived  or  defined  as  a  state  of  passive- 
ness  or  receptivity  only.  Its  conditions  may  involve  reception  and  suffering  in  some  stage  of 
the  process.  The  preparation  of  its  objects  may  involve  the  subjection  of  the  sentient  organ- 
ism,  and  of  the  soul  which  animates  it,  to  material  forces  and  laws  ;  but  the  acts  CT  processes 
by  which  the  objects  thus  presented  are  known  apart  or  are  united,  are  active,  and  active  only 
They  cannot  be  conceived  as  any  thing  besides. 


vyde-    §  183'  '^iat  tne  sou^  *s  actiye  m  sense-perception,  is  evident 
ancerfec-    ^rom    ^e   f°^owing    facts,    most   of    which    have    already 
tion-  been  noticed.      The  power  of  the  intellect  to  perceive  any 

objects  of  sense  is  developed  by  degrees  in  the  mind  of  the  infant,  and, 


212  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §181 

after  it  is  folly  developed,  is  exercised  at  different  times  and  ly  different 
persons  with  a  greater  or  less  degree  of  energy.  Different  persons  also 
acquire,  by  special  discipline,  what  may  be  called  a  special  power  to  per- 
ceive certain  classes  of  objects  ;  which  special  power  is  exercised  with 
varying  energy  and  effect  on  different  occasions.  The  rapidity  and  per 
fection  with  which  this  power  is  or  can  be  exercised,  depends  on  the 
energy  of  attention  with  which  it  is  applied  to  its  objects.  Now,  atten- 
tion is  a  varying  condition  of  activity,*iand  is  possible  only  of  those  states 
which  deserve  to  be  called  the  active,  in  distinction  from  the  passive  con- 
ditions of  the  soul.  If  the  soul  can  attend  in  its  sense-perceptions,  it 
must  be  active  in  them. 

The  infant  begins  to  perceive  when  and  so  far  as  it  begins  to  attend.     So  far 
Attention      the 
condition  of  sue-     as  we  can  judge  from  observation,  or  can  remember  by  looking  back  over 


cess  and  prog-  Qur  Qwn  chjidhooo^  or  are  authorized  to  infer  from  analogy,  we  conclude  that 
the  soul  of  the  infant  is  at  first  in  a  condition  in  which  sensation  greatly  pre- 
dominates, with  only  the  feeblest  exercise  of  intelligent  perception.  The  infant  at  first  feels 
many  sensations,  but  it  can  scarcely  be  said  to  know  objects  at  all.  In  other  words,  it  only 
perceives,  with  the  lowest  activity  possible  of  a  power  undeveloped  by  exercise.  It  is  only  when 
its  attention  is  aroused  and  its  power  to  know  is  acquired  and  fixed,  that  it  is  properly  said  to 
perceive.  Its  attention  is  first  limited  to  the  objects  of  a  single  sense.  One  after  another, 
each  of  the  senses  is  awaked  to  action,  and,  as  each  is  aroused,  the  mind  seems  to  bestow  for 
the  time  the  whole  of  its  energy  upon  the  world  which  a  single  sense  unfolds  before  it.  It 
studies  light,  it  studies  colors,  it  studies  forms,  it  studies  sounds,  it  studies  touches.  Soon,  in 
connection  with  the  movements  of  its  body,  it  learns  to  apprehend  the  relations  of  space,  viz., 
position,  distance,  and  dimensions.  It  then  gathers  its  percepts  together,  locates  them  to< 
gether  or  apart,  attaching  them  to  their  appropriate  places  or  objects.  Then  it  uses  one  clasa 
of  percepts  in  place  of  another,  or  as  signs  of  distance,  size,  etc.,  in  all  the  varieties  of  acquired 
perception. 

As  the  mind  passes  through  each  of  these  stages  of  its  early  development,  it  concentrates 
its  energy  upon  definite  and  appropriate  objects.  Upon  the  infant's  eye,  as  physically  recep- 
tive of  light,  color,  and  form,  the  same  landscape  is  painted  as  that  which  is  mirrored  on  the 
eye  of  the  man  ;  but  how  much  more  does  the  man  perceive  than  the  child.  Sounds,  smells, 
and  tastes  solicit  in  vain  the  apprehension  of  the  one,  which  are  answered  by  the  quick  per- 
ception of  the  other.  Or,  if  they  are  distinguished  by  each,  to  the  mind  of  the  one  they 
indicate  far  more  than  to  that  of  the  other.  The  one  perceives  in  them  the  various  wealth 
of  signification  which  they  suggest  ;  to  the  other,  they  signify  nothing. 

Differences  in  §  184>  ^-s  rea^  an(^  as  great  a  difference  is  to  be  observed  in 
o^the^am^S  tne  perceptions  of  different  men  and  in  those  of  the  same 
of  different  men.  men  at  <jifferent  times.  We  suppose  that  the  power  to  per- 
ceive is  fully  developed  in  each,  and  notice  the  difference  which  is  made 
by  the  energy  and  direction  in  which  different  individuals  exert  the  power 
at  any  moment.  Two  persons  look  out  upon  a  landscape,  but  how  much 
more  does  the  one  behold  than  the  other.  One  sees  countless  objects 
which  the  other  entirely  overlooks  —  houses,  trees,  lawns,  lines  of  beauty, 
contrasted  and  varying  colors,  artistic  groupings,  none  of  which  are  ob- 
served by  the  other.  Numberless  sounds  await  the  notice  of  each.  One 


J  185.  ACTIVITY    OF   THE    SOUL   IX   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  215 

uears,  the  other  fails  to  hear  the  crowing  cock,  the  sharp  report  of  the 
rifle,  the  rattling  and  rumbling  of  distant  vehicles,  the  cawing  crow,  the 
singing  of  birds.  The  same  is  true  of  the  percepts  of  taste,  smell,  and 
touch,  though  in  a  manner  and  to  a  degree  less  striking.  (Cf.  "  Eyes  and 
No  Eyes,"  in  Evenings  at  Home.) 

A  striking  difference  is  discernible  by  every  individual  of  himself  in  the  perceptions  which 
he  forms  of  the  same  object  at  different  times.  In  a  certain  mood,  through  listlessness,  a  few 
objects  attract  a  feeble  notice,  or  secure  an  answering  regard.  At  another  time,  the  wakeful 
eye  and  mind  gather  in  from  the  same  field,  before  so  barren,  a  myriad  of  percepts  that  had 
remained  unnoticed.  They  throng  in  upon  the  excited  and  aroused  attention  with  surprising 
rapidity  and  profusion.  Even  when  the  mind  is  most  wakeful,  much  is  left  unperceived,  from 
want  of  time  or  interest.  We  might  spend  hours  in  gazing  into  a  single  tree,  and  not  exhaust 
its  wealth  of  material.  After  viewing  an  extensive  landscape  closely  for  hours,  when  we  turn 
from  it,  we  leave  behind  and  unseen  far  more  than  we  have  perceived  and  brought  away. 

Facts  like  these  prove  decisively  that  perception  is  more  than  the  passive  recipience  of 
'imprints  from  without  —  that  it  involves  an  active  cooperation  from  the  spirit  within.  They 
show  that  each  man's  perceptions  are  what  his  own  activity  makes  them  to  be  —  that  they  are  a 
product  of  the  excitements  furnished  by  material  nature  and  the  mind's  own  energy. 


Different  modes  §  185*  ^6  metn°ds  in  which  the  soul  exerts  its  energy  are 
inner?aSonVitof  vari°us*  The  soul  imparts  special  energy  to  single  organs, 
the  organs.  so  that  they  perform  their  functions  with  more  than  usual 
efficiency.  It  does  this  by  determining  a  flow  or  excitement  of  the  nerv- 
ous power  to  the  eye,  the  ear,  or  the  hand,  thereby  rendering  each  capable 
of  a  more  vivid  sensation.  This  process  and  this  effect  are  both  called  the 
innervation  of  the  organs.  It  is  accomplished,  in  all  probability,  by  the 
medium  of  the  reflex  or  efferent  nervous  organism.  Whatever  may  be  the 
physical  or  physiological  medium  by  which  the  effect  is  produced,  its  cause 
is  psychical  ;  the  soul  itself  is  the  originating  agent. 

This  innervation  of  a  single  organ  or  pair  of  organs  is  observed  in  cases  like  the  follow- 
ing :  The  eye  rests  listlessly  or  wanders  vaguely  over  a  landscape  or  a  crowd  of  men.  In  a 
moment  it  is  fixed  by  some  single  object,  perhaps  through  some  physical  stimulus,  as  a  bright 
light  or  glaring  color;  perhaps  by  something  attractive  only  to  the  feelings.  The  curiosity  is 
aroused,  and  stimulates  the  organ  to  do  its  utmost.  Under  the  innervation  of  the  agent  of 
vision,  the  picture  which  had  before  been  painted  dimly  on  the  retina,  is  suddenly  lighted  up 
as  though  a  new  force  of  sunlight  had  poured  upon  the  object  a  fresh  illumination.  In  a  simi- 
lar way,  the  soul  can  awaken  the  ear  to  more  distinct  hearing,  by  summoning  its  physical 
capacities  to  do  their  utmost.  '  Did  you  hear  that  shriek  ?  '  says  one  man  to  another.  The 
ears  of  both  are  made  attent  at  once,  and  are  physically  excited,  to  catch  even  the  feeblest 
sound,  as  well  as  mentally  to  interpret  its  meaning. 

That  the  soul  possesses  and  uses  this  power,  is  evident  still 

Partial    suspen-      /?••'*•  i         /» 

lion  of  certain    further  from  the  fact,  that,  in  order  to  increase  the  energy 


of  single  organs,  the  mind  is  often  forced  to  suspend  the 
action  of  the  others.  We  close  the  eyes,  that  we  may  hear  distinctly  3 
doubtful  call,  or  mark  the  faint  ticking  of  the  clock,  or  do  full  justice  to 
the  skill  and  power  with  which  a  superior  singer  manages  delicately 


214  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §187 

shaded  sounds.     We  find  it  difficult,  and  sometimes  impossible,  to  give 

full  effect  to  two  of  the  senses  at  the  same  time.     We  cannot  at  the  same 

instant  read  the  degrees  from  a  measuring  scale,  and  listen  to  a  musical  air. 

8  186.    The  mind  exercises  its  activity  in  its  sense-percep- 

The      attention     '  .  .  ,.      .       , 

fixes  upon  select-    tions,  by  directing  its  attention  to  a  limited  number  01  sense- 

ed  objects.  \J  &  . 

objects,  and  neglecting-  the  remainder. 

The  mind,  as  we  have  seen  (§  176  ),  in  one  act  of  apprehension  can  be 
occupied  with  only  a  few  objects,  whether  they  are  objects  of  sense,  or 
psychical  creations.  To  do  justice  to  those  objects,  so  as  to  bring  away 
distinct  and  vivid  images  of  their  being  and  relations,  requires  that  they 
be  exclusively  before  the  mind.  If  they  are  exclusively  present,  other 
objects  must  be  excluded,  shut  out,  and  neglected.  We  have  also  seen 
(§179),  that,  in  apprehending  objects  of  sense,  an  additional  reason  for 
this  exclusive  occupation  is  found  in  the  fact,  that  a  prolonged  occupation 
of  the  organ  with  its  object  is  required  in  order  that  the  physiological  con- 
ditions for  a  definite  impression  may  be  fulfilled.  The  fact  is  unques- 
tioned, that  the  mind  does  both  admit  and  shut  out  the  objects  of  sense 
by  its  active  efforts. 

If  we  notice  and  follow  our  own  processes  in  sense-perception,  we  shall  observe  that  we 
are  constantly  employing  our  energies  in  this  twofold  way.  When,  for  example,  we  listen  to 
a  full  orchestra,  we  may  single  out  the  fife,  and  follow  its  shrill  piping  with  a  distinct  and 
delighted  apprehension  of  the  melody,  in  spite  of  the  crashing  masses  of  sound  that  assail  the 
ear  from  trumpet,  trombone,  and  drum  ;  or  we  trace  with  rapt  and  absorbed  devotion  the 
silver  threading  of  the  leading  violin  along  its  sinuous  course  ;  or  we  combine  into  a  single 
and  almost  exclusive  impression  the  sounds  which  the  stringed  or  wind  instruments  make 
together  ;  or  we  give  the  ear  to  a  single  part  as  rendered  by  its  appropriate  agents,  soar- 
ing and  floating  with  the  air,  or  inspired  by  the  animating  tenor,  or  gravely  sympa- 
thizing with  the  bass,  leaving,  in  each  instance,  all  the  other  parts  unheard.  The  power  of 
the  mind  not  to  perceive  or  not  to  notice,  is  illustrated  by  examples  like  the  following  :  The 
miller  does  not  hear  the  sounds  from  his  own  mill,  while  the  visitor  can  hear  nothing  else. 
The  factory  operative  does  not  notice,  and  therefore  is  not  disturbed  by  the  whir  of  the  spin- 
dles and  the  clash  of  the  looms.  He  can  speak  and  hear  with  entire  freedom,  while  the  by- 
stander can  do  neither,  from  the  distracting  and  deafening  din. 


shown  *  activity  of  the  mind  in  sense-perception  is  still 

furtner  illustrated  in  the  great  variety  of  acts  and  processes 
objects.  which  we  are  distinctly  conscious  that  we  are  compelled  to 

perform,  in  order  to  create  percepts  and  images  which  we  can  carry  away 
and  retain.  These  acts  and  processes  are  acts  of  selective  analysis  and 
constructive  synthesis,  by  which  the  soul  chooses  for  itself  the  objects 
which  it  will  separate  and  remember  as  distinct  objects  or  things.  These 
objects,  when  formed  and  made  familiar,  can  be  recaUed  and  recognized 
by  the  memory,  and  recast  by  the  imagination.  They  people  the 
dream-world,  they  crowd  upon  the  phantasy,  they  illustrate  general  con- 
ceptions, etc.,  etc. 

When  we  are  confronted  with  an  object  wholly  strange  and  new,  we 


§  188.  ACTIVITY    OF   TH1,    SOUL   IN   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  215 

/ 

often  find  ourselves  making  distinct  efforts  in  studying  it  part  by  part,  and 
then  still  others,  that  we  may  unite  the  parts  together  into  definite  prod 
ucts.  Even  when  the  eye  is  introduced  to  a  new  landscape,  it  first  rung 
with  rapid  glance  along  the  horizon,  resting  here  and  there  upon  any  point 
or  feature  which  invites  a  prolonged  or  second  look  ;  then  it  sweeps  hither 
and  thither,  crossing  its  track  as  often  as  need  be,  searching  out  whatevei 
may  attract  its  gaze.  After  having  thus  constructed  the  outline  of  the 
picture,  it  leisurely  paints  in  the  details  one  by  one,  till  the  whole  is  fin- 
ished, and  it  can  carry  away  the  remembrance  of  it  as  a  single  object  ;  or 
perhaps  it  divides  it  into  separate  portions,  and  treasures  in  the  memory 
cabinet  pictures  of  selected  parts.  But  how  much  does  the  most  careful 
and  active  observer  overlook  !  How  little  does  he  notice  and  remember 
of  the  grace  and  beauty  which  is  spread  out  before  him  !  How  much  is 
hid  and  overlooked,  to  the  most  attentive  and  the  best-trained  eye  !  How 
much  is  reserved  for  after-efforts  ! 

The  recognition     A  recognition  of  the  activity  of  the  mind  in  perception  is  of  the  greatest 

of  this  activity 

important      for     importance  to  a  right  conception  of  the  nature  and  conditions  of  acts  ot 


memoI7  an^  imagination.  The  mind  can  re-create  by  the  representative 
and  memory.  power  only  what  it  has  first  created  by  the  power  of  perception.  The  mem- 
ory and  imagination  can  recall  and  reshape  no  more  of  the  objects  of  sense  than  the  percep- 
tive power  has  shaped  and  fixed  and  carried  away  for  the  service  of  both.  The  acquisition 
of  the  memory  and  the  reach  of  the  imagination  do  not  depend  so  much  upon  the  number  of 
objects  which  we  have  perceived,  as  upon  the  manner  in  which  we  have  perceived  them.  It  is 
not  merely  what  is  brought  to  the  notice  or  within  the  reach  of  the  senses,  but  what  the  mind 
actually  and  effectually  so  works  upon  as  to  place  it  at  the  service  of  the  power  to  recall  and 
re-create.  This  we  know  to  be  true  in  fact,  by  experience  and  observation.  There  are  times 
when  we  seem  to  perceive  the  greatest  number  of  objects,  and  with  the  most  excited  interest, 
and  yet  of  them  all  we  can  recall  but  a  few,  and  these  but  vaguely.  The  wealth  cf  material 
sometimes  wearies  and  distracts  the  power  to  appropriate  it. 

Why  this  should  be  so,  will  be  fully  explained  when  we  consider  the  conditions  and  laws 
of  the  representative  faculty.  A  general  statement  of  these  reasons  may  be  thus  expressed  : 
The  secondary  activity  of  the  mind  in  recalling  or  re-creating  must  depend  on  its  primary  or 
original  energy  in  perceiving  and  acquiring.  The  action  of  the  mind  in  remembering  and 
imagining  is  wholly  spiritual  and  subjective.  It  would  seem  that  its  conditions  and  laws  must 
be  found  in  that  element  of  sense-perception  which  also  is  spiritual  and  subjective. 

This  activity  in    S  188.   The  activity  of  the  mind  in  sense-perception  is  re- 

selection        and  .-,.,  •  •      .  i 

combination    quired  in  earlv  life  to  separate  the  mass  of  perceived  or  per- 

ehown    in  early          .      ,  ,  ,  ,  i 

life.  ceivable  material  into  the  distinct  objects  which  are  appre- 

hended and  named  by  men  of  average  intelligence. 

We  have  already  seen  that  the  work  of  thus  uniting  different  percepts 
into  distinguishable  wholes  is  performed  to  a  great  extent  before  the  time 
when  we  can  distinctly  remember.  To  the  infant's  eye  the  whole  world 
of  perceivable  matter,  so  far  as  it  is  perceived  at  all,  is  perceived  as  a 
single  whole,  or  one  undivided  object.  The  apartment  within  which  it 
tries  its  first  experiments  of  activity  is  literally  a  universe  ;  the  wTalls,  the 
ceiling,  the  table,  the  chairs,  all  blending  together  in  a  total  impression 


216  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §188 

This  whole  is  soon  divided  into  parts.  Those  objects  which  are  readily 
moved,  are  first  separated  and  viewed  apart  by  a  natural '  and  necessary 
process ;  those  which  are  fixed  and  stationary  are  afterward  divided  to  a 
limited  extent,  according  to  accident  or  individual  caprice,  but  more  com- 
monly by  certain  considerations  off  convenience,  that  are  universally  recog- 
nized. The  chair,  the  table,  etc.,  etc.,  are  easily  known  as  separate 
objects,  because  they  are  often  moved,  and  thus,  as  it  were,  broken  off 
from  the  rest  of  the  apartment.  At  a  later  period,  the  floor,  the  ceiling, 
the  walls,  and  other  immovable  objects  are  so  distinguished  as  to  be 
recognized  and  named  as  diverse  and  separate  objects. 

To  accomplish  and  perfect  this  work  of  construction  and  separation  during  infancy  and 
childhood,  there  is  required  the  repeated  application  of  the  attention  to  distinguish  the  parts, 
and  of  combination  in  order  to  unite  them  into  wholes.  In  these  efforts  the  mind  exerts  ita 
gpiritual  activity,  as  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  one  mind  performs  its  work  far  more  rapidly 
than  another,  thereby  showing  that  what  is  perceived  depends  on  the  quickness,  energy,  and 
sagacity  of  the  individual.  One  mind  does  this  with  greater  perfection  than  another.  Its 
discriminations  are  more  subtle,  its  combinations  more  exact,  and  its  interpretations  more 
eagacious,  even  upon  such  objects  as  apples,  oranges,  chairs,  tables,  horses,  and  dogs.  These 
differences  may  not  appear  in  the  application  of  the  common  names  of  common  things,  but 
ihe  perceptions  and  the  percepts  of  the  two,  as  mental  acts  and  products,  may  be  very 
"nequal. 

The  process  which  is  slowly  acquired  in  infancy  and  childhood,  and  with 
.-ne  same  activi-  unequal  perfection  and  dissimilar  results,  is  continued  in  mature  life.  The 
in  mind,  when  adult,  is  governed  by  the  same  laws,  and  follows  the  same 

methods  which  controlled  its  processes  in  infancy.  A  multitude  of  objects 
every  instant  solicits  its  attention.  It  perceives  those,  and  those  only,  to  which  it  yields  that 
attention.  It  enlarges  the  circle  of  its  perceptions  by  those  only  which  it  subjects  to  ita 
power.  Those  which  necessity,  convenience,  pleasure,  duty,  or  an  active  curiosity  excite  us  to 
regard,  receive  our  notice,  and  are  soon  familiarly  known  to  the  mind.  But  the  greater  por- 
tion of  that  part  of  the  visible  and  tangible  universe  which  is  within  the  range  of  our  organs, 
is  to  the  majority  of  men  almost  entirely  unperceived  ;  it  is  the  unexplored  background,  against 
which  the  few  familiar  objects  are  projected.  Out  of  this  material  more  observant  and 
curious  eyes  are  continually  shaping  new  creations.  But  what  each  perceives  is  what  each 
individual  so  creates  and  shapes  that  it  carries  it  away  as  a  permanent  image.  In  this  work  of 
ictive  construction,  the  intellect  is  busied,  from  the  first  essays  of  unremembering  infancy,  to 
v.he  most  mature  and  exact  observations  of  unforgetting  manhood.  It  begins  this  work  with 
letaining  and  repeating  the  perceptions  of  a  single  sense.  After  mastering  and  securing  the 
products  of  each  of  the  senses  in  their  turn,  it  proceeds  to  unite  them  into  completed  wholes, 
fixing  and  familiarizing  the  relations  of  form,  of  distance,  and  of  relative  position,  till  the 
mathematical  eye  and  the  mathematical  touch  are  severally  perfected,  and  trained  to  act  in 
unison.  In  this  way  the  perceptions  of  familiar  objects,  one  by  one,  are  formed  and  fixed. 
They  are,  at  the  same  time,  more  clearly  distinguished  from  the  perceiving  mind  itself  as  the 
non-ego.  The  more  compactly  they  are,  so  to  speak,  crystallized  into  separate  existences,  the 
more  sharply  are  they  contrasted  with  the  percipient  mind,  and  the  more  boldly  do  they 
project  into  that  relief  which  is  possible  by  the  relations  of  space.  These  processes  are  per- 
petually repeated  till  the  end  of  life,  greatly  facilitated  in  respect  to  ease  and  precision 
by  the  acquisitions  of  earlier  years,  but  never  ceasing  to  be  repeated  upon  the  unwroughl 
material,  which  the  percipient  mind  creates  while  it  perceives,  and  perceives  no  further  than  it 
creates. 


§190.  ACTIVITY    OP   THE    SOUL   IN   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  217 

§   189.    This  activity  of   mind  is  more  conspicuous  in  the 
Bpeciai  activities    diversity  of  the  sense-perceptions  which  are  reached  by  dif- 
ferent men  as  they  advance  in  life,  or  differ  in  their  employ- 
ments and  culture. 

A  single  general  example  may  illustrate  the  diversity  of  perception  in 
which  all  these  causes  exert  their  influence.  Let  two  men  together  inspect 
a  complicated  machine  or  engine ;  let  the  one  be  a  person  of  average 
knowledge  and  experience,  and  the  other  an  accomplished  engineer :  how 
much  more  will  the  one  perceive  in  the  engine  than  the  other.  Before 
the  practised  eye,  each  separate  part  takes  its  appropriate  place,  being 
sharply  distinguished  from  every  other,  the  dividing  surfaces  and  con- 
necting members  being  all  discerned  at  a  glance,  and  all  these  separate 
portions  being  bound  into  a  complete  and  symmetrical  whole.  To  the  eye 
of  the  uniristructed  person,  however  keen  may  be  his  physical  vision,  there 
is  neither  whole  nor  parts,  but  a  confused  and  bewildering  impression. 
The  difference  cannot.be  accounted  for  by  any  physical  defect  or  excel- 
lence in  the  organs  of  vision,  but  only  by  the  previous  mental  and  intel- 
lectual training.  But  these  do  not  enable  the  person  to  dispense  with  the 
use  of  the  organs  of  vision.  They  do  not  themselves  perceive.  They 
simply  direct  the  use  of  the  organs  in  such  a  way  that  distinct  perceptions 
are  gained  by  the  one  person,  while  of  these  perceptions  the  other  fails 
altogether. 

These  intellectual  conditions  are  the  result  of  the  mind's  own  energy,  and  the  fact  that 
they  are  needed  is  most  convincingly  demonstrated  by  a  multitude  of  similar  cases.  The  sharp 
but  uninstructed  eye  of  the  child  or  the  savage  looks  out  listlessly  upon  the  stars ;  the  reflect- 
ing eye  of  the  astronomer  groups  them  in  figures,  threads  them  upon  lines,  and  arrays  them  in 
mystical  curves.  The  mechanic  perceives  much  that  every  other  man  overlooks,  and  the 
objects  which  each  mechanic  perceives,  or,  as  we  say,  has  an  eye  for,  depend  on  the  particular 
trade  to  which  he  has  been  trained.  The  same  is  true  of  the  architect  and  of  the  painter.  It 
might,  perhaps,  be  thought  that  the  activity  which  is  exerted  in  all  these  cases  is  an  activity  of 
the  fancy,  of  the  memory,  and  of  thought,  and  that  it  is  improper  to  speak  of  it  as  an  activity 
of  sense-perception.  It  is  true  that  there  is  an  activity  of  fancy  and  memory  which  attends 
and  often  precedes  this  special  activity  of  sense.  But  if  the  memory  and  the  fancy  are  first 
aroused,  their  action  determines  and  decides  what  is  perceived  by  the  senses ;  it  directs  and 
holds  the  attention  to  their  appropriate  objects,  and  so  enables  the  mind  to  master  and  retain 
them  as  permanent  possessions. 

This  activity  di-    8  1 90.    It  follows  from  these  truths,  by  a  necessary  inference, 

rected  and  stim-      °  ,  . 

uiated  by  the  in-    that  the  mind  s  activity  in  perception,  and  its  mastery  over  a 

It-rest  felt  in  the  «  -,  -, 

object.  greater   or   smaller  number   01    objects,  must   depend  veiy 

argely  upon  the  interest  which  these  objects  excite.  In  other  words,  the 
teelings  and  the  character  affect  the  accuracy  and  the  reach,  and  of  course 
the  permanence  of  the  sense-perceptions.  The  eye  sees  and  the  ear  hears 
the  objects  which  the  soul  desires  and  delights  in.  It  is  not  easy  for  the 
mind  to  perceive  that  which  it  dislikes  to  contemplate.  On  the  other 


218  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  Id2 

hand,  the   objects   which   our  interests,  our  profession,  and   our   taste? 
prompt  us  to  attend  to,  we  discern  with  surprising  readiness. 

The  eye  that  is  sharpened  by  the  lust  of  gain,  detects  objects  and  qualities  to  which  thl 
less  interested  observer  is  totally  blind.  The  ear  that  is  quickened  by  expectation  or  terror,, 
can  catch  the  sound  of  deliverance  when  all  other  ears  are  deaf.  The  hand  that  palpitatei 
with  hope  or  fear,  can  apprehend  delicate  monitions  of  good  or  evil,  which  the  stranger  woulq 
not  notice.  The  living  soul,  as  intellect,  sensibility,  and  will,  is  present  in  the  acts  of  every 
sense,  and  largely  determines  the  report  which  each  shall  make  of  the  material  universe, 
What  a  man  is,  is  exemplified  in  what  he  perceives.  His  tastes,  his  sense  of  character,  his 
moral  resolves  and  aims  in  life — all  these  are  expressed  in  the  quality  and  the  quantity  of  the 
sense-perceptions  which  he  creates  and  stores  up  from  the  infinitude  of  wealth  which  is  spread 
out  before  him  in  the  material  universe. 

8  191.   The  activity  of  the  soul  in  sense-perception,  it  has 

This  activity  is  a      c  J         .  .  r 

limited  and  de-    already  been  observed,  is  a  limited  activity.     Ihe  process  ol 

pendent  activity.  .  ..  .,  ••/.  .      ,     1 

sense-perception,  m  its  widest  significance,  includes  passion 
and  receptivity  as  well  as  action  and  construction.  We  do  not  deny  the 
first  when  we  vindicate  the  last  of  these  correlated  elements.  The  soul 
cannot,  by  its  creative  energy,  make  that  to  be  a  mountain  which  is  a 
cloud.  It  cannot  make  that  to  be,  which  in  reality  has  no  existence.  It 
can,  however,  judge  a  mountain  to  be  a  cloud,  and  perceive  a  cloud  when 
it  might  and  ought  to  see  a  mountain  (§48).  The  energy  and  direction 
with  which  it  applies  the  power  of  knowing  goes  very  far  to  determine  what 
is  perceived,  how  vividly,  how  perfectly,  and  how  correctly.  Nature  must 
do  her  part  in  bringing  the  objects  within  the  reach  of  the  percipient, 
The  sentient  organism  must  be  in  a  normal  condition  to  secure  the  sensa- 
tions to  which  the  mind  has  become  familiar,  and  on  which  it  has  been 
accustomed  to  rely  in  its  acquired  judgments,  as  it  interprets  the  signs 
which  nature  presents.  But  when  these  conditions  and  indications  are 
provided,  the  mind,  by  its  own  activity,  determines  what  it  perceives, 
whether  it  perceives  vividly  or  faintly,  how  completely  it  masters  and 
retains  the  parts  of  the  object,  and  how  correctly  it  interprets  and  com- 
bines together  its  elements  and  indications. 

8  192.  The  activity  of  sense-perception,  though  it  is  an  activ- 

[s     elementary,      '  *  , 

and  easily  exer-  ity  of  knowledge,  is  yet  the  most  elementary  of  all  these 
activities,  and  the  one  which  is  most  easily  performed.  In 
one  aspect  it  is  the  lowest  in  the  scale  in  respect  to  its  dignity  and  dis- 
ciplinary value.  It  is  the  least  intellectual  of  all  the  intellectual  acts.  It 
is  performed  with  great  ease  and  with  surprising  perfection  by  the  infant. 
All  the  manifold  processes  of  combination  and  judgment  which  it  involves 
are  executed  with  the  greatest  rapidity,  at  the  very  earliest  age,  and  by 
persons  of  the  least  cultivation  in  the  higher  discriminations  of  the  intel- 
lect, and  apparently  of  the  very  lowest  capacity  for  such  cultivation  (cf. 
§  147).  The  habits  and  aptitudes  which  are  the  result  of  these  efforts  seem 
to  be  more  completely  controlled  by  association;  to  displace  and  almost  to 


§  193.  ACTIVITY    OF  THE    SOUL   IN   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  219 

defy  reflection  more  entirely  than  is  true  of  the  higher  activities  and 
applications  of  the  intellect.  That  some  activities  and  processes  of  the 
intellect  are  capable  of  being  more  readily  performed  than  others,  is 
an  original  fact  of  our  being.  It  can  only  be  accepted  as  a  psychological 
fact,  which,  to  our  knowledge  is  ultimate  and  inexplicable  (cf.  §  54).  But 
though  this  fact  cannot  be  resolved  by  any  higher  or  more  comprehensive 
psychical  or  physical  law,  it  is  readily  explained  by  the  still  higher  rela- 
tions of  adaptation  and  design  (cf.  §  612). 


SENSE-PERCEPTION:  SUMMARY  AND  REVIEW. 

§  193.  (1.)  The  processes  involved  in  sense-perception,  as  our  analysis  has  shown,  are  by 
no  weans  simple.  The  product,  when  complete  in  a  perceived  material  object,  is  in  its  con- 
stituent elements  and  relations  more  complex  than  is  usually  believed. 

We  will  briefly  review  and  recapitulate  the  several  steps  of  the  process  and  the  elements 
of  the  product. 

(2.)  Sense-perception  is  an  act  of  knowledge  by  means  of  sensations  and  the  sense-organs. 
As  the  term  indicates,  the  act  implies  two  elements,  which  are  distinguished  as  sensation  and 
perception  ;  more  exactly  as  sensation-proper  and  perception-proper.  These  are  distinguished 
in  thought,  but  not  separable  in  fact.  The  act  of  consciousness  by  which  we  know  the  process, 
separates  these  elements  by  an  analysis  of  thought,  but  connects  them  by  a  synthesis  of  time 
relations,  as  constituting  a  single  and  instantaneous  psychical  state.  They  are  distinguished 
in  the  relation  of  dependence,  but  are  united  as  instantaneous  in  time. 

(3.)  Sensation,  or  the  sensation-element,  is  known  still  further:  First,  physiologically,  as 
dependent  on  the  excitement  of  the  sensorium,  in  whole  or  in  part,  by  some  physical  excitant 
or  object.  The  sensorium  is  a  collective  term  for  the  nervous  organism  and  the  sense-organa 
conjoined.  This  organism,  animated  by  the  sentient  soul,  acts  as  the  agent  or  instrument  of 
the  several  sensations.  How  it  is  fitted  thus  to  act,  we  do  not  know.  What  there  is  in  its 
nature  which  renders  it  capable  of  responding,  as  it  does,  to  the  impressions  or  excitements 
which  it  suffers,  we  cannot  explain.  We  know  that  each  class  or  portion  of  the  sentient 
nerves  is  capable  of  a  special  sensation,  and  so  far  is  idiopathic.  In  order  to  produce  it,  the 
excitement  or  impression  must  usually  be  applied  to  the  nerve-endings,  in  the  sense-organs. 
A  class  of  exceptions  to  this  rule  is  found  in  the  effect  upon  the  nervous  filaments  of  electric 
and  chemical  action,  of  pressure,  of  certain  morbid  and  abnormal  bodily  conditions  occasion- 
ing what  are  called  the  subjective  sensations  of  light  and  sound,  and  perhaps  of  taste.  • 

(4.)  Second,  psychologically  considered,  sensation  is  a  more  or  less  positively  pleasant  or 
painful  experience  of  th«;  soul,  as  consciously  animating  and  acting  with  an  extended  sen- 
sorium. The  sensations  are  in  this  respect  sharply  distinguished  by  the  soul  itself  from  the 
desires  which  attend  them,  as  well  as  from  the  purely  spiritual  emotions.  When  the  soul  is 
said  to  be  conscious  of  its  sensations,  consciousness  cannot  be  used  in  the  technical  sense  of  a 
direct  cognizance  of  purely  spiritual  acts  or  states,  but  of  a  direct  or  intuitive  cognizance  of 
this  peculiar  experience.  It  follows  that  the  several  sensations,  inasmuch  as  they  are  expe 
rienced  by  the  soul  in  its  connection  with  the  extended  sensorium,  must  be  indefinitely  but 
really  separated  from  each  other  by  distance  and  place. 

(o.)  Perception,  as  an  act  of  the  mind,  is  subjective  and  objective  ;  as  subjective,  it  is  dis- 
tinguished by  several  steps  or  processes.  As  objective,  it  apprehends  some  being.  The  resul* 
is  a  product,  or  the  object  as  known. 

Subjectively  viewed,  sense-perception  is  distinguished  as  original  and  acquired,  or  simplt 
ind  007/ipleXt  and  as  direct  and  reflex.  In  original  or  simple  perception,  the  mind  knows  the 


220  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT  §  19o 

single  percepts  which  are  appropriate  to  single  organs  of  sense.  In  acquired  or  complex  per 
ception,  it  connects  these  with  one  another  under  a  variety  of  relations.  In  direct  perception^ 
the  relations  used  are  those  of  extension  and  diversity ;  in  indirect,  those  of  likeness,  causa 
tion,  and  design  are  also  employed.  c 

Objectively  viewed,  perception  always  knows  a  material  non-ego.  But  the  objects  of  sim- 
ple and  complex  perception  are  unlike. 

(6.)  In  simple  or  original  perception,  the  object  is  a  simple  percept — i.  e.,  an  extended  non 
f.go.  But  the  term  non-ego  is  equivocal,  being  capable  of  three  distinct  meanings,  correspond- 
ing to  the  three  distinguishable  egos  with  which  they  are  contrasted.  These  are  the  following  . 
(1.)  The  perceiving  agent  as  a  pure  spirit ;  (2.)  the  percipient  agent  as  a  spirit  animating  an 
extended  sensorium ;  (3.)  the  individual  as  spirit,  sensorium,  and  body.  The  three  non-ego* 
contrasted  with  these  are  :  (1.)  The  sensorium  in  excited  action,  distinguished  by  the  soul  from 
itself  as  a  pure  spirit ;  (2.)  the  body  perceived  as  other  than  the  sentient  soul — i.  e.,  the  soul 
as  animating  the  sensorium ;  and  (3.)  the  material  universe  as  distinguished  from  the  soul, 
sensorium,  and  body — i.  e.,  from  the  man  as  soul  and  body  united. 

(7.)  In  original  perception,  the  object  directly  apprehended  is  the  sensorium  as  excited  to 
Borne  definite  action.  This  is  distinguished  from  the  soul  as  percipient,  by  the  soul's  own  act 
of  discrimination.  In  other  words,  the  ego  and  non-ego  contrasted  are  the  first  named  above. 
This  non-ego  is  the  percept  appropriate  to  each  of  the  sense  organs. 

Some  contend  that  there  are  but  two  organs  and  two  forms  of  direct  perception — those 
of  touch  and  sight ;  the  senses  of  smell,  taste,  and  hearing,  giving  sensations  only. 

(8.)  Indirect  or  acquired  perception  first  combines  single  percepts  into  material  wholes  or 
Jlyects,  by  referring  them  to  the  same  portion  of  space.  The  first  experiment  is  made  with 
the  body  itself,  the  perception  of  which  the  soul  completes,  knowing  it  within  and  without. 
This  gives  the  non-ego  in  the  second  sense.  Other  percepts  it  proceeds  to  combine  and  con- 
struct into  other  bodies,  by  processes  of  comparison,  measurement,  and  induction,  after  the 
analogon  of  the  body  which  the  soul  inhabits.  These  are  distinguished  from  the  body  itself, 
giving  the  non-ego  in  the  third  sense,  the  distances,  forms,  sizes,  etc.,  being  assigned  by  the 
rarious  processes  of  judgment,  which  are  usually  called  acts  of  acquired  perception. 

(9.)  Later  still,  the  intellect  knows  the  percepts  thus  united  as  substance  and  attribute, 
when  it  connects  the  objects  with  the  sensations  which  they  excite  under  the  relation  of 
causality,  or  compares  one  object  with  another  under  the  relations  of  form  and  dimension.  To 
do  the  one,  the  material  object  must  be  compared  with  the  sentient  soul,  by  an  act  of  reflexive 
analysis,  both  being  projected  into  the  mind's  field  of  view.  To  do  the  other,  motion,  measure- 
ment, and  analysis  are  required  to  separate  length,  breadth,  size,  and  form,  from  the  things  to 
which  they  pertain.  Eecognition,  generalization,  and  other  acts  of  the  higher  intelligence 
greatly  stimulate  and  aid  this  activity,  but  are  not  essential  to  it.  Many,  not  to  say  all,  of 
these  acts  of  acquired  or  indirect  perception  are  acts  of  natural  and  unconscious  induction, 
wh'ch,  like  other  such  acts,  must  assume  in  the  objects  known  adaptation  to  the  mind  that 
knows  them  ;  in  other  words,  must  assume  design  and  order  in  the  universe. 

When  the  material  object  is  known  in  these  elements  and  relations  as  a.  product  familiar 
to  the  mind,  the  process  of  sense-perception  is  complete. 

(10.)  When,  moreover,  consciousness  is  so  matured  as  to  distinguish  the  soul's  spiritual 
acts  and  emotions  from  its  sensations  and  their  objects,  then  the  non-ego  is  distinguished  from 
the  ego  in  the  first  sense  required,  and  all  the  relations  of  matter  to  the  spirit,  which  are 
objects  of  common  observation,  are  attained  and  made  familiar  to  the  intellect. 

(11.)  In  the  process  of  sense  perception  the  state  of  the  intellect  is  active,  and  active 
only.  It  is  a  form  of  that  knowledge,  by  which  beings  and  relations  are  cognized  as  real. 
This  activity  is  intimately  allied  to  the  higher  processes  of  which  it  is  the  essential  condition, 
and  like  them  is  directed  by  the  emotions  and  the  will,  which  together  with  the  -'ntellect  make 
np  the  endowments  ^f  the  cor.scious  soul. 


194.  THEOEIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  221 


CHAPTER    IX. 


THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION". 

THE  summary  and  review  with  which  the  preceding  chapter  concludes,  presents  in  brief  thi 
theory  of  sense-perception  which  is  taught  in  this  volume.  It  seems  desirable,  in  con. 
nection  with  it,  to  give  a  brief  historical  survey  of  the  several  theories  which  have  beec 
held  by  otners.  Such  a  sketch  will  prepare  the  student  to  understand  the  difficulties  of 
the  subject,  as  well  as  to  appreciate  the  successive  advances  which  have  been  made  toward 
an  explanation  of  the  very  difficult  problem  which  these  theories  have  undertaken  to  solve. 
It  may  also  be  useful  in  preventing  the  reader  from  too  readily  accepting  the  materialistic 
and  physiological  solutions  which  are  urged  so  confidently  as  being  the  latest  and  th« 
most  satisfactory.  The  history  of  the  earlier  speculations  serves  to  show  that  these  sola 
tions  are  neither  so  recent  nor  so  rational  as  their  advocates  contend. 

§  194.  All  philosophers  have  undertaken  to  give  some  theory  or  explanation 
Those  theories  of  the  perceptions  of  sense.  These  perceptions  are  among  the  most  striking 
universal.  an(j  interesting  of  all  phenomena,  and  would  naturally  attract  the  attention  of 

all  inquisitive  minds.  They  vary  in  uniformity  with  the  changing  condition 
ot  the  bodily  organs,  and  of  the  objects  and  media  with  which  these  organs  are  concerned. 
For  this  reason,  men  of  philosophic  tastes  would  be  prompted  to  devise  some  theory  to  explain 
how  and  why  these  perceptions  so  often  change. 

It  is  not  strange  that  these  explanations  have  always  been  derived  from  the 
Determined  by  generally  received  opinions  or  philosophical  theories  concerning  the  forcea 
philosophy.  "  '  and  laws  of  nature,  and  the  powers  and  laws  of  the  human  soul.  As  the 

sciences  of  nature  and  of  the  soul  have  been  continually  changing,  one  theory 
of  sense-perception  has  given  place  to  another.  False  or  defective  theories  of  nature  and  th*, 
soul  have,  by  a  necessary  consequence,  involved  false  or  insufficient  explanations  of  the  pro- 
cesses of  sense-perception. 

On  the  other  hand,  erroneous  theories  of  sense-perception  have,  by  a  reflex 
Their  reflex  in-  influence,  affected  to  a  very  large  extent  the  philosophy  of  the  soul.  It  ia 
mischievous.  °  l  natural  that  it  should  be  so.  The  acts  and  instruments  of  sense-perception 

are  the  first  to  attract  attention,  and  to  challenge  and  receive  some  sort  of 
explanation.  The  explanation  given  to  these  processes  would  naturally  be  extended  to  th< 
other  and  higher  activities.  The  conditions  and  laws  of  sense-perception  would  feadily  b« 
taken  as  the  types  of  all  the  intellectual  processes.  Whatever  theory  were  adopted  in  respecl 
to  the  nature  of  sight  and  hearing,  would  be  extended  to  memory  and  the  imagination.  It  if 
not  surprising,  therefore,  that  these  theories  have  occupied  so  large  a  place  and  exerted  so 
powerful  an  influence  in  the  history  of  psychology  and  of  speculative  philosophy. 

Theories  of  sense-perception  are  especially  liable  to  be  erroneous,  from  the 
Why  especially  circumstance  that  they  involve  so  many  elements.  The  processes  are  them- 
r?;!eou8?  b  '  selves  most  complicated,  involving,  as  they  do,  corporeal  and  psychical 

agencies.  The  corporeal  element  is  in  part  material,  and  requires  a  correct 
knowledge  of  matter,  and  the  distinction  between  that  which  is  organized  and  living,  and  that 
which  is  inorganic  and  dead.  In  order  fully  to  understand  the  processes  of  sense-perception, 
we  must  know  their  conditions  or  media ;  this  involves  a  correct,  if  not  a  complete,  knowledge 
of  such  agents  as  light  and  sound.  A  grossly  erroneous  theory  of  either  might  vitiate  GUI 
theory  jf  the  psychological  processes  of  sight  and  hearing.  The  scientific  knowledge  of  these 


222  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  195, 

agents  and  their  laws  includes  assumptions  both  mathematical  and  metaphysical,  which  may  be. 
correct  and  complete,  or  erroneous  and  defective. 

The  instruments  of  sense-perception  arp  the  bodily  organs ;  and  to  understand  these  organs 
we  must  not  only  have  a  correct  theory  of  the  living  organism,  but  also  of  its  relations  to  the 
rational  soul.  The  psychical  element  in  perception  is  also  complex.  The  consideration  of 
perception  as  a  special  act  or  kind  of  knowledge,  requires  some  just  views  of  knowledge  in 
general.  A  serious  error  in  respect  to  this  fundamental  point  would,  by  a  logical  necessity, 
involve  mistake  or  defect  in  respect  to  every  form  of  knowledge.  The  element  of  feeling  is 
also  present  in  sense-perception  in  what  is  called  bodily  sensibility,  the  correct  theory  of  which 
involves  just  views  of  the  nature  of  feeling  in  general,  and  of  the  relation  of  feeling  to  knowl- 
edge. Any  theory  concerning  a  process  which  involves  so  many  elements  is  necessarily  exposed 
to  error.  That  which  we  should  expect  would  be  true,  we  find  made  real  in  fact.  In  the 
various  theories  of  sense-perception  which  are  so  prominent  in  the  history  of  philosophy,  the 
errors  and  defects  are  to  be  traced  to  some  false  assumption  or  oversight  in  physics,  physi- 
ology, or  metaphysics,  or  in  all  these  sciences  combined. 

Theories  of  sense-perception  are,  to  a  great  extent,  theories  of  vision.    Thia 

More       usually    is  not  surprising.     The  phenomena  of  vision  are  the  most  prominent  in  our 
theories  of  vis- 
ion, experience,  and  the  most  attractive  to  our  attention.     The  organs  of  vision 

are  more  complicated  than  those  of  any  other  sense,  and  at  the  same  time 
more  easily  separated  into  their  component  parts.  The  necessity  and  the  functions  of  some 
of  these  parts  are  obvious  to  the  most  casual  observer.  Every  question  which  can  be  asked  in 
respect  to  any  of  the  perceptions,  presents  itself  in  connection  with  the  phenomena  of  vision ; 
BO  that  a  correct  theory  of  vision  would  necessarily  be  a  correct  theory  of  sense-perception  in 
general.  As  might  be  expected,  the  theories  of  sense-perception  which  are  recorded  in  the 
history  of  philosophy,  are,  for  the  most  part,  theories  of  vision,  and  the  illustrations  and 
examples  of  the  power  of  sense-perception,  its  actings  and  its  laws,  are  almost  universally 
drawn  from  the  power  of  seeing  with  the  eye. 

§  195.    "We  begin  with  the  theories  of  the  earlier  Greek  philosophers.    In  these  there 
is  very  little  to  interest  or  instruct  ns,  except  as  they  serve  to  illustrate  the  causea 
•oh'l  eot>he  $e*  ^     °^  error>  an<^  *°  saow  us  the  beginnings  and  germs  of  almost  every  one  of  the  false 
theories  which  deform  and  mislead  modern  speculation.     These  are  all  alike,  in  not 
sharply  distinguishing  the  soul  from  the  body,  and  scarcely  from  inorganic  matter,  in 
respect  either  of  essence  or  functions.    The  first  effort  of  philosophy  was  to  resolve  all  agents  and  all  phe- 
nomena— beginning  with  those  most  obviously  material  and  mechanical;  and  terminating  with  the  most 
spiritual  and  free — into  some  single  element,  as  original  and  all-pervading.    "Whether  all  spirit  was  in 
effect  resolved  into  matter  (as  by  Democritus  and  the  Atomists),  or  all  matter  was  sublimated  into  spirit 
as  it  seemed  to  be  by  Diogenes  of  Apollonia),  the  elements  of  each  were  the  same  in  essence,  and  the 
differences  in  operation  and  phenomena  were  matters  of  combination  and  degree. 

One  of  the  best  examples  of  the  current  modes  of  explaining  the  phenomena  of  sense- 
perception  is  furnished  in  the  theory  of  Diogenes  of  Apollonia.    The  soul,  according  to 
Apollonia.  him,  is  a  more  highly  refined,  drier,  and  warmer  air  or  vapor,  differing  from  other 

agents  and  beings  in  this  only,  that  its  element  is  purer  than  theirs.  Sensation  and 
sense-perception  occur  when  outward  objects  set  in  motion  the  organs  of  sense,  and, 
through  them,  the  air  which,  as  the  soul,  pervades  every  part  of  the  body.  This  explanation,  in  princi- 
ple, does  not  differ  from  that  of  those  modern  psychologists  who  resolve  sense-perception  into  vibrations 
of  material  agents  without,  which  excite  finer  and  quicker  vibrations  in  the  nervous  organism,  the  charac* 
ter  of  the  sensation  being  conceived  to  depend  on  the  frequency  and  rapidity  of  these  vibrations.  (Cf. 
locke,  L.  George,  J.  D.  JUorell,  A.  Bain,  etc.) 

Heraclitus  accounts  for  sensuous  knowledge  by  making  the  inner  fire  of  the  soul  to 
unite  with,  or,  in  modern  language,  to  respond  to  the  outer  fire  of  the  universe.  This 
Heraclitus  and  explanation  is  but  a  consistent  application  of  the  general  assumption  that  fire  is  the 
original  element  in  all  forms  of  being.  Heraclitus  was  more  conspicuous  as  %  meta- 
physical philosopher  than  as  a  psychologist. 

Kmpedocles  of  Agrigentum  is  worthy  of  notice,  for  two  or  three  reasons.  He  was  the  first,  according 
to  Bitter,  who  introduced  the  distinction  between  sensuous  and  divine  knowledge— who  taught  that  the 
impressions  of  sense  must  be  corrected  by  the  notions  of  reason.  It  was  an  axiom  with  him  in  explaining 


§  196.  THEORIES   OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  223 

sensuous  knowledge,  that  like  can  only  be  known  by  its  like.  This  assumption  pervades  the  grtat  major 
ity  of  the  theories  of  perception  down  to  the  present  moment ;  and,  ae  we  have  seen,  it  is  with  the  great- 
est difficulty  that  the  mind  can  rid  itself  of  its  influence.  (Cf.  Hamilton,  Works  of  Reid,  p.  300,  note.t 
In  conformity  with  this  view,  he  seeks  to  show  that  sense-perception  can  only  be  explained  by  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  composition  of  the  body  perceived,  and  of  the  forces  which  act  upon  it.  The  objects  of  sense 
send  off  certain  effluxes,  dn-oppotai,  from  their  surface,  which  pass  into  the  human  body  through  pores 
[provided  in  the  several  organs].  The  blood  in  the  vicinity  of  the  heart  constitutes  the  human  intellect ; 
and  in  whatever  part  of  the  body  this  blood  is  properly  mixed  and  refined,  there  is  superior  skill  and  dex- 
terity, as  in  the  hand  of  the  mechanic,  and  in  the  tongue  of  the  orator. 

Vision  is  explained  by  Empedocles  (cf.  Aristotle,  De  Sensu),  in  his  poem  on  the  Nature  of  Things, 
by  the  doctrine  that  the  eye  is  composed  of  fire,  the  noblest  of  the  four  elements— if,  indeed,  Empedoclea 
did  not  hold  that  fire  was  the  master-element.  Fire  produces  vision  by  radiating  from  the  eye,  as  light  is 
emitted  from  a  lantern.  The  reason  that  this  fire  is  not  extinguished,  is  that  it  is  defended  by  the  watery 
coats  of  the  eye,  which  act  like  the  sides  or  walls  of  the  lantern. 

Democritus  was  the  first  conscious  and  avowed  materialist,  resolving,  as  he  did,  all  the 
different  kinds  of  being,  with  their  phenomena,  into  combinations  of  atoms,  differing  in 
Democritus.  size  and  shape.    He  taught  that  the  soul  differs  from  the  body,  by  being  composed  ol 

finer  particles,  constituting,  as  it  were,  a  finer  body  inclosed  by  the  grosser  and  the  cor- 
poreal. All  sense-perceptions  are  occasioned  by  contact.  In  modern  phrase,  all  the 
senses  are  resolved  into  the  sense  of  touch.  That  which  is  brought  in  contact  with  the  soul  is  not,  how- 
ever, the  material  object;  but  its  el8<a\ovt  or  image,  being  detached  from  its  surface,  reaches  the  soul  by 
passing  through  the  pores  of  the  organ  of  sense.  The  eiSwAoi'  and  the  atroppori  were  nearly  the  same, 
unless  the  in-oppoij  was  used  to  emphasize  the  material  element,  and  the  ei&oAov  that  which  is  subjective 
and  spiritual.  The  nature  and  signification  of  either  do  not  seem  to  have  been  held  with  greater  intelli- 
gence and  precision  in  earlier  times  than  the  corresponding  terms  [as  image,  representation,  species]  and 
conceptions  are  employed  and  understood  in  modern  philosophy.  At  one  time  they  were  used  in  a  sig- 
nification simply  and  grossly  material ;  at  another,  as  the  product  of  the  combined  activity  of  the  spirit- 
ual and  material.  (Cf.  Hitter,  vol.  i.  B.  vi.  c.  ii.,  note.) 

From  Democritus,  Epicurus  borrowed  the  notion  of  effluxes,  simulacra  rerum,  which  he  conceived  in 
the  grossest  form— viz.,  that  they  "are  like  pellicles  flying  off  from  objects ;  and  that  these  material  like- 
nesses, diffusing  themselves  everywhere"  in  the  air,  are  propagated  to  the  perceptive  organs.  In  the 
words  of  Lucretius  :  "  Quse,  quasi  membranse,  summo  de  corpore  rerum  dereplte  volilant  ultro  citroque.  per 
auras." 

It  does  not  follow,  however,  because  the  surface,  or  its  elSwAov,  must  always  be  touched  in  sense-per- 
ception, that  its  form  and  size,  or  the  form  and  size  of  its  particles  (in  modern  phrase,  space-attributes  or 
relations),  are  what  are  perceived.  "What  is  perceived  through  the  contact  of  an  elSo>\ov,  of  certain  par- 
ticles, are  not  these  atoms,  or  their  space-relations,  but  a  semblance  or  subjective  result  which  they  give ; 
e.  g.,  the  white  which  we  see  in  its  eiSwAov  is  simply  a  smooth  surface,  and  the  black  is  a  rough  surface. 
Yet  these  surfaces,  as  seen  by  us,  are  seen  as  white  and  black. 

§  196.    The  philosophers  of  the  Socratic  school  [Plato  and  Aristotle]  recognized  the 
doctrines  of  their  predecessors  to  some  extent,  either  to  expand  or  refute  them.    They 
The        Socratio     made  important  additions  to  the  philosophy  of  previous  times  in  respect  to  the  theory 
of  sense-perception,  as  well  as  to  the  doctrines  of  general  philosophy.    The  doctrines 
of  Aristotle  and  Plato,  and  even  the  terms  which  they  employed,  can  be  traced  among 
philosophers  of  every  age  since  their  time  ;  and  they  still  reappear  and  exert  their  influence  among  the 
most  recent  schools.    Aristotle  especially  gave  the  law  to  the  schoolmen,  from  whose  teachings  the  modern 
theories  have  retained  many  traditions.    Plato  is  still  appealed  to  and  quoted  by  his  admirers  for  his  elo- 
quent and  just  psychological  discriminations,  even  in  respect  to  the  theory  of  sense-perception. 

Plato  taught  veiy  distinctly  and  emphatically,  especially  in  his  Theatetus,  that  sensa- 
tion [proper]  is  an  effect  jointly  produced  by  the  force,  motion,  or  action  ($opa)  of 
Plato.  the  material  object  and  the  sentient  agent,  and  that  it  varies,  of  course,  with  this  joinf 

activity ;  that  the  sensations  of  no  two  sentient  beings  need  necessarily  be  the  same^ 
under  the  same  material  conditions  at  the  same  time ;  and  that  the  sensations  of  the 
same  being,  from  the  same  object  at  different  times,  need  not  be  the  same,  but  may  vary  very  greatly. 
Sense-knowledge,  aio-flrjo-ts,  is  therefore  untrustworthy,  illusive,  and,  it  may  be,  deceptive.  With  this  he 
contrasts  the  higher  kind  of  knowledge,  y  «rt<mjju.Tj,  viz.,  that  which  is  rational  and  intellectual — the 
knowledge  of  ideas,  or  of  objects  in  their  ideas.  This  knowledge,  in  its  subjective  character,  is  certain 
and  satisfactory  ;  in  its  objects  it  is  permanent  and  fixed.  These  views  were  not  matured  by  Plato  into 
a  detailed  scientific  theory,  nor  have  the  Platonists  ever  succeeded  in  thus  perfecting  them.  The  great 
deficiency  of  these  theories  has  been,  that  they  have  omitted  to  explain  how  this  changing  and  in  part 
subjective  material  [the  sensation  proper]  is  related  to  that  which  is  fixed  and  trustworthy  [the  perception 
proper].  They  have  therefore  served  rather  to  excite  inquiries,  than  to  meet  and  answer  them. 

In  the  Timaeus,  Plato  uses  the  similes,  if  he  does  not  adopt  the  theory  of  Empedocles,  and  explains 
the  process  of  vision  by  the  excitement  of  the  fiery  nature  of  the  eye  by  the  fiery  nature  of  visible  objects, 


224  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  196 

Whether  he  intended  this  as  a  gravely-held  physical  or  physico-physiological  doctrine,  or  as  a  mythical  01 
•ymbolical  assertion,  it  may  not  be  easy  to  dende. 

Aristotle  urges  against  this  doctrine  of  Plato  and  Empedocles,  that  vision  cannot  he 
produced  by  the  radiation  of  light  from  the  eye  ;  that,  if  it  were  true,  we  could  see  in 
Aristotle.  the  darkness,  without  the  aid  or  instrumentality  of  the  light.    Against  the  view  that  it 

is  caused  by  influences  or  emanations  that  stream  forth  from  visible  objects,  he  insists 
that  such  an  agency  would  require  an  appreciable  period  of  time  for  effective  action. 
Against  the  assumption  that  had  been  accepted  in  many  of  the  theories  that  were  propounded  before  hia 
time,  he  urges  that  there  are  but  four  elements,  while  there  are  five  senses ;  and  it  cannot  therefore  be 
true  that  each  sense-organ  consists  of  a  single  element.  He  does  not,  however,  wholly  reject  the  doctrine 
of  Empedocles,  that  like  can  only  be  perceived  by  its  like  ;  for  he  concedes  that  each  one  of  the  senses  is, 
in  its  elementary  constitution,  akin  to  the  element  which  it  perceives — water  being  the  chief  element  in 
vision,  the  air  in  hearing,  the  sun  or  fire  in  smell,  the  earth  in  touch  and  in  taste.  In  critically  examining 
the  theories  which  had  been  held  before  him,  and  setting  aside  much  in  them  that  was  untenable,  Aris- 
totle rendered  a  very  important  service  to  the  psychology  of  the  senses. 

We  find  in  Aristotle  also  the  beginnings  of  the  attempt  to  consider  apart  and  to  distinguish  the  intel- 
lectual act  of  perceiving  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  physical  conditions  or  media  by  which  objects  are 
actually  perceived. 

In  respect  to  vision,  he  made  a  great  advance  upon  his  predecessors,  in  teaching  that  visible  objects 
do  not  act  directly  upon  the  eye  of  the  percipient,  but  through  a  transparent  agent  or  medium.  When 
this  medium  is  in  action,  there  is  light;  when  it  is  inert  or  at  rest,  there  is  darkness.  When  mixed  with 
opaque  substances,  as  in  material  objects,  there  is  color.  In  the  eye,  this  medium  must  be  present  as  the 
condition  of  vision  ;  because  the  light,  being  the  active  condition  or  state  of  the  medium,  can  occur  in  no 
place  where  the  medium  is  not  present.  Vision  cannot  be  a  result  of  fire  within  united  to  fire  without, 
but  a  result  of  the  excited  medium  without,  which  is  propagated  to  the  medium  within.  This  medium, 
which  couditionates  the  light,  exists  more  commonly  in  the  form  of  water,  and  also  in  the  form  of  air. 
How  nearly  the  doctrine  of  Aristotle  approximates  to  the  modern  theory,  that  light  depends  on  the  undu- 
lations of  an  invisible  ether,  will  be  readily  recognized. 

Aristotle  taught,  also,  a  doctrine  of  the  refraction  of  light.  Of  this  refraction  the  transparent  medium 
spoken  of  is  susceptible  when  it  appears  as  water  and  air.  Refraction  weakens  the  light,  and  color 
results.  This  refraction  occurs  within  the  substance  of  the  eye  as  really  as  elsewhere ;  but  Aristotle 
ascribed  no  agency  to  this  refraction  in  the  production  of  the  images  of  external  objects.  There  is  no 
evidence  that  he  knew  of  the  image  upon  the  retina. 

Indeed,  in  respect  to  the  construction  of  the  eye,  he  made  little  advance  upon  his  predecessors,  and 
knew  little  or  nothing  of  the  discoveries  made  by  modern  anatomy  and  physiology.  The  only  observation 
which  he  records  is  scarcely  worth  noticing.  It  was,  that  the  eye  can  produce  light  within  itself—  i.e.,  be 
the  recipient  or  product  of  subjective  sensations  (De  Insomn.  c.  2,  3).  This  phenomenon  he  accounts  for 
by  asserting  that  the  eye  can  divide  itself  into  two  parts,  one  of  which  is  the  producer,  and  the  other  the 
recipient  of  the  light. 

The  other  senses  require  a  medium  as  truly  as  does  vision.  The  medium  is  in  every  case  Bet  in 
motion  or  brought  into  action  by  the  perceived  object,  and  is  thus  made  capable  of  acting  upon  the 
appropriate  sense.  It  would  seem,  at  first,  that  in  the  case  of  touch  no  medium  is  required,  but  the 
percipient  is  itself  the  body  or  flesh.  More  careful  observation  shows  that,  as  the  perception  [sensation] 
varies  with  the  chamging  condition  of  the  flesh,  the  flesh  must,  as  the  medium,  be  distinguishable  from  the 
percipient,  notwithstanding  that  they  coincide  in  occupying  the  same  space. 

In  respect  to  the  construction  and  offices  of  the  remaining  organs  of  sense,  Aristotle  taught  little 
that  is  worth  reciting.  The  ear  is  the  organ  of  sound,  because  it  encloses  air,  which  is  immovable  unless 
It  be  agitated  by  excitement  from  without.  The  organs  of  both  touch  and  taste  are  in  the  region  of  the 
heart ;  and  as  smell  is  nearly  allied  to  taste,  the  same  is  true  of  this  sense. 

All  perceivable  objects  are  extended,  but  their  essence,  as  perceivable,  does  not  consist  in  their  being 
extended,  but  in  a  certain  relation  or  proportion  which  they  bear  to  the  percipient  The  extended  object 
has  the  power  to  act  in  a  particular  way,  and  the  percipient,  in  like  manner,  the  capacity  to  be  acted 
upon  ;  the  joint  product  or  result  of  their  coaction  is  the  perception.  This  product  varies  indefinitely, 
ttccording  as  each  related  term  varies— i.e.,  as  is  the  relation  of  the  one  term  to  the  other.  But  the  direct 
»nd  proper  object  of  the  perception  is  not  the  extended  object  as  such,  but  the  sensation  which  results 
from  the  joint  action  spoken  of. 

Objects,  to  be  perceived,  must  have  a  proper  size,  neither  too  small  nor  too  great 

In  respect  to  the  intellectual  element  in  sense-perception,  the  element  which  we  havt 

called  the  discernment,  or  the  discrimination,  of  relations,  Aristotle  is  not  clear  and 

element  explicit.    Now,  he  asserts  that  in  perception,  neither  truth  nor  error  are  possible,  bul 

that  these  can  only  pertain  to  the  higher  powers  of  the  soul.    Again,  he  calls  the  power 

a  judgng  faculty.    The  phenomena  and  products  of  sense-perception,  he  shows  most 

clearly,  have  an  element  which  does  not  pertain  to  the  purely  and  properly  intellectual  powers ;  but  ho 

dofl«  not  explain  the  element  which  both  have  in  common.    In  this  he  gave  the  example  for  the  confusion 


§  197.  THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  225 

and  defect  of  clearness  which  have  prevailed  from  that  day  to  the  present  On  the  other  hand,  he  asserti 
most  clearly,  and  gives  great  prominence  to  the  fact,  that  the  objects  of  sense  are  individual,  while  thosa 
of  the  intelligence  proper  are  general  This  distinction  is  of  the  greatest  importance.  In  seeming,  how 
ever,  to  limit  the  functions  of  the  intellect  to  the  apprehension  of  general  objects  only,  he  apparently  left 
no  place  for  the  action  of  the  intelligence  in  perceiving  objects  of  sense. 

Aristotle  held  that  there  is  a  common  percipient  or  sensory,  by  which  the  several  sen- 
The  common  or  sations  are  measured,  judged,  and  united  together.  Each  separate  sense  apprehends  its 
sensory  percipi-  own  object,  as  the  eye  color,  and  the  ear  sound ;  and  each  apprehends  or  discerns  ita 
ent-  object  correctly.  That  which  is  common  to  all  objects  are  these  five  :  motion,  rest, 

number,  size,  and  form.  The  seat  of  this  common  sensory  or  common  percipient,  is 
the  heart.  This  power  combines  and  separates  the  percepts  appropriate  to  the  several  senses,  and  pre- 
pares them,  so  to  speak,  -for  the  phantasy  and  the  memory,  both  of  which  are  activities  of  the  common 
percipient.  The  rational  soul,  the  NoCs,  apprehends  the  general  and  the  permanent  As  contrasted  with 
this  Nous,  t.  e.,  the  higher  or  the  rational  being,  that  which  is  properly  the  active  energy,  all  the  lower  and 
antecedent  powers  are  collectively  called  the  passive  or  the  affective.  In  many  of  these  distinctions  Aris- 
totle fixed  the  divisions  and  definitions  not  only  for  the  schoolmen,  but  for  modern  psychology. 

The  doctrine  that  objects  are  not  themselves  perceived,  but  their  species  or  perceptible 
forms,  was  initiated  by  Aristotle  (De  An.,  B.  ii.  c.  12).    As  the  wax  receives  only  the 
Matter  and  form,     impres*ion  or  image  from  the  device  on  a  seal-ring,  and  not  its  matter,  it  making  no 
difference  whether  the  ring  is  gold  or  iron,  so  is  the  perception  by  each  of  the  senses. 
"What  is  received,  is  not  the  matter  of  the  object  perceived,  but  that  which  it  effects  in 
conjunction  with  or  in  relation  to  the  percipient.    This  is  its  form — TO  elSos,  species.    "What  was  intended 
by  this  form,  was  variously  interpreted  by  the  Greek  commentators,  Simplicius  and  Themistius  contend- 
ing that  the  percipient  is  the  bodily  organ,  which  received  a  corporeal  impression  ;  and  Alexander  Aphro- 
disiensis  and  John  Philiponus  that  it  was  a  mental  power,  which,  by  perceiving,  gained  a  mental  impres- 
sion or  form.    The  last  were  doubtless  in  the  right.    (Cf.  Hamilton's  very  valuable  Notes,  Works  of  Reid, 
pp.  827,  881 ;  Metaphysics,  Lee.  xxi.  vol.  ii.  pp.  36,  37,  38 ;  Am.  ed.,  pp.  292,  293.) 

The  distinction  between  matter  and  form  or  species,  was  transmitted,  through  the  successors  of  Aris- 
totle, to  the  schools  of  the  Middle  Ages,  and  became  an  hereditary  and  perpetual  text  for  controversies 
and  discussions,  not  only  in  respect  to  the  nature  and  validity  of  the  sense-perceptions,  but  of  the  objects 
and  processes  of  our  higher  knowledge.  These  controversies  have  not  yet  terminated,  nor  have  the  terma 
over  which  they  have  been  fought  been  laid  aside.  Matter  and  form  are  as  fresh  and  living  as  ever  in 
some  of  the  modern  schools. 

§  197.    The  most  of  the  schoolmen  retained  in  substance  the  distinctions  and  the  doc- 
trines of  Aristotle,  making  such  advances  upon  them  as  were  to  be  expected  from 
The  schoolmen.       active  disputants  and  well -trained  dialecticians,  who  employed  their  energies  almost 
exclusively  in  defining  more  precisely  what  they  supposed  their  great  master  intended, 
or  in  devising  new  inferences  from  the  materials  and  data  which  he  furnished.    They 
discovered  no  new  facts  hitherto  unobserved,  and  made  no  new  definitions  or  discriminations  either  on  the 
physiological  or  the  psychological  sides  of  sense-perception. 

The  schoolmen  were  not  exclusively  the  followers  of  Aristotle.  They  were  influenced  more  or  less  by 
the  doctrines  and  the  terminology  of  Plato. 

In  respect  to  the  medium  of  perception,  they  held,  in  general,  with  Aristotle,  that  such  a  medium  is 
required  for  every  act  of  perception,  both  when  the  object  is  in  immediate  contact  with  the  organ  of  sense, 
and  when  it  is  not,  but  seems  to  be  in  contact  with  it. 

In  respect  to  the  organ  of  sense-perception,  their  views  did  not  differ  materially  from  his.  They  had 
a  better  knowledge  of  the  parts  of  the  eye,  but  no  acquaintance  with  the  image  formed  upon  the  retina, 
aor  of  the  facts  or  laws  of  refraction  and  reflection.  Of  the  constitution  of  the  other  organs  they  knew 
still  less. 

The  doctrine  of  the  necessity  and  agency  of  species  in  sense-perception  was  prominent 

in  the  theory  of  the  schoolmen,  and  their  views  may  be  summed  up  in  the  following 

doctrine     propositions  :   Objects  are  not  and  cannot  be  directly  and  immediately  perceived,  but 

only  their  species.    The  reasons  given  were  the  following :  The  object  often  is  plainly 

not  in  contact  with  the  sentient  organ.    It  is  also  in  its  nature  unlike  the  sensitive  soul, 

and  therefore  cannot  affect  it.    Every  thing  known  must  be  in  the  knowing  agent ;  but  it  is  impossible 

that  this  should  be  true  of  the  object.    It  can  only  be  true  of  its  species.    Experience,  moreover,  prove* 

that  the  image  or  species  only  is  perceived.    "When  a  stick  is  thrust  into  the  water,  it  is  seen  to  be  fcent  or 

broken.    A  change  in  the  medium  changes  the  object  perceived.    Our  perceptions  of  the  same  object  vary 

at  different  times. 

But  the  species  is  not  a  material  entity  or  efflux.  At  least,  it  was  not  so  regarded  by  the  more  pro- 
found and  intelligent.  It  was  scarcely  possible,  however,  that  it  should  not  be  treated  as  a  material 
entity,  and  so  have  prepared  the  way  for  the  grosser  doctrines  of  the  intermediate  representative  image 
The  species  is  not  perceived,  but  only  the  object  through  or  by  means  of  the  species.  And  yet  the  spe- 
ates  so  far  forth  represents  the  object,  that  when  it  acts  upon  the  organs  of  sense,  it  moves  or  excites  the 
15 


226  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §199. 

percipient  to  discern,  by  its  means,  the  object  itself.  Some  of  the  schoolmen  taught  that  these  specie! 
had  some  spatial  relations  —  that  they  existed  in  every  part  of  space,  bridging  over,  by  a  continuous  series, 
the  interval  between,  or  binding  together  the  object  and  the  sentient. 

The  species  directly  produced  was  called  species  intentionalis,  or  intentional  species.  Of  these  there 
were  as  many  of  any  single  material  object  as  there  are  separate  sense-organs,  each  species  being  appro- 
priate to  and  dependent  upon  the  joint  action  of  the  organ  and  the  object.  They  were  called  inleniimal, 
because  by  means  of  them  the  mind  tends  or  reaches  directly  toward  or  to  its  object.  "  Appellatur  autem 
intentionalis  quia  per  ipsam  sensus  tendit  in  objeclum."  Fr.  Eustachii  Summa  Phil,  quadripartite.  "Ac  per 
medium  trajicientes  letenderint,  ex  quo  etiam  vulgo  intentionales  appellantur."  Gassendi,  De  Sensu,  p.  337, 
ed.  1C58.  "  Ut  proinde  intelligamus  turn  suo  fungi  munere  sensum,  cum  agit,  seu  intenditur  in  rem  objectcm 
tamque  cognoscit."  Gasscndi,  De  Sensu,  329.  As  the  intentional  species  were  present  to  the  first  or  direct 
perceptions,  a  second  species,  the  species  sensatee,  or  species  of  the  second  intention,  were  present  to  the 
common  sense,  the  fancy,  and  memory,  each  of  which  had  its  species,  and  all  of  which  prepared  the 
rational  intellect  to  construct  the  species  intelligibiles,  which  are  the  last  attainment  of  the  higher  intellect, 
and  are  slone  the  objects  of  our  higher  and  valid  knowledge.  A  differe  nee  was  made  between  the  specie* 
impressx  and  the  species  express*.  The  species  impresses  were  material  and  sensible,  so  called  because  they 
were  imjresFed  by  objects  upon  the  external  senses.  They  become  intelligible  by  the  elaboration  of  the 
active  intellect,  and  are  thus  prepared  to  be  received  by  the  passive  intellect.  They  are  called  expresses 
because  ihcj  are  expressed  from  the  impressed  species,  and  it  is  by  the  species  expressse  that  the  passive 
jntellect  krows  external  objects  (cf.  Malebranche,  Search  after  Truth,  B.  iii.  part  2,  chap.  2). 

A  few  among  the  schoolmen  rejected  the  doctrine  of  sensible  and  of  intelligible  specias.  Among  the 
most  conspicuous  was  William  of  Occam,  who  was  led,  by  the  boldness  with  which  he  urged  the  doctrines  of 
the  Nbniir.-ilists,  to  reject  also  the  doctrine  of  sensible  species.  His  doctrine  was  expressed  in  the  follow- 
ing thesis  :  "  In  sensu  exleriori,  sive  accipiatur  pro  organo,  sive  pro  polenlia,  non  imprimuntur  aliquse  species 
necessaria  prxvise  primse  sensationi."  (Cf.  Haureau,  De  la  Phil.  Scholasiique  ;  Rousselot,  Etudes  sur  la 
Philosoph  e  dans  le  moyen  age  ;  Summa  Philosophise  quadripartila  a  Fr.  Eustachio  d  Sand.  Paulo  ;  H. 
Ritter,  &  ichichte  der  christl.  Philosophic.) 

§  198.  From  the  schoolmen  to  the  moderns,  Gassendi  represents  the  transition  period 

He  dared  to  question  and  to  break  from  the  authority  of  Aristotle,  and  the  opinions 

15^-lGbd  ''     receiye<l  by  tradition  from  him.    On  many  points  in  psychology  he  follows  Epicurus, 

but  not  so  far  as  to  deny  the  spiritual  nature  or  the  essential  immortality  of  the  soul. 

In  respect  of  sense-perception,  he  taught  the  scholastic  theory,  except  that  he  rejected 

the  doctrr  e  of  species  in  all  its  forms,  *>fter  a  careful  discussion. 

§  199.  It  was  Descartes,  however,  who  made  a  permanent  inroad  upon  the  philosophy 
of  the  scholastics,  and  introduced  the  modern  science  of  psychology.  He  prepared  the 
^  '  way  for  tte  distinctions  and  discussions  in  respect  to  sense-perception  which  have 


played  so  important  a  part  in  modern  speculation.  The  doctrines  of  Descartes  which 
we  need  to  notice  are  the  following  : 

1.  B  wcartes  drew  a  sharply-defined  line  between  spirit  and  matter  in  respect  to  both  essence  and 
phenome  MI,  and  of  course  distinguished  clearly  between  the  soul  and  the  body. 

Pre-vioufl  to  his  time,  the  soul  was  regarded  as  the  crown  and  consummation  of  the  body.  Those 
who  held  to  the  spirituality  and  immortality  of  the  spiritual  being,  asserted  a  separate  and  separable  nature 
only  for  i  he  voOs,  or  the  higher  soul.  Many  had  taught  that  this  higher  nature  was  a  distinct  substance 
from  the  jo\rer  ;  that  the  rational  soul  was  a  distinct  being  from  the  vegetative,  sensitive,  and  fantastical, 
all  of  M-laich  were  supposed  to  be  so  far  functions  of  or  dependent  on  the  body,  as  to  perish  with  it. 

Dr  trjartjs,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the  first  to  teach  that  spirit,  in  all  its  modes  of  being,  is  distinct 
nrom  matter,,  and  is  proved  to  be  such  by  its  peculiar  and  distinctive  phenomena.  The  essence  of  matter 
is  exteu*ior  ;  the  essence  of  spirit  is  thought.  He  asserted  that  we  have  a  clearer  and  more  certaiu 
knowledge  cf  the  existence  of  spirit  than  of  that  of  matter.  Of  the  first,  we  are  directly  conscious.  "We 
cannol,  doubt  that  we  think,  for,  in  the  very  act  of  doubting,  we  think.  Concerning  matter,  it  is  possible 
to  suppose  that  there  is  no  reality  corresponding  to  our  ideas  (cf.  Meditationes,  etc.). 

1  his  doctrine  of  Descartes  opened  the  way  for  an  entire  separation  between  matter  and  spirit,  and,  in 
cons'/  juenc<,  for  doubt  or  uncertainty  in  respect  to  the  validity  or  trustworthiness  of  sense-perception. 
It  al'ows  us  to  rai«o  the  question,  or  rather  it  forces  us  to  ask,  How  can  we  be  certain  that  our  sense-per- 
ceptions devrve  to  be  trusted  at  all  ?  how  can  we  discriminate  between  those  which  are  trustworthy  and 
those  which  are  not  ? 

3.  All  the  affections  of  the  body,  being  phenomena  of  matter  (of  which  the  essence  is  extension),  can 
only  be  resolved  into  positions  and  motions  of  its  parts  in  space.  Hence  all  those  changes  in  the  organs 
of  sense  by  which  we  perceive  must  be  changes  in  the  relative  positions  of  their  parts.  Such  changes  are 
wrought  \ty  the  potion  of  the  external  object  on  the  organ,  and  are  taken  by  the  spirit  as  the  signs  or  indi- 
cations of  attributes  of  external  objects.  Whatever  these  attributes  are,  whether  sounds,  smells,  tastes, 
touches,,  far  sight*,  they  are  only  known  to  the  spirit  by  the  changes  which  they  effect  in  the  parts  of  the 
organ  of  sense-  They  are  kno  Table  and  are  known  by  the  motions  and  positions  which  are  conveyed 
fiom  these  orgi»as  to  the  brain, 


§199. 


THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  227 


3.  The  medium  by  which  they  are  conveyed  was  held  to  be  the  animal  spirits.    These  were  a  highly 
subtle  fluid,  invisible  to  the  eyes  and  imperceptible  by  any  of  the  senses,  which  were  supposed,  to  t* 
secreted  front  the  blood,  either  by  the  glands,  the  liver,  the  heart,  or  the  brain,  and  to  be  so  mobile  and 
expansible  as  readily  to  fill  all  the  vessels  and  passages  of  the  body.    By  the  animal  spirits  the  body  is 
nourished,  the  life  is  maintained,  motion  is  imparted,  and  sense-perception  is  performed.    They  serve  aa 
the  instrument  of  sensation,  by  producing  in  the  brain  [conveying]  changes  corresponding  to  those  occa- 
sioned ia  the  organs  of  sense  by  the  action  of  the  object  perceived.    When  these  changes  are  thus  con- 
veyed or  produced,  the  body  has  done  all  its  work  preparatory  to  the  sense-perceptions  of  the  soul.    This 
work  of  preparation  being  done,  the  soul  perceives. 

But  the  soul  does  not,  by  a  second  or  internal  sense-perception,  apprehend  the  last  of  these  series  of 
mechanical  changes  wrought  in  the  brain,  as  though  the  soul  were  endowed  with  another  interior  appa- 
ratus of  sense.  How  it  becomes  aware  of  these  changes  in  the  brain  is  not  explained  by  Descartes  ;  nor 
how,  when  these  changes  are  made  known  to  it,  they  serve  as  indications  or  signs  of  qualities  in  material 
objects.  Descartes  never  asserted,  as  did  some  of  his  disciples,  that  these  changes  served  as  representative 
ideas — that  in  vision,  the  image  on  the  retina,  or  its  results  on  the  brain,  served  as  a  copy  or  reflected  pic- 
ture, which  was  compared  with  the  object  itself.  On  the  other  hand,  he  held  to  the  doctrine  of  a  repre- 
sentative idea,  in  the  sense  that,  on  occasion  of  the  apprehension  of  these  changes,  the  mind  had  sense- 
perceptions  of  objects.  As  the  schoolmen  held  that  by  or  through  the  several  species,  the  soul  perceived 
objects,  so  he  held  that  through  or  on  occasion  of  these  mechanical  changes,  excited  and  propagated 
through  the  corporeal  machine,  the  soul  apprehended  the  objects  of  which  these  were  the  indications  or 
signs.  John  Baptist  Porta  first  discovered,  in  1583,  that  the  eyeball  is  a  camera  obscura,  but  he  thought 
the  lens  received  the  image.  Kepler  corrected  the  error,  in  1604,  by  showing  that  the  retina  formed  the 
Image.  Scheiner,  in  1652,  was  the  first  to  take  the  coat  from  the  back  part  of  the  eyeball  of  several  ani- 
mals, and  to  show  sharply-drawn  images  actually  depicted  on  the  retina.  Descartes  was  born  1596,  aud 
died  1650. 

It  ought  never  to  be  forgotten,  that  the  body  is  regarded  by  Descartes  simply  as  acting  like  a  machine 
in  all  its  functions,  even  those  of  sense  and  motion.  Indeed,  he  calls  it  a  perfectly  contrived  machine,  and 
insists  that  all  its  most  subtle  processes,  even  those  most  withdrawn  from  the  possibility  of  direct  inspec- 
tion, might  be  fully  explained  by  a  finer  arrangement  of  mechanical  powers.  In  entire  consistency  with 
ibis  view,  he  contends  that  animals  are  nothing  more  nor  better  than  machines,  and  are  incapable  of  any 
psychical  experiences  or  processes.  As  soon,  however,  as  the  rational  soul,  whose  essence  is  thought,  ie 
united  with  the  body  or  the  man-machine  (homo  machina),  it  uses  its  mechanical  adjustments  as  instru- 
ments of  sense  and  motion.  It  connects  one  sensation  with  another,  by  means  of  the  contemporaneous 
occurrence  of  the  bodily  motions  appropriate  to  each.  When  a  part  of  the  body  is  bruised  or  burne-d,  it 
learns  to  apply  the  requisite  motions,  beginning  in  the  brain,  and  reaching  in  a  series  to  the  parts  affected, 
which  ensure  its  withdrawment  from  the  offending  cause.  By  the  arrangement  and  extent  of  these  brain 
changes  do  we  judge  of  the  size,  distance,  position,  and  other  attributes  of  external  objects  of  which  they 
are  the  indications.  We  see  one  object  with  two  eyes,  just  as  we  touch  one  object  with  two  sticks  ;  tha 
apprehended  motions  in  the  brain, (serving  a  similar  office  to  the  double  muscular  sensations?  with  which 
we  hold  the  two  sticks),  make  the  two  sticks  feel  one  object.  But  it  is  not  explained  how  the  soul  is  capable 
of  knowing  the  last  movements  of  the  machine,  or  bow  it  reads  the  index  in  the  brain.  It  is  true, 
Descartes  supposed  the  seat  of  the  soul  to  be  a  small  gland  in  the  midst  of  a  small  cavity  at  the  centrn  of 
the  brain.  To  the  plexus  of  tubes  and  interstices  which  constitute  the  walls  of  this  cavity,  the  anim?.l 
spirits  bring  the  last  changes  which  correspond  to  each  sense-perception  of  material  objects,  and  by  the 
changes  effected  in  these  walls  they  carry  the  orders  of  the  soul.  "  Hanc  glandulam  esse  sedem  anima 
primarium  atque  organum  imaginationis  sensusque  communis."  Renati  Cartesii  Tract,  de  Horn.  But 
though  the  cavity  is  represented  es  "  a  presence-chamber  "—and  it  would  seem  as  though  the  soul,  from 
its  central  seat  of  observation,  must  gaze  upon  the  reports  or  images  that  are  pictured  so  rapidly  upon  its 
walls— yet  this  is  not  the  doctrine  of  Descartes.  True  to  his  principles  concerning  the  nature  of  spirit, 
be  asserts  that,  as  it  occupies  no  space,  and  its  modes  have  no  relation  whatever  to  the  modes  of  extended 
.natter,  the  connection  between  the  two  is  the  result  of  the  simple  appointment  of  the  Creator.  All  that 
we  know  is,  that  with  these  motions  of  the  bodily  machine  the  perceptions  and  movements  of  the  spirit  ar« 
connected. 

4.  All  sensations  are  purely  spiritual  affections,  being,  in  his  language,  "  modes  of  thinking,"  or  of 
thought,  which,  in  its  nature,  has  no  relation  whatever  to  extension.    The  sensation  of  pain  which  ire 
refi-r  to  the  foot,  is  simply  in  the  mind ;  the  sensation  of  color  which  we  refer  to  an  external  object,  is  IB 
'Jie  mind  only  ;  it  is  neither  in  the  eye  nor  in  the  picture  to  which  we  ascribe  it. 

That  we  refer  these  sensations  to  such  objects,  or  locate  them  in  any  part  of  the  body,  is  the  result 
of  the  habit  of  confused  thinking  which  we  contract  in  early  life,  and  of  the  prejudices  and  associations 
irhich  arise  at  that  period.  But  when  we  resolve  our  knowledge  into  clear  and  distinct  ideas,  we  find  these 
opinions  to  be  false,  and  that  our  sensations  properly  belong  to  the  mind  alone. 

5.  The  soul,  in  its  sensations,  is  purely  and  simply  passive ;  even  in  its  inclinations  and  desires,  which 
ire  functions  of  the  will,  it  is  passive. 

6.  The  diversity  in  the  qualities  of  the  sensations  is  owing  to  the  diverse  motions  of  the  body  which 


228  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  199 

occasion  them.  They  are  painful,  when  the  fibres  of  the  muscles  and  other  organs  are  irregularly  moved 
and  strained.  Pleasure  attends  their  easy  and  harmonious  action.  These  are  stated  as  general  facts, 
which  are  derived  as  inferences  from  assumed  principles.  Why  one  kind  of  motion  or  action  should  givo 
pain,  and  another  pleasure,  is  not  explained. 

7.  Besides  the  inherent  capacity  of  the  soul  to  know  its  own  affections,  and  its  superadded  power  ol 
becoming  apprised  of  the  affections  of  matter  through  the  motions  of  the  body,  Descartes  taught  thai 
the  soul  is  also  furnished  with  innate  knowledge  or  beliefs  :  such  as  the  belief  that  God  exists,  ard  is 
all-perfect;  that  every  quality  belongs  to  a  substance,  and  every  event  is  produced  by  a  cause.    Th« 
criterion  of  truth  and  falsehood  was  thus  assumed :  Clear  ideas  we  know  to  be  true :   Ideas  that  art 
confused,  are  false.    By  the  application  of  these  axioms  and  this  criterion,  several  problems  or  questions 
in  respect  to  sense-perception  were  readily  solved. 

8.  The  perception  of  extension  by  the  soul  is  not  explained  in  respect  to  its  subjective  process  or  its 
objective  elements.    It  seems  to  have  been  included  by  him  in  the  assertion  of  the  soul's  divinely-given 
power  to  know  matter,  that  it  should  know  its  relations  to  extension.    That  these  ideas  are  real,  is  shown 
by  this,  that  they  are  the  clearest  and  the  most  distinct  of  any. 

9.  Material  objects  are  known  as  external  to  the  soul  by  the  following  process :  The  soul  finds  itself 
•  affected  with  certain  sensations,  or  modes  of  thought.    They  are  known  not  to  be  caused  by  the  soul's 

own  agency.  Tinder  the  axiom  that  they  must  be  referred  to  a  cause,  the  mind  believes  in  the  existence 
of  material  objects  as  the  external  causes  of  its  own  sensations. 

It  would  seem,  however,  that  this  process  would  only  give  negative  knowledge  to  the  mind,  or  the  belief 
that  there  are  existences  which  are  not  spiritual.  "We  must  suppose  that  the  mind  already  knows  extended 
being  with  its  relations  to  space,  in  order  that  it  may  conclude  that  their  non-tgo  is  also  extended. 

10.  We  confide  in  the  indications  of  the  senses,  because  we  believe  that  God  is  too  good  a  being  to 
allow  us  to  be  deceived,  or  to  bring  objects  before  our  senses  in  such  a  way  as  to  make  deception  possible. 
That  God  is  good,  we  know  with  innate  certainty.     Hence  we  confide  in  the  truth  that  the  ideas  of  sense 
correspond  to  the  reality  of  things.    In  this  confidence  we  reject  the  suggestion  that  all  that  we  seem  to 
perceive  is  only  an  unreal  show.    "When  we  occasionally  fall  into  error,  it  is  because  we  do  not  heed  the 
monitions  and  correctives  which  the  Deity  has  provided. 

These  are  the  principal  doctrines  of  Descartes.     They  contain  the  germs  of  the  most  important 
truths  and  the  seeds  of  the  most  pernicious  errors  and  oversights  of  modern  psychology.    As  Descartea 
deserves  the  praise  of  having  given  being  and  form  to  this  science  in  its  modern  phases,  he  also  must  bear 
the  reproach  of  having  opened  the  way  for  the  mistakes  and  defects  which  have  retarded  its  rapid  growth 
and  hindered  its  healthy  development.      There  is  scarcely  a  theory  of  sense-perception  in  which  some 
erroneous  assumption  of  Descartes  may  not  be  traced,  and  which  has  not  wrought  some  influence  for  evil. 
Geulincx,  a  distinguished  disciple  of  the  school  of  Descartes,  applied  one  of  his  funda- 
mental doctrines  as  follows :   Inasmuch  as  the  essence  of  matter  is  extension,  and  the 
Geulinex,    1625-     essence  of  spirit  is  thought,  it  follows  that  one  of  these  agents  can  in  no  way  act  upon 
1399.  the  other,  neither  matter  in  imparting  sense-perceptions  to  spirit,  nor  spirit  in  giving 

motion  to  matter.  In  every  instance  in  which  either  sensation  or  motion  occur,  the 
Deity  must  intervene  by  direct  agency,  and  produce  the  effect.  Inasmuch,  however,  as,  in  the  order  of 
aotual  events,  sensation  and  motion  always  occur  in  connection  with  a  material  object,  or  a  precedent 
spiritual  impulse,  or,  in  other  words,  as,  in  fact,  every  perception  requires  some  form  of  extension,  and 
vics-wersd,  each  holds  to  the  other  the  relation  of  an  occasional  cause — i.  e.,  each  is  the  constant  occasion 
on  which  the  Deity  exerts  His  active  energy. 

Leibnitz,  at  a  period  somewhat  later,  reasoned  as  follows :  Matter  and  spirit  cannot  act  upon  each 
other,  it  is  true  ;  but  it  is  unworthy  of  God  to  suppose  that  He  interferes  on  every  occasion  in  which  a  mode 
of  one  coincides  with  a  mode  of  the  other.  Therefore  God  has  arranged  from  eternity  a  preestablished 
harmony,  according  to  which  the  one  never  occurs  without  the  other. 

Malelranclie  applied  these  assumptions  in  the  following  manner :  Matter  and  spirit  are 
in  no  way  related.    In  perception,  the  spirit  does  not  perceive  the  material  object,  but 
''    ideas  of  it.    These  ideas  are  not  the  substantial  forms  of  the  schoolmen,  nor  material 

oo— t       • 

effluxes  proceeding  from  matter.  In  sense  is  perpetual  error.  These  errors  can  only  be 
corrected  by  the  higher  power  of  intelligence.  This  higher  power  discerns  intelligible 
ideas  which  are  trm  and  trustworthy.  These  ideas  are  not  originated  by  the  spirit's  own  creative  act.  They 
are  not  produced  by  the  occasional  intervention  of  the  Deity.  But  they  must  be  seen  as  they  are  in  the 
mind  of,  or  in  relation  to  their  real  essence  in,  God  The  favorite  and  peculiar  doctrine  of  Malebranche 
was,  that  "  the  soul  sees  all  things  in  God." 

In  the  support  of  this  doctrine,  he  not  merely  used  the  cardinal  assumptions  of  Descartes,  but  devel 
oped  a  complet3  theory  of  sense-perception  with  far  greater  distinctness  and  detail  than  any  of  his  predeces- 
sors, and  did  mere  to  give  direction  and  form  to  the  modern  theories  than  even  Locke  himself.  These  modern 
theories  owe  vw  7  much  to  Malebranche,  for  making  one  or  two  of  the  most  important  distinctions,  as  well 
aa  for  conflnniz* '  one  or  two  very  serious  errors.  The  distinctions  which  he  introduced  are  the  following : 

1.  He  distiv  lushed,  in  sense-perception,  the  element  of  sensation  from  the  element  of  judgment.  Of 
she  four  dliTeren,  elements  (.Recterche  de  la  V&ritA,  Liv.  i  chap,  x  §  6  ;  chap.  viL  §  4 ;  chap.  xiv.  §  3),  which 


§200.  THEORIES    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTION.  22! 

he  says  occur  In  almost  every  sensation,  and  are  confounded  by  most  jersons,  but  which  it  is  most  hnpor 
rant  to  distinguish;  the  third  and.  fourth  are  the  following  :  the  sensation,  or  subjective  state  of  the  soul, 
as  of  warmth ;  and  the  judgment  which  the  soul  makes  that  this  warmth  is  in  the  hand  or  in  the  fire. 
"This  judgment  is  natural,  or  rather,  it  is  only  a  compound  or  complex  sensation" — "ou  plutot  ce  n'esl 
qii'une  sensation  composee."  This  natural  judgment  is  usually  followed  by  another  judgment  which  is  free, 
but  which  the  soul,  through  the  force  of  habit,  makes  with  the  utmost  rapidity.  In  support  of  the  asser- 
tion, that  into  every  sensation  there  enters  the  element  of  judgment,  he  urges  the  cases  of  judgment  in 
what  are  now  called  the  acquired  perceptions,  as  when  we  judge  of  the  distance  and  size  of  a  visible  object. 
But  it  was  a  great  point  to  have  gained,  to  distinguish  the  intellectual  and  sensational  element  at  all. 

2.  Malebranche  comes  very  near  to  a  proper  recognition  of  the  distinction  between  the  conditions  of 
sensation  [sense-perception]  and  the  act  itself;  and  among  these  conditions  themselves  he  makes  a  distinc- 
tion. The  first  two  of  the  four  elements  already  referred  to  are  the  action  of  the  object  (in  the  case  (A 
warmth)  on  the  fibres  of  the  hand  ;  the  second,  the  resulting  motion  in  the  hand,  and  through  the  body  in 
the  brain.  These  two  elements  of  the  complex  state  belong  to  the  body;  the  last  two,  to  the  soul. 

The  errors  of  Malebranche  are  the  following  :  1.  While  he  distinguishes  so  clearly  between  the  con- 
ditions of  the  sense-perceptions  and  the  sense-perceptions  themselves,  assigning  the  one  to  matter  and  the 
other  to  the  soul,  he  fails  entirely  m  asserting  for  the  soul  an  inherent  power  to  know  the  properties  and  re- 
lations of  matter ;  because  of  the  Cartesian  assumption  that  there  is  and  can  be  no  relation  between  the  two. 

2.  The  explanations  by  which  he  accounts  for  the  processes  of  natural  judgment,  according  to  which 
the  soul's  subjective  sensations  are  referred  to  the  parts  of  the  body,  and  to  objects  without  the  body,  are  all 
inadequate  and  unsatisfactory.    The  fact  only  is  asserted,  that  the  soul,  in  its  sensations,  also  judges ;  but 
by  what  methods  or  upon  what  criteria  or  grounds,  is  not  explained.      The  natural  judgments  [and 
acquired]  of  sense  are  treated  as  having  no  relation  to  the  judgments  of  pure  intelligence.    The  first  are 
treated  as  always  confused,  illusive,  and  untrustworthy.    The  last  only  are  regarded  as  true,  by  virtue  of 
the  relation  of  their  objects  to  God. 

3.  Malebranche  accepts  the  doctrine,  that  it  is  only  through  ideas  that  we  can  apprehend  material  ob- 
jects, and  thereby  denies  that  we  can  know  such  objects  as  they  are.    He  gives  various  reasons  to  show  that 
these  intermediate  ideas  are  necessary.    They  are  mostly  drawn  from  the  phenomena  of  vision.    While 
he  rejects  the  doctrine  of  species  and  effluxes,  and  every  form  of  material  representation,  he  as  earnestly 
supports  the  doctrine  of  immaterial  representatives,  andholds  that  these  are  changing,  uncertain,  deceitful, 
and  confused,  when  contrasted  with  the  pure  ideas  which  are  attained  in  God. 

It  deserves  here  to  be  noticed,  that  Malebranche  was  entirely  rigorous  in  the  application  of  the  Carte- 
sian theory  of  the  nature  of  matter  to  the  conception  of  what  is  really  knowable  of  material  things.  II 
matter  is  extension  only,  then  all  the  knowledge  of  matter  which  we  could  possibly  gain  by  sense-percep- 
tion would  be  of  certain  relations  of  extension.  Even  our  knowledge  of  the  sensible  qualities,  as  of  hot, 
cold,  yellow,  blue,  rough,  and  smooth,  would  be  the  knowledge  of  the  positions  and  changes  of  the  material 
particles  [i.  e.,  portions  of  extension]  on  which  they  depend.  Of  these  relations  of  extension  sense  gives  UH 
imperfect  and  inconsistent  knowledge  ;  as  when  we  look  at  a  cube,  each  side  is  equally  square  in  its  real 
form  and  relations,  but  they  are  not  so  in  their  rational  idea, 

4.  Malebranche  asserts,  that  in  sense-perception  the  soul  is  passive  in  all  its  elements.    It  is  true  he 
asserts  the  same  of  the  whole  intellective  nature,  making  the  activity  of  the  soul  to  belong  only  to  the 
emotional  powers  ;  but  the  error  was  none  the  less  serious  in  respect  to  his  theory  of  sense-knowledge. 

§  200.  Antony  Arnauld,  who  was  the  most  distinguished  opponent  of  Malebranche,  con- 
tributed greatly  to  the  correct  theory  of  sense-perception.  He  maintained  the  following 
positions  against  Malebranche  : 

1.  It  is  a  false  assumption  that  the  soul  cannot  perceive  except  by  means  of  repre- 
sentative ideas.  What  the  soul  perceives,  is  not  the  idea  as  distinguishable  from  and 
representative  of  the  material  object,  but  it  is  the  object  itself.  The  idea  is  nothing  else  than  the  percep- 
tion itself.  To  say  that  the  soul  has  an  idea,  is  the  same  as  to  say  that  the  soul  has  a  perception.  The 
only  difference  of  meaning  between  the  two  is,  that  perception  stands  especially  for  the  modification  of  th« 
mind  in  the  act  of  perceiving ;  while  idea  stands  for  the  object  perceived,  so  far  as  it  is  in  the  spirit  as  an 
object  of  thought.  "  Ainsi  la  perception  d'un  carri  marque  plus  directement  mon  dme  comme  appercevant  tin 
~arre\  et  Cidee  d'un  carre  marque  plus  directement  le  carre,  en  tant  qu'il  est  objectivement  dans  mon  esprit." 
Chap.  v.  §  6.  Des  vrais  etfausses  Idees.  The  words  do  not  designate  two  entities,  but  one  modification  of  the 
toul  which  includes  two  relations.  It  is  only  in  the  sense  tb:it  the  representative  ideas  differ  from  percep- 
tions, that  Arnauld  denies  their  existence.  In  the  other  sense  of  representative  modalities,  he  holds  that 
&11  our  perceptions  are  representative  ideas.  The  prevailing  error  arises  from  conceiving  of  these  spiritual 
modifications,  by  analogies  from  material  images,  as  representative  pictures  and  drawings.  The  idea  oi 
R  material  object  is  the  object  as  conceived  by  the  mind. 

2.  The  soul,  to  perceive  a  material  object,  does  not  need  to  come  into  contact  with  the  object  per- 
ceived. This,  the  great  argu-ment  for  an  intermediate  object,  Arnauld  confutes  at  length,  showing  that  il 
Involves  the  consequence  that  the  idea  must  have  relations  to  space  and  to  the  soul  itself,  which  comes  ip 
contact  with  it.  When  we  perceive  the  sun,  we  do  not  need  to  go  to  the  sun,  nor  to  its  idea. 

8.  The  soul  is  not  passive  in  perception,  but  active.    It  is  endowed  directly  by  the  Creator  with  th« 


230  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §201. 

power  to  perceive.  In  the  exercise  of  this  power  or  faculty  it  is  active.  It  acts  in  as  many  ways  as  it  if 
rendered  capable  of  doing  by  the  creative  endowment  of  God.  It  is  as  reasonali  Je  to  suppose  that  it  can 
perceive  material  objects  directly,  as  that  it  can  know  directly  its  own  states  or  modifications. 

1  "We  must,  in  the  last  analysis,  be  able  to  perceive  material  objects  directly.  Otherwise,  we  should 
not  know  that  the  representative  ideas  did  represent  them. 

In  all  these  positions  Arnauld  made  important  advances  toward  a  correct  theory  of  sense-percep 
tion,  and  prepared  the  way  for,  if  he  did  not  anticipate,  the  doctrines  of  Reid  and  Hamilton.  The  fifth 
chapter  of  his  great  work  on  True  and  False  Ideas  reminds  the  reader  of  the  acuteness  and  subtilty  of 
Hamilton,  more  than  any  passage  from  any  other  modern  writer.  It  far  surpasses  any  thing  in  Reid  foi 
condensation  of  language,  sharpness  of  division,  and  clearness  of  definition. 

§  201.    The  speculations  of  Locke  have  exerted  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  course 
of  modern  philosophy,  and  incidentally  upon  the  theories  of  sense-perception.    The 
lToT.  °'  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding  is  not  BO  much  a  psychological  as  it  is  a  meta- 

physical treatise.  It  does  not  so  much  analyze  the  powers  and  functions  of  the 
human  soul,  as  it  decomposes  and  traces  to  their  origin  the  ideas  or  conceptions 
which  make  up  the  stock  of  human  knowledge.  His  doctrine  of  sense-perception  is  not  formally  expound- 
ed as  such,  nor  is  it  distinctly  propounded  in  separate  propositions.  It  must  be  gathered  and  inferred 
from  his  discussions  of  the  ideas  of  sense,  of  the  primary  and  secondary  qualities  of  matter,  and  of  the 
nature  and  kinds  of  knowledge. 

Locke  was  familiar  with  both  Qassendi  and  Descartes,  and  perhaps  with  Malebranche,  and  had  in 
bis  mind  the  speculations  of  these  philosophers,  as  well  as  the  logic  current  in  his  time,  which  retained 
not  a  few  of  the  distinctions  and  phrases  of  the  schoolmen.  He  was  also,  as  a  physician,  familiar  with 
the  received  physiology  of  his  time;  and  as  a  physical  philosopher  he  sympathized  very  warmly  with 
what  was  called  the  New  Philosophy— i. «.,  with  the  doctrines  of  Boyle,  Newton,  and  the  founders  of 
the  Royal  Society. 

From  Gassendi  he  derived  some  of  his  materialistic  conceptions  and  modes  of  explaining  mental 
phenomena,  as  well  as  his  eclectic  tendency  to  bring  together  opposite  and  incongruous  principles— 
e.  g.,  materialistic  hypotheses,  and  theistic  and  even  Christian  doctrines.  But  through  the  spirit  of 
his  own  system,  he  fell  far  below  Gassendi  in  the  analysis  of  the  faculties.  Gassendi  recognizes  reason, 
or  the  light  of  nature,  as  the  source  of  intuitive  truths  and  of  our  higher  knowledge,  and  contrasts 
these  higher  powers  with  the  lower  faculties  of  sense  and  phantasy.  Locke  lumps  these  powers  and 
their  products  together,  under  the  general  title  of  reflection. 

From  Descartes  he  learned  to  assert,  if  possible  more  positively  than  he,  the  authority  of  conscious- 
ness, and  the  validity  of  the  ideas  which  it  furnishes  when  it  is  exalted  into  reflection.  But  he  seta 
himself  most  decidedly  to  deny  and  refute  his  doctrine  of  innate  ideas  ;  Locke's  first  book  being  a 
forma)  refutation  of  Descartes'  Meditations.  His  zeal  against  this  doctrine  led  him  so  far  that  he  failed 
to  provide  and  account  for  our  higher  knowledge  and  intuitions,  so  that  he  in  this  respect  even  fell  far 
bolow  Gassendi.  He  rejected  the  sharp  distinction  made  by  Descartes  between  spirit  and  matter,  going 
BO  far  as  almost  to  defend  the  proposition  that  matter  can  think.  He,  of  course,  set  aside  the  assump- 
tion that  the  essence  of  matter  is  extension,  and  the  essence  of  spirit  is  thought. 

On  the  other  hand,  with  the  Cartesians,  he  rejected  the  doctrine  of  substantial  formg,  and  in  entire 
harmony  with  the  physicists  of  his  time,  assumed  that  ;ill  material  phenomena,  even  those  which  are 
exhibited  by  living  beings,  including  those  which  serve  the  spiritual  soul,  are  to  be  accounted  for  by 
mechanical  laws.  Hence,  from  Descartes  he  accepted,  without  hesitation,  the  doctrine  of  the  primary 
and  secondary  qualities  of  matter. 

His  aversion  to  scholastic  terminology  and  over-refined  distinctions,  and  his  desire  to  make  himself 
intelligible  to  men  unused  to  the  technics  of  philosophy,  induced  him  to  overlook  many  of  the  sharp 
distinctions  which  Descartes,  Malebranche,  and  Arnauld  had  made.  Their  effect  was  also  to  introduce 
confusion  of  thought  and  inconsistency  of  statement  into  a  treatise  which  both  aimed  and  claimed  to  be 
evel  to  the  common  understanding.  The  importance  of  the  weighty  truths  which  Locke  embodied  in 
this  apparently  most  intelligible  treatise,  and  the  high  esteem  ia  which  Locke  has  been  held  by  the 
English  people,  have  perpetuated  in  Great  Britain  a  similar  method  of  treating  philosophical  subjects, 
as  well  as  a  loose  and  confused,  yet  unscholastic  style  of  writing  upon  them. 

To  understand  and  critically  to  appreciate  Locke,  the  following  works  may  be  recommended  : 
Leibnitz,  G.  W.,  Nouveaux  Essais;  Descartes,  R.,  Meditationes  :  Prindpia ;  Malebr;mche,  N.,  Re- 
cherche dela  Verite;  Lee,  H.,  Anti- Skepticism,  Lond  ,  1702;  Buithogge.  R.,  Essay  Upon  Reason,  #c., 
Loud.,  1694  ;  Solid  Philosophy  Asserted,  by  J.  S.  [Sargent],  Lond.,  1697  ;  Browne,  P.,  Procedure,  Extent^ 
and  Limits  of  Human  Understanding,  Lond.,  1729,  2d  ed.  ;  Things  Divine  and  Supernatural  conceived  by 
Analogy.  Lor.d.,  1733  ;  Herbert,  E.,  of  Cherbury,  De  Veritate,  Lond.,  1645,  3d  ed. ;  More,  H.,  Opera  Phi- 
losophica,  Lond.,  1679  ;  Cumberland,  E.,  De  Legibus  Naturcr,,  Lond.,  1672  ;  Cudworth,  R.,  True  Intellectua, 
System  of  the  Universe,  Lond.,  1678  ;  Hobbes,  T.,  Works,  ed.  Molesworth,  Lond.,  1839-45;  Smith,  John, 
Select  Discourses  ;  Cousin,  V.,  Cows  de  FHistoire  de  la  Philosophic,  Logons  16-25,  Paris,  1828-9,  8vo,  trans, 
by  C.  S.  Henry,  Hartford,  1834;  King,  W.,  Life  of  Locke,  Lond.,  1830;  Tagart,  E.,  Locke's  Writings  and 
Philosophy.  Lond.,  1855;  Webb,  T.  E.,  Intelleclualism  of  Locke,  Dublin,  1857. 


§  201.  THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  231 

To  the  theory  of  Seme-Perception  Locke  made  not  a  single  contribution  of  what  had  not  been  knowj 
oeforo,  while,  by  his  method  of  treating  the  subject,  he  opened  the  way  for  very  serious  misunderstand- 
ings and  fundamental  errors.  This  circumstance  ought  not  to  diminish  our  respect  for  Locke  as  a  man, 
nor  our  estimate  of  the  excellence  and  importance  of  his  Essay. 

In  respect  to  sense-perception,  Locke's  opinions  may  be  divided  as  follows  : 

1.  Of  the  medium  or  physical  conditions  of  sense-perception  he  teaches  little  that  is  positive,  and 
nothing  that  was  ne-v.    He  refers  to  the  organs  of  sense,  and  also  to  the  nerves  and  the  animal  spirits, 
a«  receptive  of  impulses  and  susceptible  of  motion,  and  leaves  his  readers  to  infer  that  it  is  probably  by 
mechanical  changes  in  their  material  particles  that  the  conditions  of  sensation  are  furnished.    He  doea 
not  explain,  however,  in  detail, what  these  conditions  are,  so  far  as  the  organs  of  sense  are  concerned. 

2.  Of  the  faculty,  he  says  only  that  it  is  a  distinct  source  of  knowledge,  and  that  from  this  we  derive 
all  that  we  know  of  material  qualities— i.  e.,  of  the  separable  elements  given  by  each  of  the  senses.    The 
name  of  this  faculty  is  usually  sensation  or  external  sense.    Its  operation  or  function  he  usually  calla 
perception.     He  calls  it  perception,  B.  ii.  c.  ix.  §  1.     He  calls  it  sensation,  6.  ii.  c.  xix.  §  1.     Rather, 
the  idea  is  here  called  sensation.    All  more  precise  knowledge  of  the  faculty  and  its  workings  we  aro 
forced  to  infer  or  gather  from  his  view  of  the  objects  with  which  it  has  to  do,  and  Ivs  discussion  of  the 
act  of  knowledge  in  general.    It  is,  however,  a  serious  defect  in  his  treatment  of  the  faculty,  that  he 
uniformly  regards  it  as  passive,  always  representing  it  as  the  "  receiver  of  ideas, '  never  as  the  active 
agent,  which  is  competent  by  its  own  energies  to  know  objects.    The  process  and  the  nature  of  percep- 
tion is  rather  explained  by  the  objects  which  are  impressed  upon  it,  than  by  the  power  of  the  soul  to 
perceive  that  they  exist. 

3.  The  objects  apprehended  by  the  faculty  of  sense  are  the  qualities  of  matter.    Of  these  there  are 
two  classes:  the  primary  and  the  secondary.    The  primary  are  solidity,  extension,  figure,  motion,  rest, 
and  number.    The  secondary  are  the  so-called,,  sensible  qualities,  as  color,  taste,  smell,  etc.    These  are 
the  capacities  in  material  objects  to  produce  certain  impressions  or  affections  of  the  soul  by  variations  of 
size,  figure,  position,  and  motions  of  the  primary  qualities.    In  the  language  of  the  more  recent  schools, 
material  objects  are  known  by  director  intuitive  perception  as  occupying  and  related  to  space,  so  far 
are  they  known  in  their  real  nature.    In  the  same  way  they  are  known  to  be  diverse  from  the  mind 
which  perceives  them.    In  their  sensible  or  secondary  qualities,  they  are  known  as  the  producers  [by 
means  of  their  essential  qualities]  <>f  subjective  affections  of  the  mind. 

These  two  classes  of  qualities  make  up  all  that  we  know  of  material  objects,  when  we  add  to  them  the 
"  obscure  idea  "  of  substance,  as  that  in  which  they  inhere. 

4.  "What  knowledge  is,  or  what  it  is  for  the  mind  to  know,  Locke  teaches  by  the  following  definitions  : 
"The  mind  knows  not.  things  immediately,  but  only  by  the  intervention  of  the  ideas  it  has  of  them 

Our  knowledge,  therefore,  is  real  only  so  far  as  there  is  a  conformity  between  our  ideas  and  the  reality 
of  things"  (B.  iv.  o.  iv.  §  3)  This  language  seems  at  first  to  assert  as  plainly  as  possible  the  view,  that  it 
is  only  by  means  of  intervening  ideas  that  the  mind  acquires  its  original  knowledge,  or  perceives  mate- 
rial objects  and  qualities.  In  support  of  this  construction  of  his  words,  Locke  speaks  of  ideas  as  being 
conveyed  to  "the  presence-chamber  of  the  mind,"  as  being  painted  in  fading  colors,  as  being  con- 
sumed to  ashes  by  the  fires  and  heat  of  passion  and  desire.  Locke,  moreover,  asserts  (B.  ii.  c.  viii.  §  11, 12) 
that  the  way  "  in  which  bodies  produce  ideas  in  us,"  is  manifestly  "by  impulse,  the  only  way  we  can 
conceive  bodies  to  operate  in."  Moreover,  "if  external  objects  be  not  present  to  our  minds  when  they 
produce  ideas  in  it,  ...  'tis  evident  that  some  motion  must  be  then  continued  by  our  nerves  or  ani- 
mal spirits  ...  to  the  brain  or  the  seat  of  sensation  ;  and  since  extension,  figure,  and  motion  may 
be  perceived  at  a  distance  by  the  sight,"  "'tis  evident  some  singly  imperceptible  bodies  must  come  from 
them  to  the  eyes,  and  thereby  convey  to  the  brain  some  motion  which  produces  these  ideas."  In  respect 
to  the  secondary  qualities,  we  may  conceive  that  they  also  are  produced  by  the  motion  of  insensible, »'.  e., 
indiscernible  particles.  For  example,  let  us  suppose  "that  the  different  motions  and  figure,  bulk  and 
number  of  such  particles"  "produce  in  us  the  sensations  of  the  color  and  smell  of  a  violet  "—viz.,  of  the 
bl'ue  color  and  sweet  odor  of  this  flower. 

Locke,  moreover,  says  of  the  relation  of  the^e  "  ideas"  to  their  correspondent  qualities  or  objects  . 
"The  ideas  of  primary  qualities  of  bodies  are  resemblances  of  them,  and  their  patterns  do  really  exist 
In  the  bodies  themselves  ;  but  the  ideas  produced  in  us  by  their  secondary  qualities  have  no  resemblanca 
of  them  at  all."  He  expressly  defines  knowledge  of  every  kind  to  be  the  discernment  of  an  agreement 
or  disagreement  between  two  entities:  in  the  case  of  sense-knowledge  between  the  representative  idea 
and  its  counterpart. 

The  language  of  Locke  in  these  passages,  if  strictly  construed,  would  seem  U  -  *ilare  that  it  is  by  tht» 
jnterve?-tion  of  representative  ideas  that  we  perceive  sensible  objects,  and  that  we  can  only  know  them  so 
far  as  we  discern  that  they  "resemble"  or  "  agree  with"  their  object.  Hence  it  has  been  charged  upon 
him  that  h«s  taught  the  doctrine  of  perception  by  means  of  intervening  images  or  ideas.  It  becomes  a 
question  of  great  interest,  therefore,  what  he  actually  did  intend  by  this  careless  and  confused  language. 
It  is  obvious  that  any  such  theory  of  knowledge,  when  applied  to  sense-perception,  would  break  down 
by  its  own  weight.  It  must  involve  a  positive  self-contradiction,  or  else  an  idle  and  useless  expedient. 
If  wt  can  only  know  a  material  object  by  means  of  the  intervening  idea,  which  "  vepresepta"  or  agrew 


232  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §202. 

with  It,  then  we  can  never  leach  or  know  the  object  at  all  ;  for  we  may  go  on  by  a  succession  of  pro- 
cesses ad  infinitum,  and,  when  we  have  done,  we  shall  only  have  reached  a  representative  idea,  but  shall 
never  have  grasped  the  object  itself.  On  the  other  hand,  if  it  be  conceded  that  we  can  and  do  peroeivo 
material  objects,  and,  in  perceiving  them,  discern  that  the  idea  is  "  conformed  to,"  "  agrees  with,"  or 
"  represents"  its  object,  then  we  must  be  able  to  compare  the  two  together — the  material  object  and  its 
idea.  But  in  order  to  be  able  to  compare  the  object  with  its  idea,  we  must  know  each  term  which  we 
compare — i.  e.,  we  must  first  have  known  the  object  itself.  But  if  we  know  it  already,  of  what  use  is  it, 
or  how  is  it  possible,  to  acquire  knowledge  of  it  by  the  idea?  It  also  renders  it  impossible  to  know  the 
secondary  qualities  by  any  means  whatever,  for  Locke  expressly  asserts  that  no  similarity  exists  between 
the  ideas  of  secondary  qualities  and  the  qualities  themselves— as  of  the  smell,  etc.,  of  the  violet,  a:.d  the 
qualities  in  objects  which  produce  them. 

These  consequences,  so  fatal  to  the  representative  theory,  supposing  Locke  to  have  held  it,  would  lead 
us  to  question  whether  he  intended  by  "  idea,"  in  every  or  in  any  case,  an  intervening  representative  image ; 
and  by  the  words,  "to  resemble,"  "to  be  conformed  to,"  "to  agree  with,"  any  relation  discerned  by  a  pro- 
cess of  comparison.  A  careful  examination  of  the  most  of  the  passages  of  the  Essay  authorizes  the  conclu- 
sion that,  however  careless  he  may  have  been  in  his  language,  he  never  intended  to  use  idea  as  the  condition 
of  sense-perception,  so  far  as  by  this  we  acquire  knowledge  of  matter,  but  only  as  the  me.,tal  modification, 
which  we  use  in  mediate  knowledge,  as  in  memory,  imagination,  and  generalization.  We  have  seen 
(§170),  that  Reid  falls  into  the  very  same  inconsistency  of  language,  and  exposes  himself,  by  so  doing,  to 
the  charge  of  holding  the  representative  theory.  In  all  cases  of  what  is  really  representative  knowledge, 
we  first  have  gained  the  idea  by  intuition,  before  we  compare  it  with  its  object.  Locke's  definition  of  knowl- 
edge as  the  discernment  of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  ideas,  wou.'d  preenrnently  and  only  properly 
apply  to  logical  knowledge,  or  that  knowledge  of  which  "generalized  concepts"  form  the  material,  and  are 
the  terms  compared.  The  language  in  which  he  expressly  distinguishes  between  the  two  kinds  of  knowl 
edge  justifies  this  interpretation  of  his  meaning.  "  In  the  former  case  [of  sensitive  knowledge],  our  knowl- 
edge is  the  consequence  of  things  producing  ideas  in  our  minds  by  our  senses.  In  the  latter,  knowledge  is 
the  consequence  of  the  ideas  (be  they  what  they  will)  that  are  in  our  minds,  producing  these  general  certain 
propositions."  Cf.  Essay,  B.  iv.  c.  ii.  §  14 ;  but  for  the  other  view,  B.  ii.  c.  viii.  §§  15,  16.  These  chapters  are 
worth  studying,  not  only  as  an  exposition  of  Locke's  real  meaning  in  respect  to  sense-knowledge,  but  aa 
illustrating  strikingly  how  far  he  was  indebted  to  and  influenced  by  the  doctrines  of  Descartes  and  Male- 
branche.  "  We  may  not  think  [as  perhaps  usually  is  done]  that  they  [ideas  of  sensible  qualities]  are  ex- 
actly the  images  and  resemblances  of  something  inherent  in  the  subject ;  most  of  those  of  sensation  being 
in  the  mind  no  more  the  likeness  of  something  existing  without  us,  than  the  names  that  stand  for  them  are 
the  likeness  of  our  ideas,  which  yet,  upon  hearing,  they  are  apt  to  excite  in  us."  Essay,  B.  ii.  c.  viii.  §  7. 
But  whatever  doubt  there  may  be  in  respect  to  the  doctrines  which  Locke  actually  taught  in  respect 
to  perception,  there  can  be  no  question  at  all  in  respect  to  the  construction  which  other  writers  gave  them, 
or  to  the  inferences  which  they  derived  from  the  principles  which  they  imputed  to  him. 

§  202.  Berkeley  (Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  §  18  577.),  assuming  that  ideas  only  are 
the  direct  objects  of  the  mind's  knowledge  in  sense-perception,  concludes  that  it  is  impos- 
l&W-lT&j'.  6°  '  ^k16  that  the  mind  should  know  that  the  material  or  external  world  exists  at  all.  It  \s 
impossible  that  the  mind  should  know  the  objects  which  the  ideas  are  said  to  resemble. 
For,  in  the  first  place,  one  idea  can  only  be  like  an  idea,  and  can  never  be  like  an  object ; 
and  second,  if  the  idea  was  like  the  object,  we  could  never  know  the  likeness  except  by  knowing  both  the  idea 
and  its  object.  All  that  the  mind  can  know  are  its  own  sensations  or  modifications.  The  distinction  betweei 
primary  and  secondary  qualities  is  not  well-founded.  It  is  true  we  know  that  it  is  only  on  occasion  of  theideab 
of  extension,  motion,  and  figure,  that  we  have  the  sensations  of  color,  taste,  and  sound.  Ideas  exist  only 
so  far  as  they  are  perceived.  The  laws  which  we  conceive  to  govern  material  things,  only  govern  the  conv 
binations  of  our  ideas.  Real  objects,  as  we  call  them,  are  only  combinations  of  ideas  ;  the  only  difference 
between  them  and  the  so-called  imaginary  ideas  consists  chiefly  in  this,  that  the  first  are  not  dependent  OB 
our  will  to  produce  them,  but  are  always  present  to  our  minds,  whether  we  will  or  no.  Imaginary  ideas, 
on  the  other  hand,  come  and  go  according  as  we  will.  Real  ideas  are  also  more  lively  and  distinct,  while 
hose  of  the  imagination  are  faint  and  confused.  The  knowledge  of  spirit  is  strikingly  contrasted  with  that 
which  we  have  of  matter.  "We  know  ourselves  and  our  own  states  or  modifications  directly.  We  know  oui 
thoughts,  feelings,  etc.,  not  their  ideas.  That  the  universe  impermanent  in  its  objects— viz.,  ideas— and 
also  in  its  laws,  is  to  be  explained  by  this,  that  the  Eternal  Spirit  constantly  sustains  and  presents  these 
ideas  for  the  contemplation  of  created  spirits.  By  means  of  these,  the  attributes  and  government  of  God 
are  made  known.  All  the  things  that  we  perceive,  are  the  ideas  of  God. 

Other  idealists,  as  Arthur  Collier,  maintained  the  non-existence  of  the  material  world  by  similar 
Arguments. 

David  Hume  was  not  content  to  apply  the  ideal  theory  to  the  world  of  matter,  but  he 
maintained  that  it  was  as  true  of  the  world  of  spirits,  rejecting  the  distinction  made  in 
favor  of  the  latter  by  Berkeley,  and  urging  that  we  know  nothing  of  the  mind  excepl 
only  the  ideas  which  we  experience,  and  dissolving  all  real  existences  into  mere  collec- 
tions of  ideas. 


§  203.  THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  233 

Berkeley's  Essay  toward  a  New  Theory  of  Vision,  1709,  was  the  most  important  contribution  which  he 
made  to  the  theory  of  sense-perception.  This  was  followed  hy  The  Theory  of  -Vision  Vindicated  and  Ex- 
plained, 1733.  In  these  essays  Berkeley  gave  greater  precision  and  fulness  to  the  doctrine  of  the  acquired 
perceptions.  The  fact  that  some  of  our  perceptions  are  acquired  was  familiarly  known  and  generally 
accepted  before  the  time  of  Berkeley.  It  was  generally  held,  however,  that  the  acquired  judgments  were 
formed  by  means  of  the  properties  of  light,  as  taught  in  the  science  of  optics.  This  doctrine  Berkeley 
»ets  aside,  and  clearly  establishes  the  truth  that  it  is  by  sensations  attending  the  varied  use  of  the  eyes, 
by  the  confusion  and  clearness  of  the  vision,  etc.,  etc.,  that  these  judgments  of  distance  and  magnitude 
are  formed,  and  that  these  judgments  are  wholly  matters  of  experience  of  what  is  the  ordinary  course  ol 
nature.  He  insists  that  visible  magnitude  has  no  relation  whatever  to  tangible  magnitude,  and  that  the 
"act  that  we  judge  of  one  by  the  other  is  simply  the  result  of  experience  ;  that  vision,  being  limited  tc 
;olor,  cnn  give  no  idea  of  distance.  He  attempts  to  prove,  moreover,  that  "the  extension,  figures,  and 
motions  perceived  by  sight  arc  specifically  distinct  from  the  ideas  of  touch,  called  by  the  same  names ;  nor 
Is  there  any  such  thing  as  one  idea,  or  kind  of  idea,  common  to  both  senses  ; "  the  so-called  visible  exten- 
sion, or  visible  space,  being  totally  unlike  tangible  space.  Some  of  these  extreme  and  paradoxical  ideas 
have  been  abandoned,  as  unsupported  by  a  sound  physiology  and  psychology  ;  but  Berkeley's  general  doc- 
trine of  the  acquired  perceptions  has  been  almost  universally  accepted  (cf.  §  142;. 

§  203.    The  most  distinguished  opponent  of  the  idealism  of  Berkeley  and  Hume  was 
Dr.  Thomas  Reid,  the  father  of  the  eo-called  Scotch  philosophy.     Being  startled  by  the 
t!1^'     consequences  which  these  writers  derived  from  their  construction  of  Locke's  theory  oi 
sense-perception,  he  was  led  to  review  not  only  the  doctrine  of  representative  percep- 
tion, but  also  some  other  principles  which  Locke  was  understood  to  advocate  in  respect 
to  the  origin  and  elements  of  knowledge.    He  attempted  to  supply  some  of  his  defects  by  establishing  the 
authority  of  common  sense,  or  intuitive  reason,  as  an  arbiter  of  philosophical  truth,  asserting  that  there 
are  original  axioms,  or  first  truths,  which  are  of  independent  and  paramount  authority. 

In  respect  to  sense-perception,  he  is  less  successful  in  stating  and  defending  his  own  theory,  than  he 
is  in  criticising  the  theories  of  the  advocates  of  representative  perception.  At  one  time  he  distinctly 
asserts  that  wo  perceive  material  things  directly,  without  the  intervention  of  ideas.  At  another,  he  a« 
distinctly  asserts  that,  on  occasion  of  certain  sensations,  the  existence  of  these  objects  is  suggested  to  the 
mind  with  an  irresistible  conviction. 

In  respect  to  the  qualities  of  matter,  he  holds  nearly  the  language  of  Locke,  except  that  he  denies 
that  the  primary  qualities  are  either  sensations,  or  resen.blances  of  sensations.  He  says  that  we  have  a 
direct  notion  of  them — that  we  know  them  as  they  are,  but  that  of  secondary  qualities  we  have  only  a 
relative  notion,  knowing  them  only  as  the  unknown  causes  of  known  psychical  effects.  But  what  we 
know  directly  in  knowing  primary  qualities,  he  does  not  define.  He  does  not  tell  us  whether,  in  knowing 
solidity,  we  know  any  thing  more  of  it  than  that  it  is  the  unknown  cause  of  a  sensation ;  nor  whether 
we  know  extension  and  externality  by  direct  intuition,  or  by  indirect  suggestion. 

He  does  not  correctly  conceive  and  consistently  treat  the  externality  which  is  affirmed  of  the  objects 
of  sense.  At  one  time  he  treats  it  as  though  it  were  the  not-body,  at  another,  as  though  it  were  the  not- 
spirit,  which  is  perceived  directly.  Not  clearly  conceiving  and  persistently  holding  a  just  conception  of  the 
problem  to  be  solved,  he  failed  to  solve  it  satisfactorily.  Strange  as  it  may  seem,  the  very  act  of  percep- 
tion which  he  is  to  define  and  defend,  he  does  not  consistently  conceive  of.  At  one  time  he  treats  it  aa 
though  it  was  an  act  by  which  a  quality  discerned  by  sense  is  referred  to  an  external  object  or  assemblage 
cf  qualities,  as  sweetness  is  referred  to  the  rose ;  at  another,  as  the  act  by  which  the  sweet  odor  is  known 
to  be,  and  to  be  distinct  from  the  percipient  mind.  In  other  words,  he  perpetually  confounds  the  acquired 
with  the  original  perceptions,  though  he  was  fnmiliar  with  the  distinction  between  the  two. 

Notwithstanding  these  defects  and  inconsistencies,  his  merits  were  great.  He  did  not  perfect  a  sound 
and  consistent  theory,  but  toward  such  a  theory  he  furnished  important  contributions. 

1.  He  successfully  exposed  the  groundlessness,  inconsistency,  and  contradictions  of  the  ancient  and 
modern  theories  of  representative  perception,  and  cleared  the  way  for  a  theory  more  accordant  with  com- 
mon experience  and  common  sense.    To  establish  to  the  conviction  of  all  men  the  untenableness  of  a  fals< 
theory  is  to  perform  no  inconsiderable  service  toward  the  vindication  of  a  theory  that  is  true.    Occam  anc 
Arnauld  both  made  the  attempt  to  set  aside  the  ideal  theory,  the  latter  with  equal  if  not  greater  acute- 
ncso  than  Reid  himself.     What  they  only  attempted,  Reid  successfully  achieved. 

2.  Reid  vindicated  the  general  principle,  that  no  theory  oi  perception  is  entitled  to  confidence  aa 
truly  philosophical,  which  contradicts  the  universal  conviction  and  the  common  sense  of  mankind,  when 
they  apply  their  understandings  to  the  judgment  of  truths  which  they  are  competent  to  decide  ujon. 
This  was  a  special  inference  from  the  general  axioms  of  Reid's  philosophy.    Buffier,  in  his  First  Truths, 
had  laid  down  th-e  same  position,  and  had  also  vindicated  the  trustworthiness  and  authority  of  sense-per- 
soption,  but  with  less  fulness  and  less  success  than  Reid. 

3.  Reid  insisted  that  the  mind  is  active  in  sense-perception,  and  did  this  with  an  earnestness  rare 
among  philosophers  not  only  of  the  English,  but  of  any  school  whatever.    The  ancients,  and  the  n.  oderns 
before  him,  did  indeed  assert  that  the  mind  is  active  in  its  higher  functions  ;  but  they  as  distinctly  denied 
that  it  was  rctive  in  the  lower.   It  has  been  nearly  the  uniform  doctrine  of  all  the  schools  that,  in  sense- pep 


234  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §204 

oeption,  objects  ant  upon  the  mind  so  as  to  impress  ideas,  and  that,  in  the  ree  jpt.on  of  thest  «dea*,  the  mind 
is  chiefly  or  wholly  passive.  Against  this  doctrine  Reid  occasionally  protests,  in  language  like  the  follow- 
ing  :  "  An  object,  in  being  perceived,  does  not  act  at  all.  I  perceive  the  walls  of  the  room  where  I  sit ;  but 
they  arc  perfectly  inactive,  and  therefore  act  not  upon  the  mind.  To  be  perceived  is  what  logicians  call  an 
external  denomination,  which  implies  neither  action  nor  quality  in  the  object  perceived.  Nor  could  men 
hare  ever  gone  into  this  notion  that  perception  is  owing  to  some  action  of  the  object  upon  the  mind,  were 
it  not  that  we  are  so  prone  to  form  our  notions  of  the  mind  from  some  similitude  we  conceive  between  it 
aud  body." 

To  this  Hamilton  takes  exception,  that  the  reasoning  is  not  original  with  Reid,  and  that  the  languagw 
is  not  sufficiently  qualified.  Both  are  doubtless  true,  but  the  value  of  the  remark  is  not  thereby  dimin- 
ished, nor  is  the  sagacity  of  its  author.  Arnauld  had  insisted,  in  a  similar  way,  that  the  mind  is  active 
in  perception,  but  the  assertion  had  scarcely  been  heeded. 

4.  As  intimately  connected  with  the  preceding,  Reid  asserts  that  the  faculty  and  act  of  judgment  are 
present  in  connection  with  the  perceptions  of  sense.    "  In  persons  come  to  years  of  understanding,  judg- 
ment necessarily  accompanies  all  sensation,  perception  by  the  senses,"  etc.    True,  Reid  was  not  original 
in  this ;  for  Malebranche,  Arnauld,  and  Burner  had  asserted  the  same.    It  may  be  said,  even,  that  the 
schoolmen  taught  the  same  doctrine,  when  they  introduced  the  higher  intellect  to  complete  the  process  of 
perception.    Reid  scarcely  acknowledged  the  presence  of  judgment,  except  in  the  sphere  of  the  acquired 
perceptions ;  only  in  his  doctrine  of  suggestion  he  provided  for  it  a  place  in  the  original  intuitions,  and  in 
this  made  some  advance  upon  the  previously-accepted  theory. 

5.  Reid  recognized  and  enforced  the  distinction  between  sensation  and  perception,  and  thus  prepared 
the  way  for  the  correct  and  completed  determination  of  the  two  elements  in  the  process.    The  older  phi- 
losophers distinguished  between  the  element  of  sense  and  the  element  of  intellect.    But  they  kept  the  two 
BO  far  separate,  as  not  to  allow  their  presence  in  the  act  of  original  intuition,  and  so  failed  to  re-cognize 
that  intimate  relation  between  the  two,  which  the  facts  of  experience  attest  and  vouch  for. 

$  201.    Dugald  Stewart,  the  successor  of  Reid  in  the  school  of  Scotch  philosophers, 
, ,  „.  followed  closely  and  almost  timidly  in  the  footsteps  of  his  predecessor,  whom  he  greatly 

1753-18°8  '     admired  and  revered.    He  adopted  the  views  of  Reid  in  the  main,  but  introduced 

greater  precision  into  the  distinctions  which  he  established,  and  somewhat  enlarged  the 
range  of  the  questions  which  he  had  started  for  discussion.  In  these  ways,  without 
contributing  any  new  matter  to  the  correct  theory  of  sense-perception,  he  rendered  very  important  service 
toward  its  final  determination.  He  stated  the  questions  more  clearly,  drew  the  distinctions  more  pre- 
cisely, materially  enlarged  the  range  of  observation,  and  enabled  succeeding  philosophers  to  face  more 
distinctly  the  problems  which  needed  solution. 

1.  Ke  discriminated  more  carefully  between  sensation  and  perception  than  Reid.    He  limited  percep- 
tion to  the  act  of  apprehending  the  objects  appropriate  to  each  separate  sense,  and  escaped  the  confusion 
and  ambiguity  which  Reid  committed,  of  confounding  the  original  with  the  acquired  perceptions. 

Of  three  of  the  senses — smell,  taste,  and  hearing — he  denied  perception  altogether  in  fact,  though  not 
inform.  He  expressly  asserted  that  these,  by  themselves,  give  no  information  of  external  objects  (OvJ- 
lines  of  Moral  Philosophy,  §  15).  He  asserts  that  the  sensation  of  color,  even  as  given  in  vision,  can  reside 
in  the  mind  only,  and  is  purely  subjective ;  giving  no  relation  of  extension,  and  in  our  early  experience 
clearly  separable  from  it.  It  is  connected  with  the  primary  qualities  by  a  necessary  belief  of  the  mind  ; 
and  so  readily  does  the  one  suggest  the  other,  as  the  mind  is  developed,  that  we  conceive  of  color  as  spread 
over  the  surface  of  bodies,  under  the  influence  of  an  insurmountable  association.  (Elements,  V.  ii.  c.  L  §  2). 
He  even  suggests  that  the  primary  qualities,  as  extension  and  figure,  are  attended  by  sensations  of  theii 
own,  which  perform  the  office  of  signs  only,  without  attracting  any  notice  to  themselves  ;  so  that,  as  they 
are  seldom  accompanied  with  either  pleasure  or  pain,  we  acquire  an  habitual  inattention  to  them  in  early 
infancy,  which  is  not  easily  surmounted  in  our  maturer  years.  (Outlines,  etc.,  §  32.) 

Whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  correctness  of  these  views,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  served  tc 
draw  more  finely  and  to  render  more  exact  the  distinction  between  sensation  and  perception,  as  well  as  to 
bring  out  more  distinctly  the  truth,  that  perception  has  chiefly  to  do  with  the  two  relations  of  eiternality 
*nd  of  extension ;  and  that  the  chief  question  which  we  need  to  answer  in  respect  to  percepticli  is  this : 
How  and  when  does  the  mind  apprehend  objects  as  external  and  extended  ? 

2.  Stewart  apprehended,  fivr  more  clearly  than  Reid,  the  true  character  of  what  he  calls  the  mathe- 
matical affections  of  matter,  and  the  relation  of  these  afiec:ions  to  space  and  to  our  belief  in  space  as  a 
necessary  existence.    These  mathematical  affections  are  extension  and  figure,  and  are  distinguished  from 
the  other  primary  qualities,  such  as  hardness  or  solidity,  and  are  thus  characterized  :  1.  They  presuppose 
the  existence  of  our  external  senses.    2.  The  notion  (if  them  involves  an  irresistible  conviction  of  the 
external  existence  of  their  objects— viz.,  of  space.    3.  This  conviction  is  neither  the  result  of  reasoning, 
nor  of  experience,  but  is  inseparable  from  the  very  conception  of  it,  and  must  therefore  be  considered  ai 
an  ultimate  and  essential  law  of  human  thought.    (Phil.  Essays,  chap.  ii.  §  2.) 

These  remarks  of  Stewart  in  respect  to  space  and  extension  are  more  discriminating  than  those  of 
Reil  upon  the  same  topic,  and  bring  distinctly  to  view  the  distinctions  and  problems  which  are  necescarilj 
Involved  in  a  complete  theory  of  sense-perception. 


§205.  THKOEIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  285 

3.  Stewart  adds  to  the  doctrine  of  Reid,  that  we  believe  in  the  existence  of  the  material  woild,  by  a 
necessary  suggestion.  The  explanation  of  our  belief  in  its  permanence,  he  finds  in  our  more  compre- 
hensive belief  in  the  permanence  of  the  laws  of  Nature.  Intuitive  suggestion  would  give  us  only  tha 
present  existence  of  objects  correspondent  to  our  sensttions.  But  we  also  need  some  ground  of  our  beliei 
in  their  permanent  existence,  and  thia  is  given  in  the  more  comprehensive  intuition  which  concerns  the  past 
and  the  future,  as  well  as  the  present. 

The  authority  and  the  necessity  of  this  intuition  were  recognized  by  Dr.  Reid,  but  the  application 
of  it  to  the  completion  of  the  act  of  sense-perception  was  original  -with  Stewart.  Further  reflection  would 
doubtless  have  led  him  to  ackno'wledge,  that  no  act  of  sense-perception  can  be  complete  without  involving 
also  some  process  of  induction.  But  in  recognizing  the  necessity  of  this  principle,  Stewart  elevates  the 
act  of  perception  from  a  passive  receptivity  to  an  active  energy,  and  also  does  justice  to  one  of  the  intel- 
lectual elements  which  are  necessary  to  make  it  complete. 

§  205.  Dr.   Thomas  Brown  followed  in  the  same  school  with  Reid  and  Stewart.    He 

Dr.   Thomas     pushed  the  distinction  between  sensation  and  perception  to  a  greater  refinement  than 

Brown,       1778-     Stewart  had  done,  and  went  so  far  as  to  reject  altogether  the  distinction  between  the 

primary  and  the  secondary  qualities.    The  analysis  which  he  has  given  of  the  processea 

and  the  products  of  the  sense-perceptions,  is  the  boldest  and  one  of  the  most  subtle 

which  is  to  be  found  in  the  whole  compass  of  English  psychology.    "Whatever  opinion  may  be  formed  of 

the  soundness  of  Dr.  Brown's  opinions,  he  cannot  fail  to  receive  credit  for  the  ingenuity  of  this  analysis. 

1.  Dr.  Brown  attached  great  importance  to  the  muscular  sensations.    He  was  one  of  the  earliest  of 
English  psychologists  to  recognize  and  to  distinguish  them  from  the  sensations  as  usually  accepted.    Thia 
distinction  is  now  almost  universally  adopted.    Dr.  Brown  made  so  much  of  these  sensations,  as  to  derive 
from  these  alone  the  notions  of  extension  and  of  externality.    He  not  only  insisted,  with  Stewart,  that 
the  sensations  of  color  are  independent  of  and  need  convey  no  notion  of  extension,  but  that  even  the  sen- 
sations appropriate  to  touch  are  as  truly  subjective,  and  that  both  suggest  the  extended  and  external  object 
only  through  an  inveterate  essociation. 

The  process  or  method  by  which  the  muscular  sensations  give  extension,  is  thus  explained  :  In  tha 
contraction  and  expansion  of  any  of  the  muscles — as,  for  example,  those  of  the  hand — there  is  a  succession 
of  similar  feelings,  each  of  which,  taken  singly,  would  be  only  a  subjective  state  of  the  soul's  experience, 
or  a  simple  sensation.  But  when  these  are  contemplated  in  a  succession  or  series— that  is,  when  they  are 
connected  in  time  so  as  to  be  reviewed  by  the  memory — they  suggest  at  once  one  of  the  dimensions  of 
space,  or  extension.  The  muscular  sensations  alone  are  competent  to  this,  because  they  alone  are  capable 
of  producing  many  repetitions  of  the  same  series.  Hence,  to  these  is  limited  the  office  of  giving  extension, 
and  of  connecting  our  other  sensations  with  space,  and  with  objects  in  space. 

The  manner  in  which  the  muscular  sensations  were  supposed  by  Brown  to  acquaint  us  with  an  exter- 
nal object,  has  already  been  explained  and  discussed  (§  130). 

The  critical  inquiry  must  suggest  itself  to  any  mind  :  "Why  may  not  the  muscular  sensations  be  at 
truly  and  entirely  subjective  as  any  of  the  sensations  proper  ?  If  one  such  sensation,  taken  singly,  is  purelj 
subjective,  why  not  a  series  1  How  can  it  be  that  a  series  of  such  sensations,  in  the  order  or  relation  o 
time,  should  become  even  the  occasion  cr  suggestion  of  relations  of  place  or  space  ? 

2.  It  is  obvious  from  this  analysis,  that  Dr.  Brown  scarcely  recognizes  the  distinction  adopted  by  Reid 
between  sensation  and  perception.    So  far  as  t  he  original  perceptions  are  concerned,  he  rejects  it  altogether, 
as  indeed  he  must,  perforce.    The  only  acts  of  perception  which  he  acknowledges  or  describes,  are  acts  of 
acquired  perception.    It  is  only  when  through  the  muscular  sensations  we  are  furnished  with  external  and 
extended  objects,  that  we  learn  to  attach  to  these  our  several  sensations. 

Indeed  the  language  which  Brown  habitually  uses,  expresses  his  rejection  of  the  fact  of  perception. 
He  speaks  of  our  feeling  even  of  extension,  as  though,  because  the  act  of  the  mind  were  performed  by 
the  mind  itself,  therefore  the  act  must  be  wholly  or  chiefly  subjective  ;  in  other  words,  because  the  mind 
is  subjectively  active  in  knowing,  it  can  only  directly  know  its  own  states,  and  never  an  object  differing 
from  itself  or  its  own  modifications. 

He  refers  our  belief  in  the  external  and  material  world  to  the  principle  of  causation.  We  know  oul 
sensations  as  subjective  states  of  the  soul.  "We  believe  that  they  must  be  produced  by  a  cause.  We 
know  that  they  are  not  caused  by  ourselves.  There  must  be  causes  other  than  ourselves.  These  causes 
are  material  non-egos.  The  existence  of  these  non-egos  is  not  suggested  directly,  as  Reid  teaches,  but 
it  is  inferred.  "  Perception,  then,  even  in  that  class  of  feelings  by  which  we  learn  to  consider  our- 
selves as  surrounded  by  substances  extended  and  resisting,  is  only  another  name,  as  I  have  said,  for  the 
result  of  certain  associations  and  inferences  that  flow  from  other  more  general  principles  of  the  mind" 
(Lee.  26,  cf.  §  130). 

When  Brown  makes  such  frequent  use  of  the  principle  of  causation  in  his  theory  of  sense-percep- 
jion,  we  ought  not  to  fail  to  remember  that  his  views  of  causation  are  peculiar,  both  in  respect  to  the 
nature  of  the  relation  itself,  and  the  ground  of  our  confidence  in  its  necessity  and  universality.  The  re- 
marK  is  equally  applicable  to  all  his  followers  and  to  the  disciples  of  kindred  schools,  particularly  to  tha 
doctrines  and  definitions  of  J.  Stuart  Mill,  concerning  sense-perception  and  its  objects. 

3.  Ii  is  equally  clea«  *.hat  Brown,  to  be  consistent,  would  reject  nearly  or  altogether  the  distinciior 


236  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  206. 

between  the  primary  acd  the  secondary  qualities  of  matter,  as  explained  by  Reid,  and  in  part,  adopted 
by  Stewart.  He  maintains  that  there  is  a  certain  propriety  in  the  distinction,  but  that  it  is  not  giver,  by 
our  original  perceptions  themselves,  but  only  arises  upon  reflection.  It  is  only  by  a  secondary  and  arti 
flcial  process  that  we  reach  the  belief  of  extension  and  extended  objects.  The  distinction  between  th« 
primary  and  secondary  qualities  must  necessarily  be  subsequent  to  thig  belief. 

Dr.  Brown  founded  no  school,  in  the  proper  sense  of  the  word,  but  his  doctrines  have  had  no  little 
Influence  in  respect  to  many  important  questions  in  psychology  and  philosophy.  The  associationalista 
and  the  cerebralists  have,  in  many  points,  reproduced  his  views,  and  refer  to  him  as  a  high  authority. 
James  Mill,  1773-1836  (Analysis  of  the  Phenomena  of  the  Human  Mind),  follows  him  very  closely  in  the 
subjective  and  sensational  character  which  he  gives  to  our  knowledge  of  matter,  and  in  the  resolution 
of  the  higher  acts  of  intelligence,  as  well  as  of  the  belief  in  time  and  space,  and  in  all  necessary  truths, 
into  the  law  of  association  (cf.  Chaps,  ii.,  iii.,  and  xi.)  John  Stuart  Mill,  the  son,  follows  close  in  the  st<rps 
of  both,  in  his  definitions  of  sensations  and  of  material  objects  (Logic,  B.  i.  c.  iii.  §  §  8,  4,  and  7.  Ex- 
amination of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  etc.,  chaps,  xi.,  xiii.,  xiv.)  With  him  also  agree,  in 
these  common  peculiarities,  received  from  Dr.  Brown,  Alexander  Bain  (The  Senses  and  the  Intellect), 
and  Herbert  Spencer  (Principles  of  Psychology). 

§  206.  This  deservedly  eminent  and  excellent  Professor  of  Logic  and  Metaphysics  in 
Sir  William  tae  University  of  Edinburgh,  was  one  of  the  greatest  philosophers  of  Great  Britain. 

Hamilton,  He  devoted  his  researches  to  two  leading  topics  :  Formal  Logic,  and  the  Theories  of 

1788-1860.  Sense-perception.    He  had  studied  the  history  of  these   theories  with  greater  care 

than  any  one  of  his  own  time,  and  had  gathered  from  his  historical  researches  the 
most  valuable  results  iu  the  way  of  observation  and  analysis.  His  contributions  are  important  in 
respect  to  all  the  points  which  have  been  noticed. 

1.  Sensation  and  perception  were  more  carefully  discriminated  by  him,  as  to  their  nature  and  mate- 
rial relations,  than  by  any  philosopher  before  his  time.  They  are  viewed  by  him  as  inseparable  elements 
of  a  single  mental  state,  and  are  called  sensation  and  perception  proper.  Sensation  does  not  precede 
perception  in  the  order  of  time,  nor  of  conscious  experience,  though  it  is  its  essential  condition,  so  far, 
at  least,  that  :io  perception  is  formed  except  in  connection  with  an  excited  sensation. 

But  though  these  are  inseparable  elements,  and  are  always  present  in  the  apprehension  of  every 
material  object,  they  are  not  active  with  the  same  energy  or  intenseness.  Asa  general  rule,  the  energy 
of  the  one  is  inversely  as  that  of  the  other. 

Further,  sensation  and  perception,  as  coexistent  elements  of  the  same  mental  act,  are  contrasted  as 
special  acts  or  experiences  of  feeling  and  knowledge  ;  with  this  difference,  however,  that  sensation-proper 
is  an  affection  not  of  the  soul  only,  but  of  the  body  as  united  with  the  soul,  or,  more  exactly,  of  the  organism 
as  animated  by  the  soul,  and  otherwise  made  capable  of  sentient  experiences.  Sensation,  as  experienced 
in  the  organism,  necessarily  involves  the  relation  of  relative  locality  ;  it  being  impossible  that  a  sensation 
ehould  be  experienced,  and  yet  not  be  placed  with  more  or  less  distinctness  in  some  part  of  the  organism. 
It  may  here  be  observed,  that,  however  correct  Hamilton  may  be  in  the  view  that  sensation  is 
necessarily  placed — i.  e.,  experienced  under  some  relation  of  extension,  the  question  will  at  once  occur, 
how  far  this  position  is  consistent  with  the  other  position,  that  sensation-proper  and  perception-proper 
are  contrasted  as  feeling  and  knowledge.  An  affection  experienced  with  some  apprehended  relation  of 
place,  must  include  some  object  and  act  of  knowledge ;  and,  if  so,  then  the  two  are  only  ideally  conceiva- 
ble, as  reciprocally  knowledge  and  feeling.  Rather,  the  classification  should  be  threefold,  into  knowledge, 
feeling,  and  sensation  ;  the  last  partaking  somewhat  of  both.  According  to  his  classification,  the  soul 
should  be  treated  as  endowed  with  the  power  of  sensation  or  sense-perception,  knowledge,  emotion,  and 
will.  If  this  classification  is  adopted,  the  phenomena  of  sense-perception  must  be  referred  to  the  joint 
action  of  sensation  and  knowledge ;  knowledge,  in  its  appropriate  and  higher  forms  of  action,  being  con- 
fessedly involved  in  the  apprehension  of  material  qualities  and  material  objects. 

2.  Hamilton  asserts  that  sense-perception  involves  the  action  of  the  intelligence  in  the  form  of  judg- 
ment, or  the  discrimination  of  relations.  It  follows  of  necessity  that,  in  perception,  man  is  active,  and 
not  simply  receptive  or  passive.  These  important  truths  Hamilton  enforces  on  every  occasion. 

He  is  not,  however,  sufficiently  explicit  in  showing  the  variety  of  acts  of  judgment  which  are  in- 
volved in  the  several  processes  of  sense-perception,  from  the  most  elementary  to  the  most  complicated. 
Nor  does  he  state  how  the  act  of  perception,  which  is  also  an  act  of  judgment,  can  possibly  differ  from 
»n  act  of  thought.  In  defining  the  elaborative  faculty,  or  the  power  of  thought,  he  makes  it  to  be  the 
faculty  of  relations.  But  sense-perception,  so  far  as  it  involves  judgment,  knows  objects  in  their  rela- 
tions, and  is  so  far  coincident  with  the  higher  power  of  thought.  The  only  possible  ground  for  discrim- 
!r  ating  the  two,  is  in  the  fact  that  the  presentative  power  apprehends  and  judges  individual  objects,  and 
the  elaborative  power  apprehends  and  judges  objects  which  are  general,  and  the  relatio  JS  \rhich  they 
Involve. 

B  In  respect  to  extension  and  space,  Hamilton  teaches,  with  Kant  and  a  multitude  of  others,  thh.. 
while  the  special  relations  of  every  material  body  are  known  by  sense-perception,  yet  space  itself  is  pre- 
lupposed  by  the  intuition  of  the  intellect,  in  order  that  it  may  be  possible  for  all  of  these  relations  to  be 
percehed  aa  actual.  Space  must  be  known  d  priori,  in  order  that  extension  may  be  known  dposlerioii 


§206.  THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  235 

Moreover,  he  teaches,  as  has  already  been  explained  under  No.  1,  that  all  the  senses  involve  ihf 
relation  of  extension,  some  with  greater,  and  others  with  less  definitenes*,  and  that  it  is  absurd,  antf 
contrary  to  experience,  to  teach  that  the  sensations  of  sound  and  smell  are  purely  spiritual  affections. 

The  extension  which  is  apprehended  in  the  original  acts  of  sense-perception,  is  primarily  ltd  oxxea. 
sion  that  pertains  to  the  portions  of  the  sensorium  which  are  excited  in  a  determinate  way.  The 
space-relations  which  are  affirmed  of  material  objects,  are  indirectly  apprehended  and  acquired. 

4.  In  respect  to  externality,  Hamilton  teaches  positively  though  not  with  so  great  clearness  afl 
is  desirable,  that  the  term  is  used  in  two  senses  :  (1)  as  denoting  the  diversity  of  the  sentient  organism 
from  the  perceiving  intellect ;  and  (2)  the  diversity  of  material  objects  from  the  material  organism  which 
the  soul  animates,  and  by  which  it  apprehends. 

In  respect  to  the  first  of  these  relations,  he  asserts  that  it  is  directly  apprehended  in  every  act  of 
sense  perception— it  being  impossible  that  a  sensation  should  be  experienced  without  being  apprehended 
as  belonging  to  that  organism  which  is  diverse  from,  or  external  to  the  mind,  as  well  as  animated  by  it. 
This  is  a  necessary  element  of  the  doctrine  of  natural  realism,  or  of  immediate  perception. 

In  respect  to  the  second,  he  teaches  that  it  is  gained  by  the  exercise  of  the  locomotive  power  in  the 
form  of  muscular  effort.  This  effort  is  resisted,  and  with  the  resistance  is  gained  the  correlative  of  a 
resirtinir  something,  external  to  the  body  or  sentient  organism.  "  When  I  am  conscious  of  the  exertion 
of  an  euorganic  volition  to  move,  and  aware  that  the  muscles  are  obedient  to  my  will,  but  at  the  same 
time  aware  that  my  limb  is  arrested  in  its  motion  by  some  external  impediment,  in  this  case  I  cannot  be 
conscious  of  myself  as  the  resisted  relative,  without  at  the  same  time  being  conscious,  being  immedi- 
ately percipient  of  a  not-self  as  the  resisting  correlative." 

We  do  not  doubt  that  the  exercise  of  muscular  effort  has  an  important  agency  in  enabling  the  mind 
to  apprehend  externality  of  material  objects;  but  we  cannot  agree  with  Hamilton,  that  it  attains  thia 
knowledge  in  the  way  or  on  the  sole  conditions  in  which  he  asserts  that  it  does;  or  that,  if  it  did,  this 
would  be  properly  termed  an  immediate  perception.  The  conditions  supposed  are,  that  the  mind  should 
know  its  own  muscular  efforts,  and  distinguish  itself  as  the  cause  of  such  "  anorganic  volition,"  in  or 
over  these  efforts.  But  this  distinction,  if  it  be  allowed  to  be  real,  is  too  subtle  and  refined  to  attract  the 
attention  at  a  very  early  stage  ii;  the  mind's  development."  If  it  be  possible  to  account  for  it  by  another 
nnd  more  natural  process,  it  is  far  more  rational  to  do  so.  Such  a  solution  we  have  attempted  to  furnish, 
in  the  processes  by  which  the  mind  combines  the  muscular  and  tactual  perceptions,  both  of  which  are 
more  likely  to  attract  the  attention  at  an  early  period,  and  are  more  rapidly  distinguished  than  is  the 
mind's  spiritual  activity,  and  its  effects  upon,  or  rather  within  the  organism. 

But  if  we  suppose  the  process  or  the  conditions  stated  by  Hamilton  to  be  correctly  stated,  the  conse- 
quent apprehension  would  not  properly  be  called  "an  immediate  perception;"  for  it  would  manifestly 
depend  on  the  application  of  the  relation  of  causality.  The  conclusion  would  be  reasoned  out  by  the  fol- 
lowing process  :  Here  is  an  effect  of  which  I  am  not  the  author— viz.,  an  experienced  resistance.  There 
is  no  force  known  to  me  within  the  organism  which  is  competent  to  produce  it.  That  force  must  there- 
fore be  extra-organic,  and  external  to  my  body.  This  is  very  different  from  the  immediate  perception  of 
a  correlative  invoking  the  apprehension  of  its  relative.  We  grant  that  on  the  supposition  that  we  ap- 
prehend one  term  of  two  correlatives,  we  must  immediately  apprehend  the  other.  This  follows  -by  th« 
force  of  logical  necessity.  But  this  logical  discernment  of  an  alternative  is  very  different  from  the  ap- 
Drehension  of  a  fact,  or  existing  thing,  which,  when  ascertained  to  be  real,  must  of  course  he  appre- 
hended as  diverse  from  another  being. 

5.  The  qualities  of  material  objects  are  treated  by  Hamilton  as  though,  as  qualities,  they  were  the 
direct  objects  of  immediate  sense-perception.    This  view  is  certainly  implied  in  the  whole  of  his  doctrine, 
and  his  history  of  the  sensible  qualities  of  matter.    At  least,  no  hint  is  given  of  the  contrary.    And  yet, 
strange  as  it  may  seem,  Hamilton  distinguishes  these  qualities,  so  far  as  they  come  within  the  sphere  of 
psychology,  as  considered  from  the  two  points  furnished  by  sense  and  the  understanding,  "  the  last  prin- 
ciple of  division  "  being  "  the  different  character  under  which  the  qualities,  already  apprehended,  arw 
conceived  or  construed  to  the  mind  in  thought."    We  have  to  do  with  the  first  only. 

A  quality  or  attribute  presupposes  a  substance  to  which  it  is  related.  It  cannot  be  known  as  a 
quality  except  it  be  believed  or  known  to  be  thus  related.  If,  then,  a  primary  quality  is  known  as  a 
quality  by  immediate  perception,  then  it  must  be  directly  known  to  be  related  to  its  substratum  or  sub- 
stance, and  the  relation  of  substance  and  attribute  is  discerned  in  every  act  of  original  perception.  All 
this  is  implied  in  this  doctrine  of  Hamilton.  If  it  be  conceded  that  this  is  true  of  the  primary  qualrty  of 
extension,  and  even  of  the  other— viz.,  solidity— it  has  been  shown  that  it  cannot,  by  Hamilton's  own 
eliowing,  be  true  of  the  secun do-primary  qualities,  which  are  comprehended  under  resistance  or  pressure  ; 
all  of  those,  according  to  Hamilton,  involving  a  relation  to  the  locomotive  energy  of  the  percipient.  As 
to  the  secondary,  Hamilton  himself  abandons  the  position  he  had  assumed,  by  in  terms  denying  that 
they  are  objects  of  perception  at  all,  being,  as  be  justly  remarks,  the  unknown  causes  of  subjective  af- 
fections in  the  pei cipiei.ta,  and  therefore  incapable  of  being  immediately  perceived.  Here  we  notice 
also  an  inconsistency,  or,  at  least,  an  imperfection  of  statement.  Sensation,  In  Hamilton's  theory, 
is  in  no  sense  a  purely  subjective  affection  in  the  sentient.  Color,  sound,  smell,  are  conceived  of  as 
affections  of  the  animated  organism,  and  color  involves  relations  of  extension  and  relative  position 


239  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §  200. 

Thin  Is  overlooked  by  Hamilton  in  his  statement,  though  perhaps  not  in  his  conception, of  the  secondary 
qualities. 

His  doctrine  of  the  perception  of  the  qualities  of  matter,  as  qualities,  is  but  another  example,  as  it  ii 
a  consequence, of  his  failure  exactly  to  discriminate  between  perception  and  thought.  The  fact  is,  that 
ituriediate  perception,  if  it  can  apprehend  any  qualities  or  relations  of  matter,  can  only  apprehend  tbosa 
which  belong  to  the  animate  organism,  this  being  the  first  and  only  object  of  immediate  perception. 

6.  Hamilton  sometimes  confounds  the  conditions  of  perception  with  perception  itself.     In  genera], 
he  guards  against  such  confusion.    So  learned  an  historian  and  so  acute  a  critic  of  the  theories  of  other* 
oonld  not  fail  to  observe  that  no  occasion  of  error  had  been  more  fruitful  or  dangerous  than  this  ;  and 
yet,  in  some  instances,  he  fails  to  guard  himself  wholly  against  its  influence. 

He  yields  to  this  snare  in  applying  the  doctrine  of  latent  modifications  of  the  mind  to  the  phenomena 
of  vision  and  hearing.  He  argues  that,  because  two  portions  of  extension,  or  two  parts  of  an  extended 
Bnbstance,  each  of  which  by  itself  is  invisible,  become  visible  when  annexed  so  as  to  form  one  continuity, 
that  therefore  each  of  them,  by  itself,  must  obscurely  afl'ect  the  eensorium  or  the  mind.  So,  two  separate 
sounds,  each  one  of  which  might  be  too  feeble  to  be  heard  alone,  when  uttered  together,  cannot  fail  to  be 
heard.  In  both  these  cases  the  distinction  is  overlooked  between  the  action  of  physical  or  physiological 
stimuli  upon  the  sensorium,  and  their  effect  on  the  sensorium  as  the  appropriate  and  indeed  the 
only  condition  of  the  responses  of  conscious  sentiency  or  perception.  One  or  two  sounds  or  sights  might 
be  too  feeble  to  arouse  the  organism,  when  both  together  would  excite  it  to  action.  It  does  not  follow 
from  this  that  either  alone  would  affect  the  soul  even  obscurely. 

More  wonderful  still  is  it  that  Hamilton  dues  not  take  notice  of  the  inconsistency  in  his  own  views 
of  latent  modifications  of  the  soul.  In  commenting  upon  the  phraseology  of  Leibnitz  in  such  terms  as 
obscure  ideas,  obscure  representations,  insensible  perceptions,  etc.,  he  remarks:  "  In  this  he  violated  the 
universal  usage  of  language.  For  perception,  and  idea,  and  representation,  all  properly  involve  the  notion 
of  its  being,  in  fact,  contradictory  to  speak  of  a  representation  not  really  represented,  a  perception  not 
really  perceived,  an  actual  idea  of  whose  presence  we  are  not  aware."  (Met.  Lee.  xvii.)  And  yet,  when 
he  argues  against  the  doctrine  of  Stewart,  he  contends  that  objects  may  affect  our  consciousness  and  yet 
not  be  remembered.  We  contend  "that  this  is  impossible,  and  that  it  is  more  philosophical  to  suppose 
that  we  are  not  conscious  of  them  in  any  sense."  (.Lecture  xviii.) 

Again,  when  Hamilton,  in  illustrating  his  doctrine  that  the  immediate  object  perceived  by  vision 
is  not  distant,  but  in  contact  with  the  organ,  he  says  the  moon  which  we  see  is  but  "  the  complement  of 
the  rays  of  light  as  affecting  the  organism,"  What  he  intends  is  doubtless  correct,  but  certainly  it  is  not 
the  light  which  we  see  in  any  sense  as  a  physical  agent,  but  what  the  light  combined  with  the  organism 
gives  us,  or  produces  for  us  ;  this,  and  this  only,  is  the  object  seen. 

When,  also,  he  asserts  that  in  such  case  "  the  external  object  is  in  immediate  contact  with  the 
organ,"  and  that  in  this  sense  it  is  true  "  that  all  our  senses  are  only  modifications  of  touch,"  there  is  a 
similar  confusion  of  the  conditions  of  the  act  of  perception  with  the  object  actually  perceived,  and  as 
actually  perceived.  Physically  it  may  be  true  that  in  order  that  the  object  be  immediately  perceived,  some 
physical  thing  or  being  must  be  brought  into  contact  with  the  organ  or  the  organism,  but  it  does  not 
follow,  therefore,  that  what  is  perceived  should  be  touched  or  known  by  means  either  of  superficial 
touch  or  of  muscular  energy.  That  both  of  them  may  accompany  every  sense-perception  with  more  or 
less  definite  apprehension,  is  true.  A  conspicuous  example  is  the  union  of  touch  and  taste  in  the  sense- 
perceptions  given  by  the  tongue.  But,  as  has  already  been  shown,  what  is  immediately  perceived  is  the 
organism  in  a  given  condition  of  sentiency.  Touch,  as  giving  the  material  object  external  to  the  or- 
ganism, is  an  acquired,  and  list  an  immediate  perception  at  all. 

7.  Hamilton  attaches  toe  great  importance  to  the  subjective  sensations,  or  the  idiopathic  affections 
of  the  nervous  system,  which  are  excited  by  electrical  action,  indigestion,  or  a  blow.    The  sparks  which 
are  elicited  by  a  blow  over  the  eyes,  the  light,  the  sound,  the  taste,  the  ringing  of  the  ears  which  elec- 
tric or  other  agencies  occasion,  are  doubtless  owing  to  a  peculiar  stimulus  of  the  sensorium,  and  to  this 
only.  The  occurrence  of  such  phenomena  demonstrates  that  similar  phenomena  when  they  continue  long- 
er and  are  more  distinctly  experienced,  are  owing  to  the  power  of  external  objects  to  excite  the  organism 
to  a  similar  reaction  ;  the  sensation  being  dependent  on  the  proper  excitement  of  the  energies  latent  in 
the  organism.    But  the  brief  duration  and  the  indefinite  character  of  the  sensations  themselves,  when 
contrasted  with  the  continued  existence  and  the  definite  consciousness  of  those  sensations  that  give  us 
the  knowledge  of  existing  things,  show  also  that  the  power  of  the  object  to  excite  has  quite  as  much  to 
do  with  the  result,  as  the  capacity  of  the  organism  to  be  acted  upon.    The  result  is  a  product  of  their 
loii  it  forces,  both  of  which  are  equally  essential  to  the  issue,  and  the  issue  itself  is  the  psychical  act  of 
such  perception. 

8.  Hamilton's  theory  of  perception  is  vitiated  still  further  by  the  metaphysical  assumption  that  we 
know  directly  only  phenomena,  whether  of  matter  or  of  mind  ;  and  that  the  phenomena  of  either  are 
relative  to  our  faculties,  which  are  themselves  conceived  as  capable  of  variety  and  change,  involving 
variety  and  change  in  the  products  or  objects  known.    This  theory,  derived  from  Kant,  is  liable  to  the 
most  serious  objections,  on  general  grounds  and  in  other  applications.     So  far  as  sense-perception  is 
aoncernecU  it  is  defective  in  that  it  assumes  that  phenomena,  as  suck,  are  the  -Direct  objects,  and  the  only 


§206. 


THEORIES   OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION. 


direct  objects  of  the  mind's  knowledge.  We  hold  that  neither  phenomena  no*  qualities,  as  such,  are 
perceived,  but  objects,  percepts,  or  beings  ;  and  that  it  is  by  an  after-thought,  or  reflex  process,  that 
these  are  connected  as  qualities,  and  are  referred  to  substances  (cf.  §  164). 

9.  The  most  eminent  service  which  Hamilton  has  rendered  to  the  theory  of  sense-perception,  is  his 
criticism  of  all  the  possible  forms  of  the  doctrine  of  representative  or  mediate  perception,  and  his  dem- 
onstration that  every  such  theory  is  untenable. 

We  give  the  substance  of  his  criticism  in  our  own  language,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  interposing 
tuch  qualifications  and  explanations  as  may  serve  to  illustrate  and  explain  it. 

In  respect  to  the  act  of  sense-perception,  one  of  two  positions  may  be  taken.  The  mind  is  endowed 
with  the  power  of  perceiving  material  objects  by  a  direct  and  intuitive  energy,  without  the  intervention 
of  any  intermediate  object ;  or,  the  mind  can  perceive  material  objects  only  through  the  medium  of  some 
Intervening  object. 

It  will  here  be  observed,  that  the  alternative  does  not  relate  to  the  conditions  of  such  perception 
whether  material  or  physiological.  It  is  simply  a  question  whether  there  are  or  are  not  intermediate 
objects  in  the  psychological  act. 

If  the  first  position  be  taken,  then  the  only  obligation  which  rests  upon  the  philosopher,  is  to  state 
the  conditions  which  are  essential  to  the  act,  and  to  analyze  the  act  into  its  elementary  constituents,  as 
jrfven  in,  or  inferred  from  our  conscious  experience  and  careful  observation. 

The  person  who  takes  the  second  position  is  bound  to  show  why  this  hypothesis  is  necessary.  The 
natural  and  universal  belief  of  mankind  is,  that  objects  are  perceived  directly.  He  who  asserts  that 
this  is  impossible,  ought  to  give  some  reason  for  deviating  from  this  belief.  The  several  reasons  that 
are  to  be  found  in  the  whole  history  of  philosophy,  are  by  Hamilton  reduced  to  five  groups,  underlying 
each  of  which  is  a  single  fundamental  principle.  The  first  of  them  is,  that  an  act  of  cognition  is  an  act 
of  the  mind  ;  and  to  suppose  that  the  mind  should  know  that  which  is  not  itself,  is  to  suppose  that  it 
can  go  out  of  itself.  To  this  it  is  replied :  1.  That  if  we  cannot  explain  how  it  is  possible  that  the  mind 
should  act  on  that  which  is  not  itself,  it  does  not  follow  that  it  cannot  be  a  fact.  The  fact  may  be 
ultimate,  and  for  this  reason  inexplicable.  2.  The  principle  proves  too  much,  for  it  will  involve  the 
inference  that  the  mind  cannot  act  upon  matter,  as  it  manifestly  does  in  volition.  3.  Moreover,  it  wiU 
carry  with  itself  the  consequence  that  matter  cannot  act  out  of  itself  upon  the  mind,  and  of  course  can- 
not produce  a  representative  image  of  the  object. 

Tho  second  reason  is,  that  mind  and  matter  are  substances  not  only  of  a  different,  but  of  the  most 
opposite  natures.  "What  knows  immediately,  must  be  of  a  nature  corresponding  or  analogous  to  that 
which  is  known  ;  the  mind  cannot,  therefore,  know  matter  directly  ;  an  intermediate  something  must  be 
Interposed.  This  reason  is  of  the  widest  prevalence,  and  underlies  thnost  every  theory  of  representative 
perception.  It  accounts  for  the  great  variety  of  interposed  media  which  have  been  suggested  by  both 
ancients  and  moderns.  When  this  medium  has  been  akin  to  the  mind,  it  has  given  the  intentional 
tpecies  of  the  schoolmen,  or  the  ideas  of  Malebranche  and  Berkeley.  When  it  has  been  supposed  to  be 
identical  with  the  mind,  it  has  given  the  gnostic  reasons  of  the  Platonists,  the  preexisting  species  of 
Avioenna,  the  ideas  of  Descartes,  Arnauld,  Leibnitz,  Buffon,  and  Condillac,  the  phenomena  of  Kant,  the 
t xlernal  states  of  Dr.  Brown.  To  the  influence  of  this  assumption,  are  to  be  traced  the  systems  of  the 
absolute  identity  of  rnind  andmatter,  of  exclusive  materialism  on  the  one  hand,  or  of  spiritual  idealism 
on  the  other. 

This  grand  assumption  is  to  be  rejected  as  arbitrary,  unphilosophical,  and  contradictory  to  ou» 
plain  experience. 

The  third  reason  for  this  hypothesis  is,  that  the  mind  can  only  know  that  to  which  it  is  immedi- 
ately present.  External  objects  can  hence  be  brought  within  reach  of  the  mind  only  by  means  of  some 
representation  intermediate.  The  proper  answer  to  this  reason  is,  that  the  mind  is  present  in  eveiy 
part  of  the  body  so  far  as  to  act  and  to  be  acted  upon,  and  that  the  real  object  of  immediate  percep- 
tion is  some  part  of  the  body  as  excited  to  a  specific  sensation.  The  correct  view  of  the  relation  of  the 
soul  to  the  body,  and  of  what  is  the  real  object  of  the  mind's  external  perception,  sets  aside  this  third 
reason. 

Reid  and  Stewart  attempt  to  set  it  aside  by  a  failure  to  conceive  these  points  rightly,  and  they 
require  some  agency  of  the  Deity,  and  an  inexplicable  connection  between  the  sensation  and  perception, 
which  is  unphiloBophieal  and  unsatisfactory. 

The  fourth  ground  is  stated  by  Hume,  that  the  same  object,  as  a  table,  at  different  distances  changes 
Its  dimensions,  but  the  object  itself  does  not  change;  therefore  the  object  must  be  apprehended  by  an 
Intermediate  and  changing  representation.  To  this  it  is  answered,  that  the  same  table  is  not  perceived, 
so  far  ag  vision  is  concerned,  when  near  and  remote,  but  a  different  object  in  each  case  is  the  immediate 
object  of  sense-perception. 

The  fifth  reason  stated  by  the  elder  Fichte  is,  that,  as  the  will  must  act  in  view  of  intelligent  objects, 
these  must  be  within  the  mind ;  so  far  then  as  it  acts  in  respect  to  material  objects,  these  must  he 
represented  in  the  mind. 

To  this  it  may  be  replied,  that  the  act  of  intelligence  is  in  the  mind,  and  that  is  all  which  is  required 
M  the  condition  of  the  act  of  will.  Besides,  the  act  of  the  will  respects  fnture  result*,  which  must  neoes- 


240  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  207. 

fcarily  be  mediately  represented.    It  IB  not  denied  that  the  mind  is  capable  of  mediate  knowledge.    The 
question  at  issue  is,  M'hether  the  act  of  sense-perception  is  an  act  of  this  kind. 

After  having  shown  that  this  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception  is  unnecessary,  Hamilton 
shows  at  length  that  it  does  not  stand  the  tests  by  which  every  legitimate  hypothesis  may  properly  be 
tried.  These  conditions  are  :  (1.)  That  it  be  necessary,  and  be  more  intelligible  than  the  fact  which  it 
explains.  (2.)  That  it  shall  not  subvert  that  which  it  proposes  to  explain,  or  the  ground  on  which  It 
rests.  (3.)  That  the  facts  in  explanation  of  which  it  is  devised  really  exist,  and  are  not  themselves  hy- 
pothetical. (4.)  That  it  does  not  subvert  the  phenomena  which  it  seeks  to  account  for.  (5.)  That  tie 
fact  which  it  seeks  to  explain  must  be  within  the  sphere  of  experience.  (6.)  That  it  works  natural. y 
and  simply.  The  hypothesis  of  representative  perception  fails  to  answer  to  any  of  these  conditions,  ar/i 
must  therefore  be  rejected  by  every  true  philosopher.  The  Works  of  Thomas  Reid,  D.D.,  etc.,  etc. 
Preface,  Notes,  and  Supplementary  Dissertations,  by  Sir  William  Hamilton,  Bart.,  Edinburgh,  1846  ;  Lee 
tures  on  Metaphysics,  etc.,  etc.,  Vols.  I.  and  II ,  London,  1858 ;  Am.  Ed.,  vol.  I.,  Boston.  Gould  &  Lincoln 
1859;  Discussions,  etc.,  etc.,  London,  1852;  An  Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  °tc 
etc.,  London,  1865;  Am.  Ed.,  2  Vols.,  Boston,  1866. 

§  207.    If  we  pass  from  the  schools  of  Great  Britain  to  those  of  France,  Condillac  a 

once  attracts  our  attention,  for  the  interpretation  which  he  gave  to  the  principles  of 

B    1715-1780'         Locke,  as  well  as  for  the  special  theory  which  he  formed  of  the  sense-perceptions.    In 

his  treatise  on  the  Origin  of  Knowledge,  1746,  he  recognises  sensation  alone  as  the  one 

source  of  onr  ideas.    He  leaves  out  of  view  reflection,  and  resolves  all  our  spiritual 

ideas  into  sensations,  as  rendered  more  energetic  by  attention,  and  as  recalled  by  the  memory  under  the 

laws  of  association.    In  his  Treatise  on  The  Sensations,  1754,  he  gives  a  subtle  analysis  of  the  operation 

of  the  several  senses  as  acting  singly  and  in  combination.    His  Logic  deserves  also  to  be  consulted  foi 

careful  and  precise  definitions  of  the  several  acts  of  knowledge.    But,  the  Traite  cles  Sensations  is  re- 

markable  for  its  ingenuity  and  its  consistency,  as  well  as  for  its  oversight  of  some  of  the  most  important 

elements  in  the  phenomena  which  the  sense-perceptions  involve.    The  doctrines  of  Condillac  anticipate 

many  of  the  views  of  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  of  the  school  of  Herbarfc,  as  well  as  those  of  the  modern 

Cerebralists.    Those  most  distinctive  are  the  following  : 

1.  The  mind  is  passive  in  the  acquisition  of  its  sensations,  because  the  cause  which  produces  them, 
Is  from  without ;  when  these  are  recalled,  it  is  active,  because  their  reproduction  is  owing  to  a  cause 
within,  viz. ;  the  memory.    In  neither  case  is  the  mind  conscious  of  effort.    It  knows  only  the  different 
quality  of  its  sensations.    A  strong  sensation  is  ordinarily  from  a  real  object,  a  weaker  one  is  recalled  by 
the  memory.     All  the  conceptions  which  Condillac  expresses  concerning  the  sensations,  are  in  entire 
consistency  with  this  view.    The  human  being  is  represented  ns  a  statue  to  which  the  several  senses  are 
supposed  to  be  imparted  or  at  least  the  capacities  for  experiencing  them,  beginning  with  smell  and  end- 
ing with  touch.    Each  of  these  sensations  is  a  purely  subjective  experience,  indicating  at  first  not  even 
the  ego  which  is  the  subject  of  them,  much  less  the  existence  of  the  body,  or  the  relations  of  extension 
or  externality.    The  senses  of  touch  and  of  sight  are  as  entirely  spiritual  as  the  others  ;  single  sensa- 
tions of  each  suggesting  neither  time,  extension,  nor  externality.     (Traill  d.  S'.,  p.  1.  c.  ii.  §  11.) 

2.  The  modifications  of  the  soul  from  present  objects  are  sensations  ;  the  same,  when  recalled  by  the 
memory,  are  ideas.    All  ideas  are  simply  reproduced  or  transformed  sensations.     A  single  sensation 
occupying  the  soul  exclusively  is  a  state  of  attention.    Two  sensations  or  ideas  experienced  together 
constitute  comparson,  and  comparison  involves  judgment  or  the  sensation  of  difference  or  likeness. 
But  in  attention,  memory,  comparison,  or  judgment,  there  is  nothing  required  but  the  coming  and  going 
of  sensations  and  ideas  under  the  stimulus  of  association.     All  these,  usually  conceived  as  activities  of 
the  soul,  proceeding  from  and  referred  to  the  personal  self,  are  no  more  nor  less  than  simple  states  of 
existence  that  are  pleasant  or  painful,  involving  necessarily  no  reference  to  the  subject  of  them  by  him- 
self, or  to  an  object  not  himself. 

3.  The  knowledge  of  extension  arises  on  occasion  of  the  sensations  of  touch.    Several  sensations  are 
experienced  at  the  same  time,  as  in  the  head,  the  fingers,  tho  stomach,  and  the  feet.    The  soul  cannot 
expeiience  them  distinctly,  1.  e.  attentively,  together,  without  separating  them  one  from  another— t.  e., 
without  viewing  them  apart,  or  as  occupying  space.    But  this  feeling  of  extension  is  only  vague,  and 
without  involving  either  the  knowledge  of  any  thing  material,  or  of  the  measures  of  space.    (Traitt,  d.  S. 
J>.  1,  c.  iii.  §§  1,  2. 

4.  Body  and  matter  are  discovered  by  the  application  of  the  hands  to  the  surface  of  one's  own  body, 
coupled  with  the  experience  of  sensations  within  this  surface.    In  this  way  the  soul  learns  its  own  body, 
which  is  nothing  but  certain  sensations  of  touch,  bounded  by  others.    Having  learned  its  own  body;  it 
learns  other  bodies—/,  e.,  material  things.    By  moving  its  arms,  and  not  finding  objects  within  its  reach, 
it  gains  its  knowledge  of  space  as  distinguished  from  the  extended  objects  which  occupy  it. 

Material  objects  are  simply  collections  of  sensations,  qualities  being  sensations  only.  The  exter.ded 
aensations  of  touch, or  the  sens.-itions  of  touch  conceived  as  extended,  form  the  substance  with  wh'cb  tha 
other  sensations  are  connected  as  qualities.  Timeia  but  a  series  of  consecutive  sensations  along  which  the 
memory  passes  with  ease  by  a  ready  association. 

The  Theory  of  Condillac  is  a  theory  that  rerogniees  sensations  only,  and  does  not  provide  fa-  th« 


§209.  THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  241 

knowledge  of  the  ego,  or  the  non-ego,  or  for  the  apprehension  of  space  or  time.  All  the  professed 
explanations  of  the  origin  of  these  conceptions,  or  of  the  time  when,  or  manner  in.  which  they  are  gained 
by  the  mind,  are  inconsistent  with  Condillac's  fundamental  principles.  The  principles  of  his  theory 
provide  only  for  sensations,  passing  and  repassing  through  the  mind  as  shadows  come  and  go  over  a 
field,  and  they  exclude  even  the  possibility  of  consciousness,  much  more  of  perception  as  acts  of  proper 
knowledge. 

The  theory  of  Condillac  was  that  generally  accepted  in  France  for  nearly  three  quarters  of  a  century, 
till  the  beginnings  of  a  better  system,  under  Laromiguiere,  Royer-Collard  and  Maine  de 
Biran. 

>        §  2j°8'    LaromiSuier6  delivered  lectures  on  philosophy  in  1811  and  1812,  in  which,  while 
seeming  to  supply  certain  defects  in  Condillac,  he  taught  principles  that  were  entirely 
inconsistent  with  bis  system.     (Legons  de  Philosophie  sur  les  principes  de  fintdLi- 
gence,  etc.    Paris,  1826.) 

First  of  all,  he  asserted  the  activity  of  the  soul  in  the  acquisition  of  all  its  knowledge.  In  sensation, 
tie  held  that  the  mind  is  passive.  But  in  acquiring  knowledge  by  sensation,  the  soul  is  both  active  and 
passive,  it  being  passive  as  sense  and  active  as  the  understanding.  The  understanding  is  the  common 
appellation  for  the  three  faculties  of  attention,  comparison,  and  reasoning.  Attention  is  always  required 
in  any  act  of  sense-perception.  Comparison  and  reasoning  are  necessary  for  many  of  the  more  com- 
plicated objects.  The  acts  and  ideas  of  sense-perception  are  the  joint  product  of  the  sense  and  under- 
standing. 

Laromiguiere  does  not  discuss  in  detail  the  special  conceptions  or  relations  of  extension  and  of 
externality,  and,  indeed,  rather  furnishes  materials  for  a  theory,  than  actually  applies  them. 

§  209.  This  distinguished  philosopher  and  publicist  exerted  a  far  more  powerful 
influence  than  Laromiguiere  on  the  theory  of  sense-perception,  as  he  also  did  upon 
speculative  philosophy.  His  lectures  were  delivered  in  the  same  years  with  those  of 
his  associate,  and  portions  of  them  were  published  by  Jouflroy  in  connection  with  hi? 
translation  into  French  of  the  works  of  Reid.  This  was  eminently  appropriate, 
inasmuch  as  his  theory  was  suggested  and  matured  under  the  impulse  given  by  the  perusal  of  Reid1? 
Essays.  It  is  in  effect  the  same  theory  in  its  principles,  only  more  exact  and  complete  in  its  details. 
The  additions  which  he  made  to  it  are  similar  to  those  which  were  suggested  by  Dugald  Stewart,  at  a 
eoinewhat  later  period,  but  without  the  knowledge  that  Collard  had  made  those  which  were  similar. 
The  contributions  of  Collard  are,  however,  more  in  the  spirit  of  a  profound  and  exhausting  system  than 
those  proposed  by  Stewart.  The  chief  points  made  by  him  are  as  follows  : 

1.  He  distinguishes  sensation  and  perception  in  the  same  manner,  and  with  no  greater  exactneea 
than  Reid  and  Stewart.    Sensation  is  co-extensive  with  all  the  senses,  but  perception  is  rentricted  to 
sight  and  touch — preeminently  to  touch. 

2.  In  perception  by  touch  we  kuow  impenetrability  and  extension,  or  a  solid  and  extended  some- 
thing. But  this  is  not  all  that  we  kuow.  "We  proceed  to  affirm  them  as  qualities  or  attributes  of  a  substance 
which  is  not  ourselves.    In  the  sensation  occasioned  by  a  hard  body,  I  am  affected  in  a  particular 
manner.    This  is  the  sensation  ;  and  I  at  once  refer  this  to  a  something  different  from  myself.     But  I 
do  more:  I  confidently  believe  that  this  something  existed  before  I  touched  it,  and  that  it  will  exist 
afterward.    I  enlarge  my  knowledge  still  more  ;  I  believe  that  this  enduring  something  is  the  cause  of 
those  modifications  called  sensations.    My  perception  involves,  therefore,  the  relations  of  externality,  of 
substance,  of  duration,  and  of  causality. 

3.  These  conceptions  or  relations  are  attributed  to  the  external  world  by  a  process  termed  induction, 
or  natural  induction.    This  term  is  substituted  for  the  suggestion  of  Reid,  and  the  propriety  of  using  it  ia 
explained  and  justified  by  the  analysis  given  of  the  process  itself.    For,  according  to  Collard,  it  is  in 
some  sort  a  process,  and  not  a  simple  intuition,  such  as  Reid  would  make  it  to  be.    The  intellect 
proceeds  on  this  wise.   It  observes  by  consciousness  what  happens  to  itself.    It  is  conscious  of  its  own 
states  as  modifications  of  its  own  ego,  or,  in  other  words,  it  knows  the  relation  of  attributes  to  substance 
to  be  true  of  itself.     In  like  manner  it  knows  itself  to  continue  to  exist,  and  thus  is  aware  of  itself  as 
enduring.    Moreover,  it  knows  itself  to  be  the  cause  of  its  own  actions.    Finding  these  relations  of 
substance,  duration,  and  causation  in  its  own  inner  experience,  it  transfers  them  to  objects  without,  by 
what  Collard  calls  induction;  which  is  not,  however,  founded  on  probable  evidence,  or  conducted  by 
analogy,  but  necessary  and  original  to  the  soul. 

4.  In  a  way  similar  to  that  in  which  unlimited  and  necessary  duration  is  affirmed  on  occasion  of  the 
experience  of  limited  time,  we  pass  from  the  limited  extension  of  which  we  are  cognizant  by  touch  to 
unlimited  and  necessarily  existing  space.    This  also  is  by  induction. 

It  is  not  till  external  objects  are  thus  known  in  all  these  relations  of  substance,  space,  time,  and 
causality,  that  perception  is  accomplished. 

5  The  reference  of  those  qualities  which  are  thus  known  by  conscious  modifications  and  relation* 
of  the  soul  itself,  to  the  objects  which  have  been  previously  perceived,  is  a  subsequent  process,  and  henca 
these  qualities  are  said  to  be  §econdary,  while  the  others  are  called  primary.  Whether  color  is  a  primary 
»r  secondary  quality,  Collard  does  not  discuss  nor  decide. 

16 


242  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §210, 

§  21C»  This  profound  and  noble  thinker  was  Intimately  associated  with  Collard  in 
1811-'12— years  60  memorable  for  the  dawning  of  a  better  philosophy  in  France.  He 
JU8t]y  deserves  to  be  called  the  most  profound  and  original  French  metaphysician  of 
the  present  century.  He  made  some  important  contributions  to  a  better  theory  of 
sense-perception. 

1.  He  boldly  asserted  and  successfully  defended  the  activity  of  the  mind  in  sense-perception.    It 
was  the  central  doctrine  of  his  philosophical  system,  that  the  mind  knows  itself  as  an  agent  or  cause. 
To  the  vindication  and  inculcation  of  this  truth  he  devoted  his  chief  energies,  and  for  the  original  and 
independent  manner  in  which  he  reached  this  position  for  himself,  and  developed  it  to  others,  he  merits 
the  honors  of  a  discoverer  and  an  eminent  philosopher.    In  sense-perception,  he  held  that  the  ir  ind  is  as 
truly  active  as  it  is  passive ;  and  it  is  by  distinguishing  between  its  passive  reception  and  its  active 
exertion  that  we  are  enabled  to  explain  the  various  phenomena  which  require  solution.    The  mind 
knows  itself  as  an  individual  cause  or  agent.    This  knowledge  is  distinct  from  that  which  it  has  of  itself 
as  a  substance,  as  well  as  from  its  knowledge  of  substance  in  general.    We  begin  with  this  as  a  datum. 
We  know  this  fact  by  inner  experience.     We  exercise  individual  force  in  individual  activities.     We  know 
this  fact  best  and  most  certainly  of  all  facts,  and  we  constantly  employ  and  imply  it  in  all  our  other 
knowledge. 

2.  He  made  great  advances  toward  a  correct  view  of  the  physiological  conditions  of  sense-percep- 
tion.   The  element  furnished  by  these  conditions,  he  sharply  distinguished  from  that  contributed  by  the 
mental  or  psychical  agent     His  physiological  views  are  far  more  profound  than  those  of  Descartes.    He 
is  preeminent  above  Locke,  Reid,  Stewart,  Brown,  and  Collard,  in  conceding  to  physiology  all  the  share 
of  influence  which  it  can  reasonably  claim  in  the  phenomena  of  life  and  sensation,  while  he  asserts  for 
tho  intelligent  soul  a  distinct  and  appropriate  energy. 

He  insists,  with  emphasis,  on  the  reality  and  importance  of  the  purely  vital  functions  ;  on  the  action 
and  reaction  which  the  appropriate  vital  stimuli  produce  and  excite,  in  sustaining  and  furthering  the 
life  of  the  body.  He  recognizes  also  all  the  physiological  conditions  of  sensation,  and  their  capacity  to 
affect  the  mind  with  more  or  less  energy,  and  to  be  affected  and  directed  by  the  mind's  own  active  intel- 
ligence. In  the  writings  of  Maine  de  Biran,  physiology  first  receives  proper  recognition  and  due  honor, 
•without  being  suffered  to  encroach  upon  the  limits  of  psychology.  Whether  or  not  his  views  of  physi- 
ology would  all  be  accepted,  those  which  are  most  essential  are  well-founded,  and  for  the  first  time  find 
their  just  recognition  in  the  philosophy  of  sense-perception. 

3.  He  distinguishes  and  accounts  for  the  origin  of  the  two  relations  of  externality  which  are  involved 
in  sense-perception.  The  diversity  of  the  organism  from  the  spirit  or  ego  is  given  by  the  manifest  dis- 
tinction recognized  by  the  mind  between  the  affections  of  its  own  causative  energy  and  those  of  the 
organism  which  often  resist  this  energy  and  stimulate  it  to  reaction.  The  exteriority  of  material  objects  to 
the  animated  or  ensouled  body  is  discerned  through  the  muscular  effort  which  the  active  soul  is  capable 
of  employing,  and  to  which  it  is  stimulated  by  the  reflex  activities  of  the  body  itself.  This  muscular 
effort  tending  toward,  or  productive  of  effects  as  directed  by  the  intelligent  and  active  ego,  is  resisted  by 
other  agents  than  the  organism  which  it  animates  and  controls.  The  mind  attributes  this  resistance  to 
anotner  cause  than  itself,  by  actual  induction,  or  by  the  analogy  of  its  own  experiences,  transferred  to 
objects  in  space  other  than  the  man  himself  (Hamilton,  Works  of  Reid,  note  D). 

The  mind  knows  itself  not  only  as  a  cause,  but  as  a  permanent  cause.  Through  this,  or  in  connec- 
tion with  this,  is  given  the  apprehension  of  lime.  The  knowledge  of  the  organism  with  which  the  B«ml 
is  connected,  gives  or  occasions  the  belief  in  space.  How,  or  by  what  process,  Maine  de  Biran  does  not 
explain.  He  simply  asserts  the  fact.  He  attempts  no  solution  of  the  accompanying  belief  that  botb 
space  and  time  are  unlimited. 

4.  He  made  more  subtle  and  precise  the  distinction  between  sensation  and  perception.  The  numan 
being,  as  body  and  soul,  comprehends  what  may  be  distinguished  as  four  distinct  systems:  the  affective, 
the  sensitive,  the  perceptive,  and  the  reflective.  The  affective  system  includes  those  bodily  capacities  of 
being  affected  and  of  counter  action,  which  are  essential  to  the  functions  of  life  and  of  health  ;  many  of 
which,  through  the  intimate  connection  between  the  vital  organs  and  the  organs  of  sense,  exert  an  indi- 
rect but  a  most  powerful  influence  over  the  sensations  themselves.  Thus  the  various  causes  of  a  given 
condition  of  the  brain  or  stomach  or  nerves,  which  in  their  operation  and  effect  are  wholly  beyond  the 
range  of  our  sensitive  appreciation,  may  directly  or  indirectly  bring  the  organs  of  sense-proper,  or  these 
very  organs  when  they  become  sentient,  into  a  condition  involving  special  sensations  of  pleasure  or  pain, 
or  one  modifying  the  quality  or  intensity  of  these  sensations. 

The  sensitive  system  is  the  capacity  to  be  pleasurably  or  painfully  affected  by  the  soul  as  connected 
with  the  extended  organism,  either  by  simple  reception  of  a  stimulus,  or  the  counter  action  to  which  the 
stimulus  excites.  As  the  sensation  is  always  pleasurable  or  painful,  it  is  attended  with  some  reference 
by  the  subject  of  it,  to  the  ego  which  enjoys  or  suffers.  But  this  maybe  the  most  indefinite  possiblt, 
and,  so  far  as  it  is  simple  sensation,  it  involves  the  vaguest  knowledge  of  the  ego— knowledge  so  vague, 
fhat  the  individual  is  not  distinguished  as  an  individual — nor  is  it  separated  from  the  extended  organism 
wfth  which  it  is  united.  Into  this  state  we  tend  to  sink  back  when  we  fall  into  faintness  or  sleep,  or 
delirium  renders  us  incapable  of  definite  knowledge  or  the  assertion  of  individual  energy  in  the 


§211.  THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  243 

conti  ol  and  direction  of  the  organic  self.  These  sensation?,  and  this  sensational  life,  have  laws  of  theif 
own,  according  to  which  every  sensation  experienced  leaves  an  influence,  partly  affective,  in  the  body 
only,  partly  sensational  in  the  sensory,  predisposing  both  to  act  again  with  more  readiness  in  response  ta 
the  approprate  stimuli,  and  laying  the  foundation  for  greater  ease  in  repeated  and  habitual  action,  as  well 
is  for  the  return  of  associated  sensations  in  dreaming  and  delirium.  The  lowest  form  in  which  the  sen 
sational  life  is  manifest,  is  in  the  so-called  latent  or  dream  sensations.  None  of  these  are  wholly  unre- 
lated to  the  ego,  but  they  are  known  only  by  the  feeblest  and  the  most  passive  cognition. 

The  perceptive  system  begins  its  activity  when  the  active  ego  knows  and  directs  itself  as  a  cause, 
By  this  criterion  it  distinguishes  itself  from  its  passive  affections,  makes  definite  arid  distinct  its  sensa 
tions  in  the  different  parts  of  the  organism,  and  refers  them  to  organs.  It  also  distinguishes  external 
objects  from  the  organism,  fixes  them  as  beings  in  their  places  in  the  external  world,  and  assigns  their 
activities,  as  well  as  its  own,  to  their  positions  in  the  series  of  time. 

These  two  elements — the  sens:tive  and  the  perceptive — are  combined  so  closely  in  our  actual  expe- 
rience, that  we  do  not  distinguish  them  from  one  another.  Each  element  acts  also  with  varied  intensity, 
so  that  we  are  capable  of  conditions  varying  from  the  purest  and  most  passive  animal  sensation  in  which 
there  is  scarcely  the  smallest  ray  of  intellectual  activity,  to  that  of  the  purest  and  most  spiritual  intel- 
ligence in  which  scarce  a  vestige  of  sensation  remains. 

It  is  easy  to  see  how,  from  these  fundamental  data,  De  Biran  would  evolve  the  distinction  between 
the  primary  and  the  secondary  qualities  of  matter.  Those  properties  which  are  referred  to  their  external 
causes  or  objects  by  direct  and  necessary  cognition,  are  the  primary  qualities.  Those  which  are  indi- 
rectly, and  by  a  secondary  act  of  reflection,  referred  to  those  agents  or  causes  which  have  already  been 
defined  and  determined,  are  secondary. 

These  views  of  M.  de  Biran  produced  a  powerful  influence  upon  the  French  philosophers  of  his  own 
and  of  the  succeeding  generation.  Where  they  were  not  accepted  and  reasserted  in  their  detail,  they 
were  in  their  principles  and  most  important  results.  Cousin  devotes  but  little  attention  to  any  psycho- 
logical analysis  of  sense-perception.  He  is  chiefly  occupied  with  the  more  comprehensive  relations  of 
speculative  philosophy.  He  has  taken  into  his  system  a  single  feature  of  De  Biran's  theory  of  the  per- 
ception of  externality.  Jouffroy  did  little  more  than  apply  the  results  reached  by  De  Biran  in  the  sharp 
and  well-sustained  distinctions  which  he  drew  between  physiology  and  psychology. 

§  211.  In  Germany,  Leibnitz  is  the  earliest  writer  who  attracts  our  attention.  He  waa 
Leibnitz  Q-  W  m°r6  °f  a  mptaPnV8ician  than  psychologist ;  and  yet  he  contributed  some  important 
1646-1716.  '  '  hints  to  the  theory  of  sense-perception,  which  have  been  worked  out  and  applied  by  the 
modern  school  of  Herbart.  His  follower,  Christian  Wolf,  wrought  out  his  principles 
into  a  system  of  psycho'ogy,  in  which  the  definitions  are  very  exact,  and  the  doctrines 
of  his  master  are  rigorously  and  consistent!}'  developed  and  applied.  "We  have  already  noticed  the  doc- 
trine of  apreestablished  harmony  between  certain  states  of  the  body  and  the  corresponding  affections  of 
the  mind,  which  Leibnitz  urges,  to  avoid  the  doctrine  of  occasional  causes,  or  of  the  constant  interference 
of  the  Deity  in  every  perceptive  act.  The  doctrines  of  Leibnitz,  in  respect  to  sense-perception,  are  in 
his  Nouveaux  Essais,  Theodicee.  and  Monadologie.  Those  of  Wolf  are  given  in  the  Psychologia  Em- 
pirica  and  Psychologia  Rationalis.  Frankfort  and  Leipzig,  1732  and  1734. 

The  peculiar  doctrines  of  this  school  may  be  stated  under  the  following  heads  : 

1.  Definitions  of  sensation  and  perception.    Sensation  is  the  power  or  faculty  of  perceiving  external 
objects  by  means  of  the  changes  which  they  produce  in  the  corresponding  or  appropriate  organs  of  the 
body.    Perception  is  the  power  which  the  mind  has  of  representing  any  object  to  itself.    Sensation  and 
perception  are  distinguished  as  a  generic  and  specific  kind  of  knowing.    By  the  one,  the  mind  knows  or 
represents  any  objects  whatever.    By  sensation,  it  knows  objects  by  means  of  changes  effected  or  indi- 
cated in  the  bodily  organs.    These  significations  are  those  to  which  these  terms  are  limited.    The  con- 
ceptions appropriated  to  the  two  terms  are  not  clearly,  certainly  they  are  not  forcibly  distinguished. 
Indeed,  there  is  scarcely  a  trace  to  be  found  of  the  conception  of  sensation  as  the  pleasurable  or  pain- 
ful subjective  affection  of  the  soul  which  conditioflates  perception.    This  is  entirely  consistent  with  the 
general  doctrines  of  Leibnitz.    The  function  of  feeling  in  general,  and  the  several  kinds  of  feelii  g  in 
particular,  were  all  resolved  by  Leibnitz  and  Wolf  into  different  sorts  of  perception  or  representations  by 
the  mind.    Cf.  Nouveaux  Essais,  B.  ii.  c.  viii.  §  15,  for  the  remarks  respecting  the  resemblance  or  corre- 
spondence between  pain  and  the  motions  of  a  pricking  pin.     Appetite— 1  e.,  conative  feeling—is  the 
tendency  in  the  monad,  of  one  perception  to  another. 

2.  The  act  of  perception  is  representative,  and  the  result  is  a  representative  idea.    This  is  a  special 
application  of  Leibnitz's  doctrine  of  monads.     According  to  this  doctrine,  the  universe  of  matter  and 
epirit  consists  of  monads,  or  ultimate  particles,  each  endowed  with  a  power  to  represent,  or  respond  tc 
every  other  monad,  in  accordance  with  ita  individual  nature.    Material  things  or  objects,  as  we  cai. 
them,  consist  of  a  number  of  these  conjoined.    A  spirit  is  a  single  monad,  of  far  higher  powers  to  repre- 
sent than  the  monads  which  are  material.    "What  Leibnitz  intended  by  the  word  to  represent,  is  not  easy 
to  decide;  and  it  seems  necessary  to  believe  that  be  intended  by  it  to  signify  only,  to  be  affected  by,  tfl 
»ct,  and  to  react,  to  have  a  relation  to.    Cf.  Nouv.  IBts.,  B.  ii.  c.  8,  §15.    "  De  la  ressemblance  re   -tp 
?ort  exact,"  etc. 


244  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

In  accordance  with  this  general  definition,  an  act  of  knowledge  or  perception  Is  deined  *o  be  th< 
representation  as  one,  of  that  which  is  manifold  or  composite.  The  soul  by  reason  cf  its  superior  natur^ 
has  the  power  to  represent  or  reflect  as  one  or  as  a  whole,  the  composite  material  universe,  more  or  lesi 
perfectly.  Portions  of  the  same  it  can  do  with  a  still  greater  degree  of  perfection—*,  e.,  such  as  are  near 
and  strongly  affect  the  organs  of  sense. 

By  perception,  we  gain  sensuous  ideas.  These  represent  to  us  only  figure  and  size,  situation  and 
motion.  It  would  seem  from  this  that  all  our  perceptions  are  of  relations  of  extension  only,  and  that  our 
peiceptions  of  color,  smell,  etc.,  might  be  resolved  in  the  final  analysis  into  the  discernments  of  different 
motions  or  positions  of  the  particles  in  the  objects,  their  medium,  the  organ  of  sense  or  the  brain.  Thia 
is  the  only  possible  construction  which  can  be  put  upon  much  of  the  language  of  Leibnitz  and  "Wolf.  If 
this  construction  is  correct,  it  is  obvious  that  they  entirely  overlooked  and  confounded  the  distinction 
between  the  conditions  of  a  sense-perception  and  the  consequent  affection  of  the  soul.  That  they  could 
have  done  so,  is  rendered  probable  by  the  circumstance  that  Locke  often  does  the  same  ;  that  multitudes 
of  physiologists  are,  at  the  present  day,  committing  this  identical  mistake  ;  and  even  those  psychologists 
who  appear  to  know  better,  are  perpetually  falling  into  it.  That  Leibnitz  should  have  done  so,  is  the  more 
probable  if  we  reflect  on  the  real  import  and  logical  tendency  of  his  doctrine  of  monads,  so  far  as  it  could 
be  used  to  explain  psychological  phenomena.  That  this  is  the  just  interpretation  of  his  views,  will  be  ob- 
vious from  the  importance  attached  by  him  to  the  distinction  between  obscure  and  distinct  perceptions. 

For  Wolf's  definition  of  idea,  see  Psych.  Emp.,  §48  •  of  a  sensuous  idea,  id.,  §  95.  For  his  doctrine 
of  representation,  see  Psych.  Rat.,§§  91,92.  "Wolfs  language  can  only  be  construed  as  teaching  the 
doctrine  of  mediate  knowledge  in  its  grossest  forms,  the  sensuous  image  being  like  the  material  image, 
and  the  material  image  like  the  material  object. 

3.  Gradation  of  Perceptions.     The  perceptions  are  clear  or  distinct,  on  the  one  hand,  and  obscure 
or  confused,  on  the  other.    Examples  of  the    latter    are  such  as  we  experience  when  we  are  giddy  or 
faint,  or  are  just  awaking  from  sleep.    Such,  in  a  greater  degree,  are  experienced  in  profound  sleep 
without  dreams. 

Our  ordinary  perceptions,  when  at  all  distinct  and  definite,  are  examples  of  the  former.  WTien  to 
this  distinct  objective  cognition,  the  mind  adds  the  distinction  of  the  ego  from  the  non-ego,  perception 
becomes  apperception.  Hence,  apperception  is  sometimes  defined  as  the  reflective  or  conscious  knowl- 
edge which  the  mind  has  of  its  own  states,  and  sometimes  as  the  knowledge  of  the  non-egu 

Every  act  of  clear  perception  is  intended  by  the  obscure  perception  of  many  objects.  Often  it  hap- 
pens that  the  obscure  or  confused  perceptions  need  only  a  slight  addition  to  render  them  distinct,  as 
'*  the  perception  of  light  or  of  color  which  we  apperceive  is  made  up  of  a  great  number  of  slight  percep 
tions  which  we  do  not  perceive  separately,  and  a  noise  which  we  perceive  but  do  not  notice  (apperceive) 
becomes  apperceptible  by  a  slight  addition."  It  is  by  the  superior  capacity  which  the  human  has  above 
the  brute-soul,  as  well  as  by  the  greater  perfection  of  its  bodily  organization,  that  his  apperceptions  are 
so  much  superior  to  theirs.  It  is  because  he  perceives  so  large  a  portion  of  the  universe  so  obscurely 
that  he  is  interior  to  the  Deity. 

The  doctrine  of  obscure  perceptions  figures  very  largely  in  the  psychology  of  Herbart,  who  also 
adopts  many  other  of  the  principles  of  Leibnitz.  M.  de  Biran  makes  a  free  use  of  his  principles,  though  inhig 
hands  they  often  serve  to  point  to  a  better  and  sounder  application,  and  as  clues  by  which  he  is  guided  to 
the  truth  of  which  they  are  but  exaggerated  and  one-sided  statements.  Hamilton  also  accepts  it  in  part, 
but  adopts  it  with  less  than  his  usual  discrimination  and  caution,  vide  Met.  Lee.  18. 

4.  Externality  and  extension.     Every  apperception  gives  the  relation  of  externality  in  the  way  ex- 
plained  under  No  3.    As  to  the  relations  of  extension  and  space,  these  can  only  be  understood  by  Leib- 
nitz's peculiar  theory  of  both  space  and  time.    Space  and  time,  in  his  view,  are  purely  relative,  and  spacu 
is  defined  as  an  order  of  coexistences,  or  as  the  relation  between  coexistent  objects.    It  must  follow  that,  as 
soon  as  two  objects  are  distinguished  by  an  act  of  apperception,  and  are  also  apprehended  as  coexistent, 
they  must  be  known  to  exist  in  space.    The  apperception  of  two  such  objects  together,  as  non  egos,  of 
course  involves  the  apperception  of  their  relation  to  one  another,  which  is  nothing  else  than  the  space 
which  the  mind  must  distinguish  from  itself. 

§  212.     Tetens,  (John  Nicholas,)  Professor  of  Philosophy  at  Kiel,  in  his  Philosophical 

Tetens  J   N       Essavs  uPon  tne  Nature  of  M*°  and  its  Development,  distinguished  himself  as  one  of  the 

1726-1807!  most  sagacious  and  profound  philosophers  which  Germany  has  produced.    In  some  very 

important  points  he  corrected  and  set  aside  the  views  that  were  received  from  Leibnita 

and  Wolf. 

His  principal  work,  which  was  the  manual  of  Kant,  is  entitled  Philosophische  Versuche  uberdie  men* 
ckliche  Natur  und  ihre  Entwickelung,  Leipzig,  1772.  Tetens  deserves  to  be  called  the  Reid  of  Germany, 
for  the  good  sense  with  which  he  thinks  and  the  clearness  with  which  he  writes.  But  he  is  far  superior 
to  Reid  (whcmhS  criticises  with  great  acuteness)  in  philosophical  learning,  as  well  as  in  the  originality, 
subtilty,  and  sagacity  of  his  thoughts. 

Tetens  vindicates  first  of  all  the  reality  of  the  distinction  between  feelings  and  cognitions,  as 
•ipaiust  Leibnitz.  He  distingu.ehes  between  the  emotions  which  are  purely  spiritual  and  the  sensations 
raich  are  bodily.  He  distinguishes  also  between  perception  as  the  cognition  cf  any  non^ego,  and  the 


§  214.  THEORIES    OF   SENSE-PERCEPTION.  245 

apperception  of  a  definitely  cognized  completed  material  object,  or  complex  of  percepts  t  &ited  in  a 
whole.  He  shows  that  perception,  in  its  lower  and  higher  forms,  involves  the  activity  of  the  judgment 
He  insists  that  the  mind,  in  all  intellectual  functions,  is  active.  All  these  were  very  important,  and  foi 
their  time  extraordinary  contributions  to  the  theory  of  perception. 

His  theory  is  at  least  questionable  in  some  points  of  detail.  While  he  distinguishes  between  sensa- 
tion and  perception,  he  at  times  makes  sensation  itself  a  kind  of  perception,  aa  when  sensation  itself  it 
described  ns  apprehensive  of  objects.  Some  of  his  language  would  seem  to  imply  this.  On  the  other  hand 
oe  distinguishes  between  the  pure  sensation  and  the  intellectual  cognition  or  consciousness  of  it,  and 
finds,  in  the  longer  or  shorter  continuance,  arid  the  more  or  less  definite  character  of  different  classes  of 
•ensations,  the  reason  why  some  are  necessarily  referred  to  external  objects  by  an  intellectual  judgment, 
and  others  seem  to  be  merely  subjective  affections.  It  is  never  the  original  sensation,  bat  its  prolongs 
tion  or  repetition,  which  leads  to  perception.  The  non  ego  of  Tetens  is  uniformly  the  not.  body,  as  con- 
trasted with  and  distinguished  from  the  embodied  spirit. 

§  213.    Kant,  the  great  metaphysician  of  Germany,  has  treated  of  sense-perception 
only  indirectly.    He  has  given  no  formal  theory  of  its  processes,  but  has  metaphysic- 
ally analyzed  its  results,  and  thus  has  indirectly  taught  a  partial  theory  of  the  power 
1724-1804.  itself  and  its  functions.      First  of  all,  he  implies  that  the  soul,  in  its  sense-perceptions, 

is  passive  or  receptive  only.  He  contrasts  the  receptivity  of  the  soul  in  sense  with  in 
activity  or  spontaneity  in  the  understanding.  He  indirectly  teaches,  by  the  assumptions  that  underlie 
his  whole  system,  that  the  process  of  sense-perception  is  not  complete  until  the  understanding,  by  the 
judging  power,  conceives  under  some  of  its  forms,  the  matter  given  by  sense.  Had  he  distinguished 
between  the  natural  judgments  which  concern  individual  things  and  their  relations,  and  the  secondary 
judgments  that  contemplate  general  conceptions,  there  could  be  little  to  object  to  in  his  theory;  but  this 
omission  is  fatal  to  its  completeness  and  its  truth.  Sense  stands  on  the  one  side  as  a  purely  passive 
receptivity  of  individual  objects,  and  the  understanding,  on  the  other,  as  active  indeed,  but  as  concerned 
with  generalized  concepts  alone. 

Of  the  relation  of  sensation  to  perception,  Kant  teaches  that  sensation  gives  the  matter,  and  per- 
ception— t.  e.,— intuition— furnishes  the  form.  The  form  essential  to  any  and  every  act  of  external 
Intuition  is  space.  All  material  objects,  so  far  as  they  are  perceived  at  all,  are  perceived  in  some  rela- 
tion to  space — that  is,  they  are  perceived  as  extended  objects.  Kant  recognizes  this  as  a  fact  of  actual 
experience.  But  the  facts  he  subjects  to  no  further  analysis,  least  of  all  does  he  examine  farther  the 
process  by  which  the  product  is  reached.  Instead  of  studying  the  fact  in  its  conditions  and  elements, 
he  seeks  to  account  for  its  possibility  and  the  trustworthiness  of  its  results,  on  the  ground  of  specula- 
tive philosophy..  For  this  reason,  his  discussion  of  space  has  an  intimate  relation  to  the  theory  of  sense- 
perception,  and  the  conclusions  which  he  reached  have  entered  into  the  discussions  of  all  physiologists 
and  psychologists  since  his  time.  This  conclusion  was,  that  space  and  time  must  be  assumed  as  the 
necessary  conditions  of  our  subjective  experience  in  both  consciousness  and  perception,  yet  we  are  not 
thereby  authorized  to  believe  in  their  objective  reality.  We  cannot,  indeed,  perceive  any  material  object 
by  means  of  the  senses  without  involving  necessary  relations  to  space  directly,  and  indirectly  to  time. 
It  does  not,  however,  follow  that  space  is  a  reality.  It  is  supposable,  though  not  to  us  conceivable,  that 
to  minds  constituted  differently  from  our  own,  the  forms,  with  the  relations  which  they  involve,  should 
not  be  necessarily  assumed.  Kritik  der  reinen  Vernunft.  EL  lehre,  ii.  Th.,  1  Abth. ;  ii.  Buch,  2, 
Hauptst.  3  Absch. 

In  respect  to  the  reality  of  external  objects,  Kant  recognizes  the  fact  in  our  psychical  experience, 
that  material  objects  are  not  only  perceived  as  extended  and  spatial,  but  also  as  external ;  or  in  other 
words,  as  non-egos.  In  sense-perception  this  distinction  is  necessarily  involved.  The  act  includes  this 
as  an  essential  element  in  the  process,  and  its  result.  It  does  not  follow,  because  the  mind  makes  this 
distinction,  that  there  is  a  reality  corresponding  to  this  non-ego.  (1  )  The  non-ego  as  a  being,  is  trans- 
cendental to  all  phenomena.  (2.)  It  is  posited  in  space  which  is  necessary  as  a  form  of  sense  but  which 
may  be  only  an  illusion.  Kant  undertakes  to  demonstrate,  on  the  ground  of  speculative  necessity, 
that  this  is  impossible.  He  contends  that  we  must  assume  that  there  is  something  permanent  and  real 
without,  in  order  to  account  for  the  changing  modifications  within.  Even  the  self,  or  ego,  is  not  experi- 
enced as  a  permanent  something.  It  is  only  concluded  to  exist  as  the  thought-conception  of  a  spiritual 
substance  with  capacities  for  spiritual  acts.  All  that  we  are  conscious  of,  are  our  changing  modifications 
kn  time.  These  can  only  be  rationally  explained  by  a  permanent  reality  which  causes  them.  Of  the 
txiittence  of  an  external  world,  we  can  be  rationally  assured,  but  of  it,  have  no  direct  perception. 

The  theory  of  sense-perception  was  discussed  by  the  successors  of  Kant  chiefly  in  its  purely 
metaphysical  relations.  In  the  writings  of  Fichte,  Schelling,  and  Hegel,  sti  1  1  ss  attention  is  given  to 
*«yohological  analysis,  metaphysical  principles  and  relations  being  almost  exclusively  discussed. 

§  214.  Herbart,  on  the  contrary,  though  holding  a  definitely-conceived  metaphysica 
system,  has  given  great  prominence  to  its  physiological  development  and  its  psycho- 
h1776-1841  **  logical  applications.  His  speculative  views  of  the  nature  of  the  soul,  of  the  elementa 
of  matter,  of  the  nature  of  knowledge  and  its  fundamental  relations,  of  space  and 
time,  etc.,  are  fully  expounded  by  him ;  but  in  connection  with  them  he  has  drawn 


246  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §216. 

out  a  developed  theory  of  the  functions  and  processes  of  the  souL    His  theory  of  sense-perception  maj 
be  briefly  stated  as  follows: 

The  soul,  though  a  simple  substance,  is  capable  of  being  excited  by  *he  action  of  various  material 
stimuli  to  various  reactions  of  its  own.  Certain  classes  of  these,  when  experienced,  are  sensations. 
A  sensation  is  the  soul's  reception  of,  or  its  reaction  against  the  material  stimulus.  The  sensation! 
differ  from  one  another  in  quality  or  kind  on  the  one  hand  and  iu  energy  or  intensity  on  the  other. 

As  the  several  sensations  are  experienced,  each  continues  to  exist  in  the  soul,  with  a  force  or  ten- 
dency to  reappear  As  soon  as  the  favoring  conditions  present  themselves,  past  sensations  do  reappear  in 
the  order  of  the  soul's  original  experience  of  them.  When  such  a  series  is  viewed  [experienced  ?]  from 
one  sensation  as  fixed  it  is  viewed  in  time  ;  and  by  the  mutual  struggles  or  tendencies  of  several  series  o) 
experienced  sensations  to  gain  possession  a  second  time  of  the  soul  without  success,  the  mind  forms  tht 
idea  of  pure  or  simple  time. 

The  apprehension  of  time  prepares  the  body  for  that  of  space.  Sensations  experienced  and  recalled 
in  the  time  series,  are  disputed  by  other  sensations  and  series  of  sensations  that  struggle  to  occupy  the 
soul.  To  provide  for  the  possibility  of  these  mutual  struggles,  and  under  the  experience  of  the  pressure 
which  they  create,  the  mind  constructs  a  conception  of  space  first  as  occupied,  and  then  as  empty  or  void. 
Thus,  time  and  space  result  to  the  mind  as  the  effects  of  mutually  blended  or  mutually  repelling 
series  of  sensations. 

When  space  and  time  are  produced,  that  which  is  next  developed  is  the  apprehension  of  the  differ- 
ence between  bodily  afl'ections  and  material  objects.  This  results  from  an  experience  of  certain  positive 
sensations,  particularly  those  of  touch  joined  with  those  of  the  muscular  sense.  A  certain  portion  of 
space  within  the  body  is  measured  in  every  direction  by  various  time-series  of  sensations,  terminated  by 
those  appropriate  to  superficial  touch.  Other  sensations  we  project  beyond  the  surface  of  the  body,  at 
greater  or  less  distances,  all  of  which  are  measured  by  successive  time-series  of  sensations,  in  experience 
or  imagination. 

Sensations  which  do  not  occur  within  the  space  of  the  body,  nor  on  its  surface,  aB  explained,  are 
projected  beyond— i.  e.,  are  apprehended  as  not  within  its  space.  This  constitutes  perception  in  the 
lowest,  or  elementary  degree.  Afterwards  are  developed  apperception,  or  the  knowledge  of  mental 
states  by  a  secondary  act  of  knowledge  ;  then  the  knowledge  of  substance  and  its  attributes  ;  then  a 
knowledge  of  material  things,  or  of  material  substances  with  material  attributes  and  space-relations. 

Herbart's  theory  of  the  sense-perceptions,  though  modified  greatly  by  his  metaphysical  theory  of 
real,  or  intelligible,— as  contrasted  with  psychological— time  and  space,  is  yet,  so  far  as  the  sense-percep- 
t'ons  are  concerned,  substantially  the  same  with  that  of  Condillac,  and  not  far  removed  from  that  of  Dr. 
Thomas  Brown,  of  Edinburgh.  His  metaphysical  theory,  being  closely  allied  to  the  monadic  doctrines 
of  Leibnitz,  is  not  in  the  least  inconsistent  with  the  purely  subjective  character  of  the  phenomena  of 
sense-perception.  This  is  only  another  example  of  the  vain  attempt  to  develop  the  perception  of  the 
objective  out  of  the  experience  of  the  subjective,  and  to  explain  the  apprehension  of  extension  and  the 
space  dimensions  by  theories  which  suppose  them  to  be  known  already. 

§  215.    This  gifted  philosopher,  theologian  and  scholar,  deserves  to  be  named  for  the 
very  important  contributions  which  he  made  to  the  theory  of  sense-perception.    These 
he     1 768-1834     were  partly  indirect,  as  he  opposed  so  decidedly  the  current  of  the  great  leaders  of 
metaphysical  speculation  in  German,  by  rejecting  many  of  the  assumptions  which  are 
fundamental  to  their  systems.    In  part,  also,  they  were  direct,  in  the  positive  doctrines 
which  he  taught  in  respect  to  the  conditions  and  nature  of  sense-perception  as  a  process.    The  relations 
of  space,  time,  substance,  and  cause,  he  held,  as  against  Kant,  to  bs  real  forms  of  things,  and  not  merely 
the  forms  of  our  apprehension  of  things.    The  reality  of  time  and  space  must  be  assumed  without  mis- 
giving or  questionings.    Being  is  directly  apprehended,  as  well  as  phenomena  and  relations.    To  all  t-ht, 
combinations  and  constructions  which  we  make  in  knowledge,  we  attribute  actual  reality.    Thought, 
which,  in  Hegel,  is  the  all  in  all,  the  originator  of  all  power  and  products  of  knowledge,  according  to 
Schleiermacher,  is  but  a  dependent  attendant  upon  sense.    In  sense-perception  there  are  two  essential 
elements  :  the  receptive,  styled  by  Schleiermacher  "  the  organic,  function,"  and  the  a  priori  or  sponta- 
neous, called  "the  intellectual  function.'"1    This  last  is  an  act  of  knowing  by  relations,  or  thought,  and,  as 
eo  defined,  Is  an  important  improvement  upon  Kant  and  Reid,  and  even  upon  Hamilton. 

Schleiermacher,  moreover,  teaches  that  the  two  elements,  the  organic  and  intellectual,  are  present 
indifferent  proportions  in  the  different  faculties  and  acts  of  sense-perception,  anticipating  in  this  tho 
law  of  Hamilton  respecting  the  inverse  proportion  of  sensation  and  perception  proper.  Cf.  DialektiJe, 
§§  307-114,  §§  118,  119,  §§  123-131;  Psychologie,  (L.  George,)  pp.  76-133. 

§216.    The  services  of  this  eminent  physiologist  ought  not  to  be  overlooked.    This 
distinguished  man  united  in  himself  a  complete  mastery  of  physiology,  the  rare  ac- 
IftOl^^fi       '         companiment  of  a  just   appreciation  of  psychological  phenomena,  and  a  competent 
acquaintance  with  speculative  philosophy.    In  his  analysis  of  the  soul  and  of  sense- 
perception,  he  assumes  the  reality  of  time  and  space.    He  eets  in  the  clearest  and  most 
convincing  light  the  truth,  that  the  sensations  are  only  varied  forms  of  idiopathic  affections  of  the 
several  sense-nerves,  which  may  be  produced  by  any  stimulus  whatever,  from  within  as  well  as  without 


§216. 


THEORIES    OF    SENSE-PERCEPTION.  247 


the  body.  These  affections  constitute  the  matter  of  sense-perceptions.  This,  in.  all  cases,  5s  apprehended 
by  the  mind  in  more  or  less  definite  relations  of  extension,  as  modifications  of  the  bodily  organism  or  the 
aensorium.  It  is  because  the  sensorium  is  extended,  that  its  affections,  when  it  is  excited  to  action,  givi 
us  the  knowledge  of  space-relations  in  material  things.  Even  the  visible  universe  is  first  seen  in  the 
retina,  as  a  picture  no  larger  than  the  extent  of  the  retina  itself.  This  is  afterwards  enlarged  and  pro- 
jected by  the  mind.  Hamilton  was  doubtless  indebted  to  Muller  for  some  of  the  most  important  sug- 
gestions toward  his  own  theory.  Of.  Muller,  Handbuch  der  Physiologic  des  Menschen,  II.  v. ;  also  th« 
same,  translated  by  William  Baly,  Lond.,  1848. 

Of  the  later,  mostly  living  German  writers,  who  have  contributed  to  the  theory  of  perception,  we 
need  name  only  :  H.  Lotze,  Medicinische  Psychologic,  etc.,  Leipzig,  1852  ;  Mikrokosmus,  3  Bde.,  Leipzig, 
1856-1864  ;  A.  Trendelenburg,  Logische  Untersuchungen,  Berlin,  1840. 1864 ;  L.  George,  Die  funf  Sinne. 
Berlin,  1846  ;  Psychologic,  Berlin,  1854  ;  H.  Ulrici,  Gott  und  die  Nalur,  Leipzig,  1862  ;  Gott  und  der 
Mfnsch,  Leipzig,  1866;  I.  H.  Fichte,  Anthropologie,  Leipzig,  1856;  Psychologic,  Leipzig,  1864;  W.  Vorl- 
ander,  G-iimdlinien  einer  organischen  Wissenschnft  der  menschlichen  Secle,  Berlin,  1841 ;  A.  Helferrich, 
Der  ore,  anismus  der  Wisienschaft,  etc.,  Leipzig,  1856;  K.  Fortlage,  System  der  Psychologic,  Leipzig,  1855; 
W.  F.  Volkmaun,  Grundriss  der  Psychologic,  Halle,  1S56;  Th.  Waitz,  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,  Braun- 
schweig, 1849  ;  M.  I.  Schleiden,  Zur  Theorie  des  Erkenntniss  durch  den  Gesichtssinn,  Leipzig,  1861  ;  G. 
Th.  Fechner,  Elements  der  Psychophysik,  Leipzig,  1860  ;  W.  Wundt,  Beitrdge  zur  Theorit  der  Sinner 
vahmeJtmung,  Leipzig,  1862;  Fr.  Uberweg,  System  der  Logik,  etc.,  Bonn,  1857. 


248  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §211 


PART    SECOND. 

REPRESENTATION  AND  REPRESENTATIVE  KNOWLEDGE. 

CHAPTER  I. 

THE    EEPKESENTATlv^E   POWER   DEFINED    AND    EXPLAINED. 

REPRESENTATION  is  exercised  after  Presentation,  and  should  be  considered  next ;  the  highei 
power  of  thought  requiring  the  development  of  both  the  other  powers.  The  power  to 
reproduce  cannot  be  employed  until  something  has  been  first  produced  which  can  be 
revived  or  recalled.  There  must  be  experience  in  sense-perception  and  consciousness 
before  material  objects  or  psychical  states  can  be  brought  back  again  by  memory  or 
imagination.  Presentation  furnishes  the  material  or  matter  for  representation.  Repre- 
sentation is  indeed  largely  mixed  with  presentation.  What  we  call  our  perceptions  and 
acts  of  consciousness,  consist  very  largely  of  remembrances  and  images.  But  although 
presentation  is  perfected  by  the  aid  of  the  representative  power,  it  is  before  it  in  the 
order  of  psychological  development. 

§  217.  Representation  or  the  representative  power  may 
ae1Fned?n  *  be  defined  in  general,  as  the  power  to  recall,  represent, 

and  reknow  objects  which  have  been  previously  known  or 
experienced  in  the  soul.  More  briefly,  it  is  the  power  to  represent  objects 
previously  presented  to  the  mind.  It  is  obvious  that  in  every  act  of  this 
power  the  objects  of  the  mind's  cognition  are  furnished  by  the  mind 
itself,  being  produced  or  created  a  second  time  by  the  mind's  own 
energy,  and  presented  to  the  mind's  own  inspection.  It  follows  that  repre- 
sentation, in  its  very  essence,  involves  a  creative  or  self-active  power. 

Thus,  I  gaze  upon  a  tree,  a  house,  or  a  mountain.  The  object  perceived  is  the  tree,  the 
house,  or  mountain,  before  my  eyes.  I  close  my  eyes,  and  *  my  mind  makes  pictures  when  my 
f.yes  are  shut.*  I  at  once  represent  or  see  with  *  my  mind's  eye  '  that  which  I  saw  just  before 
with  the  eyes  of  the  body.  One  needs  only  to  try  the  experiment  upon  the  objects  on  which 
bis  eyes  are  now  resting,  to  find  an  example  of  the  exercise  of  the  power  of  representation, 
and  to  mark  the  difference  between  its  objects  and  those  of  sense. 

My  eyes  make  pictures  when  they  are  shut. 

I  see  a  fountain,  large  arid  fair, 
A  willow,  and  a  ruined  hut.       COLERIDGE. 

My  father — methinks  I  Bee  my  father  I 
Horatio. — Oh,  where,  my  lord  ? 
Hamlet.— In  my  mind's  eye,  Horatio.      SHAKESPEARE. 

In  like  manner  we  hear  a  sound,  either  singly,  as  the  solitary  note  of  the  pigeon,  01 
leveral  sounds  in  succession,  as  the  caw,  cawr  of  the  crow,  the  roll  of  a  drum,  or  the  notes  of 


§217.         THE    REPRESENTATIVE    POWER   DEFINED   AND    EXPLAINED.  249 

a  musical  air.  Let  the  sounds  cease.  We  can  still  distinctly  recall  them,  and  seem  to  heal 
them  again  with  the  mind,  though  the  mind  makes  for  itself  all  the  sounds  which  it  seem, 
to  hear. 

In  a  similar  way  we  can  represent  the  percepts  that  are  appropriate  to  the  senses  of  touch. 
of  tasting  and  of  smell ;  reviving  the  touch,  taste,  and  smell  by  and  for  the  mind  alone. 

Music,  when  soft  voices  die, 

Vibrates  in  the  memory. 

Odors,  when  sweet  violets  sicken, 

Live  within  the  sense  they  quicken. — SHELLEY. 

We  are  not  limited  to  sensible  objects,  or  to  sense-percepts, 

Not    limited    to      .       .,  „   ,,.  jL 

sensible  objects,  in  the  exercise  oi  this  power.  We  can  as  truly  represent 
the  acts  and  the  affections  of  the  soul  itself.  Not  only  can 
we  with  the  mind's  eye  behold  the  tree  and  the  mountain  previously  seen, 
but  we  can  represent  the  act  of  the  mind  by  which  we  beheld  it,  as  also 
the  delight  which  the  sight  occasioned.  We  not  only  hear  a  musical  air 
the  second  time,  but  we  revive  again  the  idea  of  the  accompanying  pleasure 
So  it  is  with  the  relations  in  which  the  objects  were  presented  at  first 
The  objects  themselves  can  not  only  be  recalled  as  objects,  but  they  can 
be  recalled  as  related,  or  as  totals  made  up  of  the  objects  as  connected  by 
the  several  relations  under  which  they  were  originally  known.  Whether 
these  are  relations  of  space  or  time,  of  self  or  not-self;  whether  necessary 
and  permanent,  or  casual  and  changing  ;  whether  intellectual  or  emotional — 
whether  objective  or  subjective ; — whatever  we  apprehend  in  presenta- 
tion, can  be  recalled  in  representation. 

But  the  activity  of  the  mind  in  this  general  function  is  not 
pora*'  limited  to  the  power  of  representing  objects  previously 

present.  It  has  another  power  over  the  objects  of  past 
experience.  It  can  so  far  modify  them  as  to  transform  them  into  new 
creations.  It  becomes  in  this  way,  in  an  eminent  sense,  a  creative  power. 
It  can  combine  together  pictures  of  sense  and  consciousness  of  which  the 
parts  have  been  given  before,  and  on  occasion  of  such  materials  it  can 
evolve  what  are  worthy  to  be  called  new  creations.  That  the  mind  pos- 
sesses this  twofold  power,  all  are  conscious  by  the  fact  of  exercising  it. 
The  mind  not  only  can  depict  a  man,  a  tree,  or  a  mountain  as  actually 
witnessed,  but  it  can  alter  the  form,  the  dimensions,  and  the  appendages 
or  accidents  of  each,  taking  parts  from  the  one  and  attaching  them  to 
parts  belonging  to  the  other.  So,  also,  it  can  create  or  imagine  a  Lilli- 
putian, a  Centaur,  a  Parnassus,  an  Abdiel.  The  representative  power  in 
this  higher  form  is  called,  as  we  shall  see,  tie  fancy  or  the  imagination. 

In  the  exercise  of  this  power,  of  which  these  acts  are  examples,  it  ia 
obvious  that  the  mind  is  to  be  viewed  subjectively  and  objectively.  Sub- 
jectively viewed,  it  performs  acts  ;  objectively,  it  furnishes  objects  for  its 
own  subjective  apprehension.  These  objects  are  furnished  from  its  own 
previous  acts,  or  the  several  objects  appropriate  to  those  acts ;  but  when 
presented  for  the  mind's  inspection,  they  are  objects  to  its  apprehension. 


250  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §218 

Thus,  if  I  recall  a  painting  previously  seen,  my  act  in  seeing  it,  my  feel- 
ings or  choices  with  respect  to  it — the  whole,  or  any  part  of  this  complex 
activity,  becomes  an  object  to  my  present  act. 

§  218.  The  power  thus  to  act  is  called  the  representative,  in 
f°r    distinction  from,  and  in  contrast  with  the  presentative  power 

In  sense-perception  and  consciousness,  the  mind  presents  to 
itself  for  the  first  time  the  objects  of  its  direct  and  original  knowledge 
In  representation,  it  presents  these  objects  a  second  time,  or  represents 
them. 

It  is  also  called  reproduction,  or  the  reproductive  power,  because  the 
mind,  by  its  own  energy,  under  appropriate  circumstances  and  in  obe- 
dience to  certain  laws,  reproduces  objects  previously  known. 

It  also  involves  the  power  to  retain  and  conserve,  in  a  certain  sense, 
that  which  has  been  acquired  by  the  mind.  To  thin  capacity  the  name 
of  retention  has  been  given,  or  the  retentive  power.  To  these  three  dis- 
tinguishable relations  of  the  power,  Hamilton  has  not  only  assigned 
separate  appellations,  but  has  treated  them  as  separate  faculties,  viz., 
the  conservative,  reproductive,  and  representative  faculties  (Met.  Leo. 
xx.).  The  activity  of  the  mind  in  retention  and  reproduction  is  so  entirely 
out  of  consciousness,  and  so  little  can  in  any  way  be  traced  or  conjectured 
in  respect  to  it,  that  it  seems  more  philosophical  to  consider  and  treat 
retention  and  reproduction  as  the  conditions  of  representation,  rather  than 
as  distinct  faculties.  It  is  implied  in  the  power  to  represent,  that  there  is 
a  power  to  reproduce  ;  and  in  the  power  to  reproduce,  that  the  mind  can 
retain  or  conserve. 

We  have  already  (§  47)  distinguished  between  the  capacity  of  the  soul  to  provide  and 
present,  so  to  speak,  objects  for  the  soul  to  inspect  or  know,  and  the  power  and  act  of  the 
soul  to  know  or  apprehend  them  when  presented.  This  capacity  is  observable  in  all  the  soul'a 
knowing  faculties,  and  in  all  the  forms  of  its  knowledge.  But  it  is  especially  conspicuous  and 
interesting  in  the  representative  faculty.  The  process  of  furnishing  the  objects  for  the  soul's 
cognition  is  purely  psychical.  The  material  conditions  are  scarcely  worthy  to  be  considered. 
The  laws  under  which  the  objects  are  retained  and  given  up  are  spiritual.  They  are  also  very 
numerous,  complicated,  and  interesting.  It  is  owing  to  the  circumstance  that  these  processes 
are  so  peculiar  and  so  necessary,  that,  by  some  writers — as  Hamilton — a  special  faculty  has 
been  provided  of  retaining,  and  another  of  reproducing,  and  another  of  -epresenting  the 
objects  of  the  mind's  cognition  and  recognition. 

It  is  also  called  the  creative  power,  the  constructive  or  productive 
imagination,  when  it  evolves  new  products.  This  exercise  of  the  repre- 
Eentative  power  has  rarely  received  a  technical  appellation. 

The  terms  of  common  life  and  literature  which  are  applied  to  the  various 
Appellations  in  forms  of  employing  and  applying  representation  are  conception,  memory,  recol- 
common  use.  lection,  reminiscence,  fancy,  and  imagination.  But  none  of  them  are  used 

in  a  precise  signification,  so  far  even  as  the  common  needs  of  men  require. 
Much  less  will  any  admit  of  a  technical  or  philosophical  application.  Thus  conception,  which 
is  taken  by  Dugald  Stewart  to  signify  the  representation — as  act  and  object — of  seuse-per- 


§219.          THE    KEPRESENTATTVE   POWER   DEFINED    AND    EXPLAINED.  251 

cepts,  is,  both  in  common  life  and  in  philosophy,  used  to  denote  objectively  the  concept,  no 
tion,  or  general  conception,  and  subjectively  the  power  to  form  the  concept,  etc.  Again,  it 
Beems,  like  Locke's  idea,  to  be  the  common  appellation  for  any  and  every  object  of  the  mind'i 
cognition.  Fancy  and  imagination  are  used  now  in  a  narrow  sense  for  special  acts  of  th« 
representative  power,  and  again  in  the  very  widest  applications  of  this  term.  No  one  of 
these  terms  is  either  popularly  or  technically  used  to  designate  ihe  one  power  which,  as  concep- 
tion, memory,  fancy,  and  imagination,  is  exercised  under  common  conditions  and  in  conformity 
with  common  laws.  Some  technical  term  must  be  selected  and  employed,  and  none  is  more 
appropriate  than  representation,  or  the  representative  faculty. 

This  appellation,  like  many  of  those  used  in  common  life,  gives  prominence  to  the  object 
with  which  the  mind  is  occupied  in  knowing,  rather  than  to  the  act  of  the  mind  in  knowing 
it.  It  has  already  been  stated,  that  the  powers  of  the  mind  are  better  known  and  distin- 
guished by  the  objects  which  they  produce,  than  by  the  acts  through  which  they  produce 
them.  It  is  natural,  therefore,  to  name  and  define  the  powers  as  well  as  the  acts  of  the  mind 
by  or  after  the  objects  through  which  they  are  most  distinctly  manifested. 

§  210.  The  objects  of  the  representative  power  are,  as  has 

Objects    of    the     * 

representative  already  been  implied,  mental  objects.  They  are  not  real 
things  or  real  percepts,  but  the  mind's  creations  after  real 
things.  They  are  spiritual  or  psychical,  not  material  entities,  but  in  many 
cases  they  concern  material  beings,  being  psychical  transcripts  of  them 
believed  as  real  or  conceived  as  possible.  When  they  concern  the  soul 
only,  they  are  not  the  real  soul,  or  its  present  acts,  but  psychical  tran- 
scripts of  the  real  soul  in  a  past  or  possible  condition  of  action.  They 
are  in  no  sense  object-objects,  but  are  preeminently  subject-objects.  AJ 
objects,  they  are  distinguished  from  the  act  of  the  mind  which  apprehend? 
them :  as  subject-objects,  they  are  created  by  that  very  mind,  and  exist 
only  for  that  mind.  As  represented  subject-objects,  they  always  indicate 
another  reality,  whether  spiritual  or  mental.  The  starry  heavens  which  I 
see  with  the  bodily  eye,  exist  as  a  permanent  occasion  or  object  of  vision, 
whether  the  eye  is  open  or  shut,  whether  it  is  attent  or  roving.  But  the 
starry  heavens  which  I  see  with  the  eye  of  the  mind,  exist  no  longer 
than  the  beholding  mind  creates  and  upholds  it  in  being.  The  mental 
experience  which  I  recall  is  a  real  object  while  it  is  passing ;  the  same 
state  as  recalled,  is  an  object  while  it  is  recalled  and  confronted  as  having 
been  a  fact.  But  while  this  representative  object  is  preeminently  depend- 
ent on  the  mind  for  its  being,  it  is  yet  clearly  distinguished  from  the  mind 
which  regards  it,  and  from  the  feelings  with  which  it  is  known. 

But  though  the  object  of  the  representative  power  is  a 
smd  nofgeneraL  mental  object,  it  is  an  individual  object.  By  this  character- 
istic it  is  distinguished  from  a  thought-object,  or  an  object 
of  the  intelligence.  Thought-objects  are  both  mental  objects  and  subject- 
objects,  and,  in  an  important  sense,  representative-objects ;  but  they  are 
generalized  objects — they  are  universals.  Objects  of  representation  are 
like  them  in  that  they  are  purely  mental  objects,  yet  are  unlike  them  in 
being  individual.  Whether  we  recall  these  objects,  or  create  them— 


262  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  220 

whether  we  copy,  as  exactly  as  we  can,  from  an  original  in  nature,  01 
create  constructions  the  most  fantastic,  grotesque,  or  unnatural,  they  are 
all  individual.  Falstaff,  Hamlet,  Ivanhoe,  Jeannie  Deans,  Don  Quixote, 
Tarn  O'Shanter,  the  Eden  of  Milton,  the  Faery  Land  of  Spenser,  are  all 
individual  beings  in  the  imagination  that  originated,  and  the  imagination 
that  reconstructs  them  after  their  first  originator. 

When  we  speak  of  the  same  object  as  recalled  or  recreated — when  we  assert 
thesrobjects  are  that  tne  same  individual  object  comes  and  goes,  it  will,  of  course,  be  under- 
the  came.  stood  that  the  same  individual  object  exists  only  so  long  as  the  mind  keeps  it 

alive.  When,  then,  the  same  object  is  said  to  be  recalled  a  second  time,  it 
is  not  literally  the  same  individual,  but  it  is  copied  after  the  same  original, — the  same  as  revived 
or  recreated,  and  capable,  in  this  sense,  of  being  recalled  again  and  again,  though  perhaps  in 
each  case  with  individual  deviations.  For  example,  I  look  at  a  tree,  and  then  close  my  eyes 
and  picture  it  to  my  fancy.  I  do  it  again  and  again,  reproducing  what  we  call  the  same 
mental  picture  of  the  same  tree.  The  picture  is  the  same,  so  far  as  it  is  a  true  mental  copy 
of  the  same  original.  But  each  picture  is  itself  a  fresh  and  new  individual  product,  and 
therefore  a  separate  individual  object.  The  same  is  true  of  the  mental  pictures  of  what  we 
call  original  creations  of  the  fancy. 

§  220.  The  presented  object  was  known  by  the  mind  not 
voiveeiSietionl?"  only  as  a  being,  but  in  its  relations,  as  of  diversity,  space, 

time,  etc. ;  so  the  object  as  represented,  must  or  may  be 
known  again  in  all  these  relations,  with  all  those  in  addition  which  are 
implied  in  its  being  represented.  It  has  been  abundantly  established, 
that  an  object  cannot  be  known  unless  the  relations  appropriate  to  its 
kind  of  knowledge  are  known  also :  so  hi  represented  knowledge  we 
must  be  capable  of  recreating  the  objects  in  their  original  relations,  as 
well  as  of  recalling  the  so-called  objects  as  such.  It  should  be  remembered, 
however,  that  a  relation  as  such — i.  e.,  a  relation  as  separate  from  an  object — 
as  it  cannot  be  apprehended  by  sense-perception  or  consciousness,  so  it  can- 
not be  recalled  by  representation.  A  relation,  as  such,  cannot  become  an 
image  or  picture  to  the  representative  power  (cf.  §  424). 

The  representative  power,  not  only  by  the  representative  act 

Relations  pecu- 
liar to  represen-    recalls  the  object  in  the  relations  in  which  it  was  originally 
tation  itself.  ,J  „  ,,.  •         i 

known,  but  the  existence  and  exercise  of  this  power  involves 
relations  that  are  peculiar  to  itself.  Thus,  in  recalling  a  tree  or  a  horse 
previously  perceived,  or  a  mental  act  of  knowledge  or  state  of  feeling,  I 
not  only  bring  back  the  tree  or  horse  as  extended  and  external,  and  the 
psychical  state  as  subjective  and  in  time,  but,  in  recalling  it,  I  must  know 
it  as  a  subject-object,  and  as  having  been  previously  perceived  or  experienced 
by  myself.  These  relations  are  both  necessary  and  peculiar  to  the  repre- 
sentative power.  The  notice  of  them  here  is  but  an  illustration  of  the 
principle  that  hi  knowledge  of  every  kind  the  apprehension  of  some  rela- 
tions is  essential,  and  that  every  mode  of  knowledge  has  its  special 
relations. 


§221.          THE    REPRESENTATIVE    POWER    DEFINED    AND    EXPLAINED.  253 

For  the  objects  of  this  power  we  have  no  appropriate  technical  na.ne.  The 
name  for  the  ob-  exigencies  of  common  life  do  not  require  such  a  term,  and  the  nicer  distinc- 
power.  °J  '  tions  an(i  tne  8Pecial  application.^  of  philosophy  have  not  been  established 

long  and  precisely  enough  to  lead  to  the  formation  or  the  appropriation  of 
any  term  with  a  precise  and  technical  significance.  The  words  image  and  picture  might  b« 
properly  applied  to  the  represented  percepts  of  vision  ;  but  to  speak  of  the  image  of  a  sound, 
emell,  or  touch,  would  be  incongruous,  if  not  offensive.  Still  less  tolerable  would  it  be  to 
speak  of  the  image — i.  e.,  the  revived  impress  of  an  act  of  knowledge  or  feeling.  Conception 
cannot  be  accepted,  as  was  proposed  by  Stewart,  for  it  is  too  frequently  applied  to  other  and 
very  different  objects.  Idea  would  be  more  significant,  if  it  could  be  forced  back  to  ita 
original  and  etymological  import ;  but  idea  has,  since  the  time  of  Locke,  been  compelled  to  dc 
all  manner  of  service,  and  been  literally  compelled  to  signify  "  whatever  the  mind  can  b« 
occupied  about  in  thinking" — thinking  being  held  equivalent  to  every  species  of  mentaj 
activity  (cf.  Locke,  Essay,  B.  ii.  c.  viii.  §  8).  In  the  earlier  days  of  the  English  language  the 
representative  power  was  called  imagination,  or  phantasy,  and  then  images  and  phantasms 
were  appropriately  and  literally  applied  to  its  objects.  But  if  it  is  impossible  as  yet  to  find 
a  term  like  image  to  which  we  can  attach  a  precise  and  literal  signification,  it  should  ever  be 
remembered  that  the  objects  of  this  power  are  individual  objects,  as  distinguished  from  the 
concepts,  or  notions, of  thought.  But,  though  individual,  they  are  purely  mental  entities;  yet 
while  they  are  beings  of  the  mind,  they  are,  as  objects,  contrasted  with  and  distinguished  from 
the  mind  that  creates  and  beholds  them. 

Conditions  and  §  221.  The  conditions  and  laws  of  the  representing  power 
tatlon  recons!d-  should  next  be  considered.  The  mind,  in  representation,  as 
in  the  exercise  of  all  its  powers,  acts  under  limitations  and 
according  to  laws.  That  it  can  perform  certain  operations  and  evolve 
certain  products,  is  to  be  explained  only  by  asserting  that  it  is  endowed 
with,  or  finds  itself  possessed  of  a  capacity  to  act  in  this  or  that  manner, 
and  to  originate  the  appropriate  products  or  results.  Thus  the  mind  finds 
itself,  so  to  speak,  actually  perceiving,  remembering,  imagining,  and 
reasoning. 

From  the  fact  that  it  possesses  and  exercises  a  power,  it  does  not  fol- 
low, however,  that  it  is  exempt  from  the  limiting  constraint  of  conditions, 
and  the  regulating  force  of  laws. 

In  representation,  man  does  not,  like  the  great  Originator,  create  by 
his  fiat  or  from  nothing,  his  world  of  mental  objects.  It  is  only  from  the 
elements  or  the  suggestions  of  past  presentations  that  he  can  construct  any 
representations  at  all.  What  he  reproduces  or  constructs  anew,  is  in  some 
way  dependent,  upon  what  he  has  previously  experienced.  But  more  than 
this  is  true.  Not  only  must  every  thing  which  is  represented  be  repro- 
duced from  or  by  means  of  some  past  experience,  but  what  is  represented 
at  any  moment  depends  upon  what  was  present  the  instant  before. 

Thus :  I  see  a  person  whom  I  have  previously  seen,  at  a  place  well  remembered,  under 
circumstances  of  peculiar  interest.  The  sight  of  this  person  brings  back,  as  we  say,  the  image 
of  each  of  the  persons  present,  one  after  the  other,  of  the  words  spoken,  of  the  events  which 
occurred,  etc.,  etc.,  till  the  mind  has  wandered  through  a  series  of  pictures,  drawn  from  the 
acquisitions  of  the  past.  Each  new  scene  opens  new  objects,  from  one  to  another  of  which  the 
mind  is  car-ied  forward  by  a  force  and  tendency  of  which  it  is  not  aware,  till  on  a  sudden  \\ 


254  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §222 

vrakes,  comes  to  itself,  and  is  surprised  that  it  has  wandered  so  far  from  its  starting- place — 
wonders  how  it  came  to  its  present  position,  from  which  it  vainly  strives  to  thread  its  waj 
backward. 

In  such  a  succession  of  connected  and  dependent  representations,  we  observe  not  only 
that  one  act  is  dependent  upon  another,  but  that  they  are  connected  by  definite  and  distin- 
guishable relations.  In  one  case  the  present  object  that  suggests  the  object  represented,  is  a 
material  thing  ;  at  another  it  is  a  mental  affection ;  at  another  it  is  an  object  represented  only, 
which  brings  up  another  representation, — image  suggesting  image,  one  after  another. 

These  objects  are  connected,  now  by  having  been  perceived  or  expe- 
rienced together  in  making  parts  of  a  contiguous  scene,  now  by  having 
followed  one  another  in  the  original  presentation ;  now,  one  presentation 
or  image  is  like  another ;  or  a  presentation  resembles  an  image  and  the 
converse ;  or  perhaps  one  was  the  cause,  or  the  effect,  or  the  reason,  or 
the  inference  of  the  other.  The  fact  that  one  object  or  image  brings  up 
another  to  the  mind,  is  called  the  association  of  ideas.  The  conditions  01 
laws  under  which  the  mind  recalls  one  object  by  means  of  another,  are 
usually  called  the  laws  of  association.  The  term  is  open  to  exception, 
because  both  percepts  and  experiences  are  connected  with  images,  as  truly 
as  images  [or  ideas]  with  images.  The  phrase  is,  however,  too  firmly 
established  in  general  acceptance  and  use  to  be  set  aside. 

The  conditions  or  laws  under  which  the  mind  recalls  one  object  by 
means  of  another,  are  called  the  laws  of  association.  The  consideration 
of  these  laws  is  a  prominent  and  interesting  topic  in  the  discussion  of  the 
representative  faculty. 

Eepresenta-  §  222-  The  representative  power,  though  marked  by  com- 
into  seveta^  mon  characteristics  and  obeying  common  laws,  is  divided 
varieties.  mf.Q  geyera]  varieties  or  species.  These  are  separated  from 

one  another  by  the  completeness  or  incompleteness  of  the  pictures  which 
they  make  of  the  objects  once  presented ;  by  the  fidelity  with  which  they 
adhere  to,  or  the  liberty  with  which  they  deviate  from  their  originals ;  by 
the  laws  of  association  which  predominate  in  each  variety,  and  by  the  ends 
for  which  the  power  is  exercised,  and  the  uses  to  which  it  is  applied. 

The  most  perfect  exemplification  of  the  exercise  of  the  repre- 
Perfect memory,  sentative  power  is  an  act  of  perfect  memory.  In  order  to 

know  what  an  act  of  perfect  memory  is,  we  need  only  reflect 
upon  the  essential  constituents  of  a  presentative  act,  as  already  explained. 
Such  an  act  is  always  complex,  involving  the  object,  the  action,  and  the 
agent,  united  by  their  mutual  relations  into  one  indivisible  state.  If  the 
object  is  material,  it  involves  certain  relations  of  space ;  the  action,  being 
one  of  a  continuous  series,  involves  relations  of  time ;  the  agent,  being 
of  body  and  soul  united,  must  exist  in  every  act  under  relations  of  both 
space  and  time.  When  a  single  act  of  presentative  knowledge  is  recalled 
in  all  tlujse  elements  of  object  and  relation,  the  representation  is  complete, 
and  the  act  is  an  act  of  perfect  memory.  For  example,  yesterday  I  toolf 


§222.         THE    REPRESENTATIVE    POWER   DEFINED   AND   EXPLAINED.  255 

a  walk  to  the  top  of  a  neighboring  eminence.  To-day  I  recall  distinctly 
the  landscape  which  I  saw,  in  its  minutest  features — re-creating,  as  I  do,  a 
distinct  and  vivid  picture  of  the  scene ;  and  not  only  of  the  scene,  but  of 
myself  as  beholding  it,  with  the  actions  before  and  after,  with  my  feelings 
also  in  viewing  it,  and  the  very  accidents  of  place  where  I  sat  or  stood 
during  the  view.  This  is  an  act  of  perfect  memory.  It  is  perfect  or 
complete,  because  it  includes  every  element  of  the  original. 

As  time  goes  on,  it  is  possible  that  one  or  other  of  these 
imperfect  mem-  elements  should  be  recalled  far  less  distinctly,  or  should  be 

omitted  altogether.  It  is  possible  that  I  should  be  able  to 
bring  back  the  landscape  only  as  an  object,  and  be  certain,  as  I  see  or 
think  of  it,  only  that  I  once  saw  it  before; -but  how  or  when,  or  with 
what  feelings  or  from  what  point,  I  do  not  recall.  Or  possibly  the  object 
may  be  lost,  and  the  subjective  feelings  may  alone  be  revived  and  recog- 
nized as  having  been  before  experienced.  Relations  of  time  and  acces- 
sories of  place  may  both  be  lost.  Thus,  when  I  see  the  face  of  a  person 
in  a  crowd,  I  know  that  I  have  seen  it  before ;  but  when,  or  where,  or 
with  what  feelings,  I  cannot  recall.  I  remember  a  familiar  passage  of 
prose  or  poetry ;  I  know  that  I  have  read  or  heard  it ;  but  when,  or  with 
what  feelings  or  attendant  circumstances,  I  cannot  tell.  All  these  are 
acts  of  what  may  be  called  imperfect  memory.  The  representation  is 
incomplete  in  some  of  its  elements.  Much  of  our  acquired  knowledge 
is  retained  and  recalled  by  such  acts  of  memory. 

Memory  is  not  only  distinguished  into  varieties  by  the  greater  or  less 
completeness  with  which  it  recalls  the  past,  but  also  by  the  class  of  asso- 
ciations under  which  these  objects  are  represented.  According  to  this 
criterion,  we  have  the  memory  of  space  and  the  memory  of  time,  the 
spontaneous  and  the  philosophical,  the  ready  and  the  retentive,  the 
natural  and  the  artificial  memory. 

But  memory,  whether  perfect  or  imperfect,  is  clearly  distin. 
Phantasy.  guishable  from  phantasy,  or  the  imaging  power.  This  is 

representation  without  the  recognition  that  the  objects 
recalled  have  ever  been  perceived  or  experienced  before.  Examples  of 
this  are  such  as  the  following :  I  look  distinctly  at  the  front  of  a  dwelling, 
the  form  of  a  horse,  or  the  outline  of  a  tree,  each  of  which  I  wish  to 
retain  and  make  wholly  my  own.  I  close  my  eyes  and  picture  each  dis- 
tinctly to  my  mind.  The  undivided  force  of  my  attention  is  expended 
upon  the  object,  and  so  successfully,  that  it  becomes  a  permanent  posses- 
sion as  an  object,  without  any  accessories  of  either  place  or  time.  I  may 
have  travelled,  and  furnished  myself  with  abundant  pictures  of  beautiful 
objects  in  nature  or  art — of  rivers,  lakes,  mountains,  or  wide  expanses 
seen  from  lofty  heights ;  or  I  may  be  absent  from  home,  and  the  home- 
stead, the  accustomed  apartments,  the  grounds,  the  garden,  the  beloved 
faces,  haunt  me  with  their  presence.  In  all  cases  of  disturbed  fancy, 


256  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §222 

often  called  phantasy,  visions  of  objects  seen  before,  but  not  remem- 
bered or  recognized,  throng  in  upon  the  soul.  Especially  if  rapturous 
joy,  poignant  sorrow  or  harrowing  remorse,  have  left  ineffaceable  impres- 
sions of  scenes  and  persons  beloved,  hated,  or  feared,  will  these  images 
re-present  themselves  without  bidding.  There  may  be  no  recognition,  no 
knowledge  that  the  object  is  familiar  or  has  been  seen  or  felt  before. 
These  acts  are  acts  of  imaging,  called  by  Dugald  Stewart,  acts  of  simple 
conception.  They  are  more  likely  to  occur  in  those  conditions  of  the  soul 
in  which  the  action  of  the  reason  is  nearly  suspended,  or  permanently 
set  aside,  as  in  reverie,  dreaming,  monomania,  and  partial  or  complete 
insanity. 

But  the  mind  can  do  more  than  simply  represent  the  past 
iSS*01151*8  witn  greater  or  less  perfection,  with  or  without  the  act  of 

recognition.  It  can  recombine  or  construct  anew  the  mate- 
rials which  the  past  furnishes  for  it  to  work  with  or  upon.  In  such  acts 
it  becomes  imagination.  Of  imagination,  as  thus  defined,  there  are  several 
forms  or  varieties. 

1.  The  mind  may  neglect  or  leave  out  of  view  all  things 

The   mathe-  .         .         .  ,    „ 

maticai  im-    existing  m  space,  and  all  events  occurring  in  time,  and  form 

agination.  /.         .  -•  i      o    • 

to  itself  pictures  ot  void  space,  and  ot  time  more  or  less  ex- 
tended or  limited.  Within  these  voids  it  can  make,  by  its  own  construc- 
tive energy,  geometrical  figures,  and  arrange  series  of  numbered  objects, 
and  thus  provide  for  itself  the  materials  of  mathematical  science.  This 
is  the  mathematical  imagination. 

2.  It   can   separate   and   unite   the  parts  and  attributes  of 
Phantasy  prop-    objects  an(j  existences,  both  spiritual  and  material,  in  divis- 
ions and  combinations  which  never  actually  occur.     These 

separations  and  unions  may  be  effected  for  no  high  end  either  of  reason 
or  improvement,  in  obedience  only  to  the  more  obvious  and  the  lower  laws 
of  association.  Thus,  the  chimney  of  a  house  can  be  set  upon  the  hump 
of  a  camel,  and  the  ears  or  head  of  a  donkey  upon  the  body  of  a  man.  Or 
horses  may  be  colored  red  or  yellow.  This  is  phantasy  proper,  whose 
effects  or  products  are  simply  grotesque,  or,  as  we  say,  fantastic. 

3.  Objects  may  be  recalled  in  wholes  or  in  parts,  and  recom- 
Poetic  fancy.        bined  and  reconstructed  under  the  obvious  and  more  natural 

laws  of  association,  in  forms  attractive  to  the  feelings  and 
approved  by  taste,  for  the  ends  of  wit,  humor,  or  amusement.  This  is 
fancy  proper,  which,  as  exemplified  in  literature  and  some  of  the  fine  arts, 
may  be  distinguished  from  the  higher  imagination. 

4.  When  the  higher  objects  of  nature  and  spirit  are  recalled, 
t fo if,  Tn6! h e    recombined,  and  created,  with  the  aid  of  the  nobler  laws  of 

association,  for  the  higher  ends  of  ideal  elevation  and  im- 
provement— when,  in  addition,  the  better  feelings  are  addressed  and 
excited,  and  the  higher  capacities  of  man  are  called  into  action,  then  the 


§  223.          THE    KEPKESENTATIVE   POWER   DEFINED   AND    EXPLAINED.  257 

power  becomes  poetic  imagination.  The  sphere  of  this  power  is  not 
poetry  alone,  but  eloquence,  music,  painting,  sculpture,  architecture,  and 
landscape  gardening  ;  inasmuch  as  all  afford  opportunities  for  the  expres- 
sion and  excitement  of  the  sentiments  and  suggestions  which  dignify  this 
noble  form  of  the  representative  power.  This  is  imagination  as  con- 
trasted with  fancy. 

5.  When  the  combinations  and  creations  are  effected  for  the 
raHma^natioiir  purposes  of  research,  invention,  and  instruction,  and  under 

laws  of  association  which  are  grounded  on  scientific  or 
thought-relations,  we  have  the  special  application  of  the  representative 
power  which  is  called  the  philosophic  imagination. 

The  philosophic  and  the  poetic  imagination  may  be  limited  to  special 
services  of  ethical  improvement  and  religious  incitement,  and  constitute 
an  important  element  in  ethical  ideality  and  religious  faith. 

S  223.  The   interest  and   the  importance  of   the   representative  power  is 
Interest  and  im-     ' 
portance  of  the    enforced  by  the  following  considerations  : 


1-  First  of  all>  tne  exercise  of  tnis  power  ministers  pleasure  of  a  high 
order  and  in  great  variety,  which  is  independent  of  the  accidents  of  fortune 
and  circumstances.  The  soul,  from  childhood  to  old  age,  delights  in  the  pictures  of  its  own 
creating,  whether  these  are  copied  with  simple  fidelity  from  the  beings  and  events  of  actual 
experience,  or  are  painted  for  mere  delight  In  the  wantonness  of  fancy.  Besides  the  interest 
derived  from  the  objects  created,  it  finds  a  satisfaction  of  the  highest  order  in  the  very  act  of 
treating.  Whether  these  acts  are  exercised  by  the  infant  in  its  endless  combinations  of  play 
and  sport,  or  the  simple  story  which  it  rudely  and  painfully  groups  together  of  two  or  three 
incidents,  or  whether  it  is  employed,  by  the  novelist  or  poet  who  constructs  the  highly-wrought 
fiction  on  which  he  lavishes  all  the  resources  of  his  knowledge  and  his"  skill,  the  pleasure  of 
creating  is  the  same. 

2.  Man  often  flees  to  the  unreal  world  of  the  fancy,  to  find  rest  and  relief  from  the  highly 
wrought  excitement  of  the  too  earnest  and  engrossing  real  world.     Hence,  in  day-dreaming 
or  reverie,  he  enjoys  simple  relaxation  and  not  wholly  inactive  repose.     Often  the  fancy  gives 
more  than  relief  and  rest  —  it  ministers  positive  solace  and  comfort.     Ideal  objects  furnish 
associations  more  pleasing  and  emotions  more  satisfying  than  any  which  the  experience  of 
reality  can  awaken.     The  sick  man  forgets  for  a  brief  moment  his  actual  weariness  and  pain, 
in  the  scenes  of  health  and  action  which  he  imagines.     The  prisoner  is  enlarged  from  his  cell. 
The  oppressed  forgets  his  wrong.     The  homeless  dwells  under  the  shelter  of  a  roof  which  is 
his  own.     The  hunted  exile,  or  the  disgraced  outlaw,  returns  to  his  country,  loved  and  longed 
for. 

3.  This  power  is  the  necessary  condition  of  all  the  higher  functions  of  the  intellect,  and, 
iu  fact,  of  every  description  of  intellectual  achievement,  development,  and  progress.     The 
thought  is  almost  too  obvious  to  express,  that  memory  is  the  servant  of  thought  and  the 
conservator  of  our  acquisitions  ;  that,  without  the  record  of  facts,  principles  could  neither  be 
formed  nor  used.     It  was  not  by  an  idle  fancy  that  Mnemosyne  was  said  by  the  ancients  to  be 
the  mother  of  the  Muses.     Were  the  mind  limited  to  the  objects  and  the  activities  of  the 
present,  it  could  make  little  progress  of  any  kind.     Thought  would  be  almost  impossible. 
Generalization,  by  which  many  objects  are  viewed  as  one,  would  be  restricted  to  the  few 
present  objects  that  could  be  brought  within  the  range  of  a  single  act  of  comparison.     When 
the  act  was  finished,  it  would  be  lost  forever.     It  could  never  be  reapplied  to  a  new  object, 
or  be  enlarged  in  its  sphere.     The  new  individual  objects  of  sense  and  of  consciousness  would 


258  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  2^4. 

also  be  isolated.  They  could  not  even  be  named,  for  each  would  stand  apart  in  the  louelinesi 
of  its  own  individuality.  Language  would  be  impossible. 

The  induction  of  principles  and  of  laws  would  be  excluded,  for,  however  nearly  the 
mind  might  infer  that  a  common  law  controlled  the  objects  perceived  at  a  single  gaze,  neither 
the  objects  nor  the  principles  learned  through  them,  could  present  themselves  a  second  time, 
the  one  to  be  exemplified  or  the  other  to  be  explained.  There  could  be  neither  invention  nor 
discovery.  Even  in  mathematical  science  both  would  be  impossible ;  for  it  is  only  as  the 
mind  imagines  new  constructions  in  space  and  new  combinations  in  number,  or  their  symbols, 
that  it  can  develop  new  theorems  or  solve  new  problems.  Creations  of  art  would  be  excluded  ; 
for  the  constructive  brain  of  the  painter  and  sculptor  must  go  before  or  with  the  hand  that 
guides  the  pencil  and  directs  the  chisel.  The  inventor  in  mechanics,  the  composer  in  poetry 
or  music,  the  thinker  in  morals,  philosophy,  and  letters,  the  deviser  of  beneficent  schemes  for 
human  well-being,  are  each  and  all  dependent  on  the  resources  of  the  imagination  for  every 
possible  conjunction  of  cause  and  effect,  of  tendency  and  result,  out  of  which  to  find  what  it 
geeks  or  to  effect  what  it  desires. 

We  may  say,  indeed,  that  the  representative  power  in  the  double  activity  of  the  memory 
and  imagination  are  as  indispensable  to  the  higher  intellect,  as  are  the  senses  and  the  con- 
sciousness  which  furnish  the  material  for  it  to  work  upon.  The  one  gives  this  in  the  original 
form  ;  the  other  revives  it  with  new  freshness  and  in  a  more  plastic  condition.  No  more 
manifest  or  more  serious  error  can  be  committed,  than  for  the  philosopher  tr>  decry  the  im- 
agination as  injurious  to,  or  inconsistent  with,  eminent  scientific  activity  and  achievement. 
Without  the  ministry  and  service  of  this  subtle  and  ready  agent,  the  thinking  power  can  have 
only  the  scantiest  material  to  work  upon.  According  to  its  activity  and  its  wealth  are  the 
reach  and  opportunity  of  the  higher  intellect. 

The  practical  uses  of  the  imagination  are  not  to  be  overlooked.  It  creates  ideals  of  what 
we  might  be  and  do,  which  are  far  higher  and  nobler  than  any  thing  which  we  are  or  which 
we  perform.  It  lifts  us  above  ourselves  and  the  examples  we  observe  in  real  life,  furnishing 
nobler  standards  to  which  we  may  aspire.  It  constructs  images  of  a  better  existence  and  of 
a  better  society  than  our  residence  on  earth  can  furnish.  It  makes  to  us  attractive  sugges- 
tions of  that  Unseen  Being,  to  whose  goodness  and  greatness  the  highest  and  brightest  of  our 
imaginings  can  give  us  only  feeble  and  faint  approximations.  A  pure  and  elevated  imagination 
is  in  many  ways  allied  to  a  noble  ethical  nature,  and  favors  an  ardent  and  a  sustained  religious 
faith.  If  the  representative  power  is  so  varied  in  its  functions,  and  so  important  in  its  influ- 
ence and  uses,  it  may  reasonably  attract  our  attention  if  we  would  truly  know  ourselves. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE    REPRESENTATIVE    OBJECT ITS   NATURE    AND   IMPORTANCE. 


OUR  general  view  of  the  representative  power  has  furnished  us  with  three  leading  topics ' 
The  objects  or  products  of  representation,  the  conditions  or  laws  of  its  activity,  and  the 
varieties  of  representation  as  determined  jointly  by  these  different  objects  and  laws.  We 
begin  with  a  particular  consideration  of  the  first  of  these — The  object  in  represen- 
tation 

why  the  object  §  224<  Tne  Product  OI>  tne  representative  power,  or  the 
tk>n  rnSsSespe"  °^ject  which  the  mind  creates  and  apprehends  in  memory 
tioj  discussion.  an(j  imagination,  has  been  the  occasion  of  much  confusion  of 


§  225.     THE   REPRESENTATIVE    OBJECT — ITS   NATURE  AND  IMPORTANCE.          25fi 

thought,  and  not  a  little  controversy.  Scarcely  any  single  topic  has  been 
more  vexed  in  ancient  or  mediaeval  philosophy,  than  the  nature  of  ideas 
or  representative  images.  As  the  term  idea  in  the  English'  language 
is  applied  to  the  widest  possible  range  of  objects,  so  these  controversies 
either  include  or  trench  upon  almost  every  possible  question  in  meta 
physical  philosophy,  beginning  with  the  images  or  species,  material  01 
quasi-material,  that  were  supposed  to  be  given  off  from  every  object 
perceived ;  and  ending  with  those  eternal  ideas  which  Plato  and  his  fol- 
lowers held  to  be  the  archetypes  of  all  created  beings,  and  which  they 
even  hypostatized  into  actual  and  almost  divine  agents.  These  contro- 
versies and  questions  respect  ideas  of  perception,  of  memory,  of  imagi- 
nation, and  of  thought — ideas  a  posteriori,  or  ideas  of  experience,  and 
ideas  a  priori,  or  ideas  that  are  original  and  necessary.  But  to  all  these 
the  ideas  of  the  memory  and  imagination  have  a  very  close  relation,  and 
hence  a  just  determination  of  their  real  nature  will  go  very  far  toward  an 
accurate  understanding  and  a  satisfactory  solution  of  the  questions  and 
controversies  which  concern  the  remainder.  In  respect  to  this  class  of 
representative  ideas,  three  topics  or  heads  of  inquiry  present  themselves : 
I.  The  nature  and  mode  of  existence  of  the  object  which  the  mind  remem- 
bers and  imagines.  II.  Its  relation  to  the  original,  from  which  it  is 
derived  and  to  which  it  is  referred.  HI.  The  special  service  which  it  ren- 
ders in  thought  and  action. 

I.  The  nature  and  mode  of  existence  of  the  representative  object. 

§  225.  These  objects  or  products,  as  has  already  been  stated 
SiSi  ob^cts.57"  (§  221),  are  psychical  existences.  They  exist  in  and  for  the 

soul  only.  They  are  at  once  the  products  of  the  mind  which 
brings  them  into  being,  and  objects  for  that  same  mind  to  cognize  or  con- 
template. Whether  they  are  transcribed  from  real  beings  and  real  acts, 
or  whether  they  are  created  out  of  the  materials  or  upon  the  suggestions 
which  real  objects  furnish,  makes  no  difference  with  the  nature  of  the 
objects  themselves.  These  are  purely  psychical  and  spiritual.  It  makes 
no  difference  whether  the  original  is  material,  or  spiritual ;  the  idea  or 
image  of  each  and  of  both  is  simply  a  psychical  object. 

In  any  state  or  energy  of  representation  there  is  distinguishable  the  act  and  the  object. 
These  two  can  be  distinguished,  but  not  divided.  When  I  represent  the  sun,  or  the  stars  by 
night,  or  my  own  act  or  feelings  when  I  beheld  them,  the  mental  object  which  I  contemplate 
is  severed  in  thought  from  the  mental  act  by  which  I  think  of  them.  They  cannot  be  severed 
in  time  or  in  fact.  We  cannot  by  one  mental  effort,  create  the  object  and  hold  it  in  waiting 
for  a  second  effort  by  which  the  mind  turns  upon  it  its  apprehensive  gaze.  The  two  concur 
together.  The  one  element  is  given  and  is  present  with  the  other.  The  creation  of  the  ob- 
ject, and  the  mind's  inspection  of  it,  are  as  one. 

We  do  not  here  bring  into  view  that  concealed  and  subtle  activity  by  means  of  which  the 
mind  retains  or  is  moved  to  recall  the  object.  This  activity  and  this  influence  is  out  of  con 
sciousness,  and  is  to  be  sharply  distinguished  from  those  elements  which  consciousness  dia 
trimmates  and  records.  It  is  with  these  only  that  for  the  present  we  have  to  do. 


260  THE    HUMAX  INTELLECT.  §  22V 

§  226.    The  mental  object  is  as  transient  and  evanescent  ae 

It  w  a  transient     °  •,..-, 

and  sbort-iived  the  act  by  which  it  is  brought  into  being.  In  this  respect 
the  mental  object  is  strikingly  contrasted  with  objects  that 
are  real.  The  acts  by  which  we  know  both  psychical  and  actual  objects, 
are  for  a  moment.  They  die  as  soon  as  they  are  born.  They  cease  to  bf 
at  the  instant  in  which  they  begin.  But  it  is  not  so  with  these  two  COD 
trasted  objects.  The  real  object  alone  is  fixed  and  permanent.  To  it  we 
can  come  and  from  it  we  can  go,  and  find  it  still  the  same.  But  the  psy 
chical  transcript  or  creation  is  as  shortlived  and  evanescent  as  the  act  by 
which  we  behold  it. 

should  be  §  22/7*  The  psychical  objects  of  the  representative  power  are 
pe?todand  to  ^e  carefully  distinguished  from  those  spectra  or  halluci- 
hallucinations,  nations  which  are  the  result  of  an  abnormal  or  morbid 
condition  of  the  sensorium  or  the  nervous  organism.  The  one  are 
psychical,  the  other  are  psycho-physical.  The  one  are  spiritual  in  their 
nature,  the  other  are  dependent  upon  the  soul  as  connected  with  the 
sensorium. 

Hallucinations,  or  spectra,  are  intimately  related  to  those  subjective  sensations  which,  aa 
we  have  seen,  are  caused  by  any  excitement  of  the  sensorium  by  means  of  subjective  agencies 
as  distinguished  from  material  objects  (cf.  §  342).  In  certain  conditions  of  the  human  system, 
the  sensorium  is  capable  of  being  so  excited — sometimes  by  psychical  and  sometimes  by 
physical  agencies,  and  sometimes  by  both  conjoined — as  to  give  to  the  mind  objects  taken 
to  be  sense-perceptions,  but  which  have  no  actual  existence  (cf.  §  342).  These  are  not 
properly  representative  images  or  ideas,  which  are  purely  psychical  creations  and  objects, 
being  created  by  a  psychical  power  under  psychical  conditions,  and  having  only  a  psychical 
existence.  This  psychical  activity  and  these  psychical  laws  hold  intimate  relations  to  the 
sensorium  and  the  psycho-physiological  activity ;  but  the  action  and  the  products  of  the  two 
are  clearly  distinguishable,  and  should  not  be  confounded. 

These  representative  objects  are  not  only  psychical,  but  they  are  intellectual 

They  are  intel-     objects.     It  has  been    held  by  some  that  memory  and  imagination  when 

Actual  objects.       they  recall   past   psychical   experiences  of  feeling   and  of  will   recall   the 

experiences  themselves,  and  not  our  ideas  of  them,  (a.)  "  It  is  not  ideas, 
notions,  cognitions  only,  but  feelings  and  conations,  which  are  held  fast,  and  which  can,  there- 
fore, be  again  awakened."  "  Memory  does  not  belong  alone  to  the  cognitive  faculties,  but 
the  law  extends  in  like  manner  over  all  the  three  primary  classes  of  the  mental  phenomena  " 
(Ham.  Met.  Lee.  xxx.).  This  opinion  of  H.  SCHMID  is  apparently  sanctioned  by  HAMILTON. 
It  is  a  logical  inference  from  one  of  the  doctrines  which  he  seems  to  advance  concerning 
consciousness.  But  if  consciousness  is  an  act  of  knowledge,  and  knowledge,  when  matured, 
gives,  as  its  products,  intellectual  objects  which  we  can  recall;  then,  as  when  we  feel  we 
know  that  we  feel,  so,  when  we  remember  that  we  have  felt,  we  remember  our  past  feeling 
as  an  object  known — *'.  e.,  we  recall  our  idea  of  it  (§  75).  Whatever  this  image  or  idea  may 
be,  it  is  not  the  feeling  actually  recalled  as  a  real  feeling,  any  more  than  the  mental  picture 
of  the  mountain  which  I  remember,  is  an  actual  mountain.  The  feeling  remembered,  if 
pleasant,  gives  me  pleasure ;  but  it  is  because  I  remember  the  object  which  occasioned  the 
first  pleasure,  as  well  as  the  pleasure  which  it  occasioned,  that  I  experience  this  new  emotion. 
The  pleasure  which  I  enjoy  is  not  the  original  pleasure  revived,  but  a  fresh  pleasure  from  the 
object  recalled  by  the  intellect,  and  perhaps  a  reflex  pleasure  from  the  fact  that  it  is  revived. 
But  whatever  it  be  which  excites  the  pleasure,  whether  the  exciting  object  or  the  pleasure 


§229,    THE  REPRESENTATIVE    OBJECT  —  ITS   NATURE  AND   IMPORTANCE.         201 

excited,  it  is  the  object,  or  the  pleasure  as  remembered  —  that  is,  as  an  intellectual  object  — 
which  is  apprehended  by  the  mind.  The  representative  object  is  not  only  a  psychical  but 
it  is  also  an  intellectual  object. 

II.  The  relation  of  the  representative  idea  to  its  original. 

§  228.    The  represented   object  holds  a  positive   and   clos€ 

Pb  3  relation  can     '  J  «..«.. 

be  compared    relation  to  the  real  or  original  presented  object,  which  is 

irith  no  other.  .  ,         ,  i       -,    •  i    •       j 

sm  generis,  and  can  neither  be  resolved  into,  nor  explained 
by  any  other.  We  say  that  the  one  is  taken  from  or  is  suggested  by  the 
other  ;  that  the  one  is  true  or  false  to  the  other  ;  that  the  one  is  known  or 
recalled  by  the  other  ;  that  the  one  is  like  or  unlike  the  other.  What  pre- 
cisely the  relation  is  which  these  phrases  describe,  it  is  not  so  easy  to  de- 
termine. It  is  important  at  least  to  distinguish  it  from  those  relations 
with  which  it  is  often  confounded,  and  thus  to  clear  away  the  many  errors 
into  which  philosophy  has  often  been  betrayed. 

For  convenience,  we  distinguish  the  objects  of  representation  into  two  classes. 

Two    classes    of    The  first  includes  those  which  are  copied  or  transcribed  from  originals  in 

representa- 

tive objects.  nature  —  the    objects  that   appear  in  recognition  or  memory.      The   second 

includes  all  those  which  imagination,  in  any  of  its  forms,  modifies  or  con- 
structs from  the  materials  or  suggestions  which  nature  furnishes. 

We  begin  with  the  first  —  with  representations  transcribed  from  nature  ;  i.  £.,  with  the 
mental  objects  that  are  acquired  by  perception  and  consciousness  —  which  are  employed  in 
recognition  or  are  conserved  in  memory.  In  respect  to  all  of  these,  we  inquire,  What  relation 
do  they  hold  to  their  originals  ? 

Representative     %  229«    In  answer  to  this  question,  we  observe  :    (1.)  That 
°and    tne  ideas  which  we  acquire  by  consciousness  or  perception 


doniStP  resemble  ^°  not  properly  resemble  them,  either  as  parts  to  parts  or  as 
wholes  to  wholes.  Neither  the  single  features  nor  the  com- 
bined wholes  of  any  mental  transcripts  can  by  any  possibility  resemble  or 
be  like  the  single  features  or  united  wholes  of  any  material  or  spiritual  being 
or  act.  A  mental  object  is  wholly  incapable  of  being  confronted  or  com- 
pared with  an  existing  reality.  One  material  thing  can  be  like  another 
material  thing  as  a  whole  and  as  a  part.  So  can  one  spiritual  being,  or  a 
single  spiritual  act,  be  like  another  spiritual  being  or  act.  One  tree  can  be 
like  another  tree,  as  a  whole,  or  in  one  or  more  features,  as  in  size,  in 
form,  in  color,  in  fruit,  in  effects.  One  mental  state  can  be  like  another, 
as  one  affection  of  hope  or  fear,  of  joy  or  sorrow.  One  act  of  perception 
can  be  like  another  act,  in  its  occasions  or  attendant  circumstances,  or  in 
its  subjective  quality.  But  the  mental  image  of  a  tree  cannot  be  like  a 
tree,  nor  can  the  mental  remembrance  of  a  mental  experience  resemble 
or  be  like  the  original  act  or  state. 

It  is  true,  one  of  these  may  be  loosely  and  vaguely  said  to  resemble  or  be  like  the  other  ; 
but  that  this  language  is  only  employed  in  the  way  of  analogy,  is  evident  from  the  contradic 
tions  and  absurdities  into  which  those  philosophers  have  involved  themselves  who  tjve  under 
stood  it  literally 


262  THE    HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §280 

We  have  seen  (§  201)  to  what  contradictory  and  impossible  conclusions 
Contradictions  Locke's  definition  of  knowledge,  as  the  discernment  of  a  conformity  or  re- 
in such  a  theory.  semblance  of  ideas  with  their  objects,  exposed  himself,  and  actually  con 
ducted  Berkeley  and  Hume.  This  definition,  literally  construed,  would,  on 
the  one  hand,  make  the  knowledge  of  real  existences  impossible,  by  placing  the  real  object 
forever  beyond  the  reach  of  the  mind,  it  the  mind  could  attain  it  only  by  means  of  the  men- 
tal ideas  between  which  and  the  original  it  could  institute  a  comparison  and  discern  a  resem 
blance  ;  or,  on  the  other,  it  would  make  such  a  discernment  of  resemblance  superfluous,  by 
requiring  that  the  mind  should  first  know  the  original,  in  order  to  compare  it  with  the  tran- 
script. To  say  that,  in  order  to  know,  we  must  discern  that  our  ideas  resemble  realities,  is  tc 
assume  that  we  already  do  or  do  not  know  the  original.  If  we  already  know  these  original 
realities,  we  do  not  need  to  inquire  whether  the  representative  idea  resembles  it.  If  we  do 
not  know  the  original,  we  never  can  acquire  this  knowledge  by  finding  a  resemblance  between 
it  and  its  mental  transcript  ;  because,  to  discern  resemblance,  it  is  requisite  that  we  should 
first  have  known  the  objects  which  we  are  required  to  compare. 

Many  of  the  theories  of  representative-perception  rest  on  the  mistaken  assumption,  that 
what  the  mind  first  and  directly  perceives,  must  be  some  mental  idea  or  transcript,  arid  that  it 
reaches  the  original  or  material  reality  only  as  it  discerns  a  likeness  or  resemblance  between  the 
one  and  the  other.  The  question  would  then  continually  be  interposed,  '  How  a  thought-object 
can  be  like  a  thing  ?  what  resemblance  is  there  between  a  mental  picture  and  a  material  real- 
ity ?  '  To  relieve  this  difficulty,  third  entities  were  interposed,  partaking  somewhat  of  the 
nature  of  the  two  —  something  material  that  was  attenuated  almost  to  spirit,  or  something 
spiritual  that  was  hardened  almost  into  matter  —  a  sensible  species,  a  so-called  material  idea,  01 
phantasm,  which  was  conceived  to  have  points  of  likeness  with  each  of  the  two  extremes  of 
matter  and  spirit  and  served  to  establish  the  possibility  of  resemblance  between  them. 


in  memory  and  §  23°-  We  observe  still  further,  that  when  we  remember  or 
discernment  'of  recognize  objects  which  we  have  previously  known,  we  dc 
None^n  Timpie  no^  discern  any  proper  resemblance  between  the  original  and 
memory.  j^g  mental  transcript.  For  example,  we  look  upon  an  object, 

as  a  house,  a  tree,  a  portrait,  the  page  of  a  book  ;  or  we  hear  a  sound,  we 
perform  some  mental  act,  or  experience  some  feeling  ;  and  when  the  object 
is  removed,  we  recall  it  in  our  memory.  It  were  simply  absurd  to  say 
that  we  recall  the  material  object  by  its  mental  object,  or  that  we  remem- 
ber the  object  by  its  likeness  to  the  mental  picture  which  we  revive  to  our 
minds.  A  discerned  resemblance  supposes  two  objects  between  which  the 
likeness  is  seen  ;  but  in  an  act  of  simple  memory  it  is  plain  that  only  one 
object  is  before  the  mind.  It  is  therefore  clearly  impossible  that  any  re- 
semblance should  be  discerned  ;  inasmuch  as  two  objects  are  necessarily 
required.  In  recalling  or  remembering  a  past  object,  event,  or  mental 
experience,  we  simply  picture  it  as  having  been  before  discerned  or  expe- 
rienced in  fact,  and  we  do  this  by  a  direct  act  of  the  mind.  This  pecu- 
liarity in  an  act  of  simple  memory  was  without  doubt  what  Reid  intended 
to  notice  and  to  emphasize  in  his  assertion,  which  Hamilton  criticises  so 
often,  that  in  "  memory  we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  past." 

When  we  recognize  a  real  object  by  a  second  or  subsequent 
odtion.in  reoeg"  &ct  of  knowledge,  we  do  not  discern  a  resemblance  between 

the  object  and  its  mental  picture.    In  such  a  case  we  are 


§  230.       THE    REPRESENTATIVE    OBJECT-   ITS   NATURE  AND    IMPORTANCE.       203 

said  to  recall  the  picture  which  we  have  preserved,  and  to  compare  it 
anew  with  the  original,  and  in  this  way  to  recognize  the  object  as  like  th« 
picture,  or  the  picture  as  true  to  the  object.  This  is  said  with  some  plau 
sibility  or  verisimilitude  ;  for  it  may  and  often  does  happen  that  we  turn 
from  the  real  object  to  the  mental  picture,  and  again  from  the  mental  pic- 
ture back  to  the  real  object,  till  at  last  we  are  satisfied  that  the  object  is 
the  same,  that  our  recollection  of  it  is  correct,  and  our  recognition  of  it  ia 
well-founded.  But  in  all  such  cases  there  are  not  two  objects  before  the 
mind,  viz.,  the  mental  picture  and  the  original  ;  and  of  course  no  resem- 
blance can  be  discerned  between  the  two.  The  mind  has  to  do  with  but  a 
single  object  —  now  with  the  original,  and  then  with  the  transcript.  It 
reverts  from  the  one  to  the  other,  but  it  does  not  properly  compare  the  two, 
nor  discern  a  likeness  between  them. 

When  we  discern  likeness  or  resemblance,  we  compare  two  objects  together  that  are 
homogeneous,  as  two  colors  or  two  forms.  But  we  cannot  compare  a  real  object  and  its  men- 
tal transcript,  by  bringing  them  together  in  juxtaposition  or  in  immediate  succession.  We 
cannot  compare  them  by  juxtaposition,  for  that  would  require  that  the  mind  should  think  of 
the  same  object  as  real  and  mental  at  the  same  instant.  We  cannot  compare  them  in  imme- 
diate succession,  for  this  would  require  that  we  first  know  the  image  to  belong  to  the  object, 
before  we  compare  it  with  the  object,  to  discern  whether  the  two  are  alike.  That  is,  we  must 
first  remember  or  recognize,  in  order  to  compare  and  see  resemblance  ;  while  the  theory 
requires  that  we  first  compare  and  discern  likeness  in  order  that  we  may  remember  and  recog- 
nize. 

But  if  the  relation  between  these  objects  is  not  a  relation  of  resemblance,  what  is  it? 
For  that  some  relation  is  discerned  between  them,  is  obvious  from  the  experience  of  all  men, 
and  from  the  tenacious  uniformity  with  which  it  is  described  as  a  relation  of  resemblance. 
We  reply  : 


memory  °ana  r°e-  ^e  relati°n  °f  tne  mental  transcript  to  the  original  can  only 
cognition  known  })Q  understood  by  considering  the  acts  of  mind  bv  which  we 

by       conscious-  . 

ness  only.  acquire  and  recall  them.     The  maxim  has  been  more  than 

once  repeated,  that  the  nature  of  mental  products  can  only  be  understood 
by  the  mental  acts  which  give  them  birth.  To  understand  the  relation 
of  a  transcript  to  its  original,  we  must  consider  the  nature  of  the  act  by 
which  we  acquire  it,  as  related  to  the  act  by  which  we  recall  and  revive 
the  same. 

To  bring  these  acts  together,  in  order  to  compare  them,  let  them  be  employed 
perception,     alternately  upon  the  same  object.     Let  the  eye  be  fixed  upon  some  object, 


Scogmtion.  &'i  as  of  a  IandscaPe>  or  a  human  face,  and  then  be  alternately  opened  and  shut. 
In  other  words,  let  the  eye  of  the  body  and  the  eye  of  the  mind  be  occu- 
pied upon  the  same  material  picture  and  its  mental  transcript.  In  the  act  of  perception  I  see 
the  real  landscape,  or  face,  in  its  relations  of  extension,  form,  and  color.  In  the  act  of  repre- 
sentation, I  seem  in  phantasy  to  see  the  same  landscape,  its  extended  surface,  the  several 
parts,  their  relation,  form,  and  size,  their  lights  and  shades,  and  distributed  color.  It  is 
pictured  or  imaged  as  real,  but  it  is  known  not  to  be  real.  It  is  known  to  be  created  by  and 
to  exist  in  the  mind.  Both  these  acts  are  known  to  be  real,  and  so  are  their  products.  One 
'<*  known  to  depend  on  the  other,  in  act  and  object  ;  the  second,  in  its  object,  to  be  a  mental 


264  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  231. 

repetition  of  the  first.  In  the  second,  we  say  we  seem  to  recreate  so  far  as  we  can  by  the 
mind,  the  real  or  material  object  of  the  first.  The  capacity  to  create  a  mental  transcript 
of  a  real  thing  is  involved  in  the  very  power  to  remember.  Each  of  these  acts  is  original 
and  sui  generis  ;  and  the  relation  of  the  one  act  to  the  other  is  as  original  as  are  the  act* 
themselves.  This  relation  cannot  be  compared  to  the  resemblance  between  two  objects  oi 
perception  or  two  states  of  consciousness ;  between  two  colors,  or  two  forms,  or  two  feeling^ 
or  two  thoughts. 

As  the  eye  opens  and  shuts  upon  the  landscape  seen  and  the  landscape  imaged,  the  real 
landscape  is  alternately  remembered  and  cognized.  When  the  eye  is  shut,  it  is  remem- 
bered as  having  been  seen.  When  it  is  recognized,  it  is  recognized  as  the  same  which  we  saw 
before,  and  which  we  had  remembered  during  the  interval ;  but  in  neither  case  is  any  resem- 
blance discerned.  It  is  involved  in  the  act  of  memory,  that  an  object  perceived  should  be 
recreated  by  the  mind  and  recalled  as  real,  and  also  that,  when  the  object  is  perceived,  it 
Bhould  be  recognized  as  the  same  which  was  remembered  as  mental.  Moreover,  there  is  also 
involved  the  knowledge  that  the  object,  as  perceived  and  recognized,  is  real — either  spiritual 
or  mental — and  that  the  object  as  remembered,  was  mental  only. 

When  it  is  said  that  the  mental  image  is  transcribed  from  the  original,  or  represents  it, 
the  language  describes  an  act  and  objects  which  are  in  one  sense  sui  generis,  and  incomparable 
with  any  others.  The  nature  of  the  product  or  object  is  determined  by  the  mind's  capacity  to 
originate  it ;  and  the  authority  of  the  mind  to  trust  it  and  accept  the  objects  which  its  own 
activities  involve,  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that  it  finds  itself,  so  to  speak,  spontaneously 
exercising  the  power.  Concerning  this  peculiar  object  and  relation  we  affirm  positively. 

Mental  ictures  §  231<  00  The  mental  picture  affects  the  sensibilities  less  pow- 
er^u^y  tnan  tne  perception  or  experience  of  the  reality.  By 
the  supposition,  if  the  original  be  a  sense  or  material  object, 
it  must  move  or  excite  the  senses,  and  this  class  of  feelings  are  in  their 
essential  nature  absorbing  and  vivid.  If  the  experience  be  of  a  mental 
act  or  state,  no  recollection  or  transcript  can  match  the  reality  in  its 
power  to  interest  and  excite  the  soul. 

Different  persons  differ  greatly  in  the  power  vividly  to  reproduce  and  make  real  the  past, 
and  as  greatly  in  the  capacity  to  be  moved  by  it  in  their  sensibilities.  Some  persons  cannot 
revive  a  scene  of  pleasure  or  pain  without  ecstasy  or  horror ;  the  very  picture  or  remembrance  of 
any  thing  which  they  have  enjoyed  or  suffered  seems  to  revive  much  of  the  delight  or  pain  which 
the  original  experience  occasioned.  But  even  the  sensibility  of  such  persons  to  the  present 
and  the  real  is  usually  in  direct  ratio  to  their  susceptibility  to  the  pictures  which  their  memory 
revives.  That  the  real  object  excites  more  feeling  than  the  same  object  remembered,  ia 
assented  to  by  common  experience  and  confirmed  by  universal  testimony. 

Segnius  irritant  animos  demissa  per  aurem 
Quam  quse,  sunt  oeulis  subjecta  fidelibus,  el  quse 
Jpfe  ttibi  tradit  spectator.—  Hon.  De  Art.  Poet. 

O,  who  can  hold  a  fire  in  his  hand, 

By  thinking  on  the  frosty  Caucasus  I 

Or  cloy  the  hungry  edge  of  appetite, 

By  hare  imagination  of  a  feast  ? — SHAKESPEARE,  Rich.  IT. 

Sometimes,  indeed,  it  happens  that  a  recollected  object  excites  stronger  feeling  than  the 
object  when  directly  cognized.  Thus,  a  scene  of  suffering  may  be  witnessed  with  little 
unotion,  which  cannot  be  revived  in  thought  without  shuddering.  Thus,  friends  and  oppor- 
tunities aie  vilued  far  less  when  we  have  them,  than  when  we  think  of  them  after  they  arc 


§  233.   THE    REPRESENTATIVE    OBJECT  -  ITS   NATURE  AND   IMPORTANCE.          26ft 

gone.  This  comes  from  the  circumstance  that,  when  the  object  was  present,  we  failed  tc 
attend  to  or  rightly  estimate  its  value  or  its  real  character.  Memory  corrects  our  carelest 
observation  or  our  mistaken  judgments,  and  so  opens  our  sensibilities  to  more  vivid  emotions. 

A  mental  picture  §232.  (2)  The  mental  picture  consists  of  fewer  elements  than 
elements  than  a  the  original.  It  is  but  a  scanty  outline,  as  contrasted  with 
its  fulness  —  a  skeleton,  as  compared  with  its  roundness  and 
life.  We  look  at  a  real  tree,  and  in  the  background  there  is  the  confused 
or  vague  perception  of  the  undistinguished  mass  of  form  and  color,  while 
from  it  is  projected  in  bold  relief  a  few  prominent  parts,  that  attract  and 
hold  the  attention.  The  mental  picture  of  the  same,  when  most  success- 
fully taken  by  the  best  observer,  and  after  the  most  attentive  inspection, 
is  but  a  meagre  transcript  of  a  few  of  those  details  which  the  attention 
caught  ;  while  of  the  multitude  that  were  only  confusedly  apprehended, 
scarcely  can  a  trace  of  one,  here  and  there,  be  recalled.  If  we  test  by  the 
reality  the  best  picture  that  we  can  frame  in  the  fancy,  we  are  surprised 
at  the  poverty  of  the  one  and  the  richness  of  the  other. 
The  mental  pic-  8  233.  (3)  The  mental  picture  is  recalled  in  parts  under  the 

ture  is    recalled     ?  ,  .  .   ,  ,      . 

m  parts,  slowly,  laws  by  which  one  suggests  another,  and  is  constructed 
eiveacts.  with  comparative  slowness.  The  reality  displays  its  wealth 

of  detail  as  coexistent,  to  a  single  view.  Or,  if  we  study  its  details  with 
attentive  analysis  (§  187),  we  do  this  with  inconceivable  rapidity,  under 
the  guidance  and  suggestion  of  the  object  itself.  The  object,  when 
re-created  in  memory,  is  re-created  in  the  several  parts  of  which  it  is  com- 
posed :  if  a  material  object,  in  the  several  sense-percepts  which  make  it  a 
thing  or  whole.  If  it  is  extended  in  space,  or  manifold  or  irregular  in  out- 
line, the  parts  of  the  surface  and  outline  must  be  recovered  one  by  one, 
under  the  laws  of  association,  and  by  acts  that  are  successive  to  one 
another  in  time.  This  fact  has  led  many  psychologists  to  reason  that 
our  ideas  and  notions  of  space  arid  space-objects  can  be  resolved  into  and 
originally  consist  of  relations  and  notions  of  time. 

To  illustrate  these  contrasted  features,  we  need  select  but  a  single  example. 
Example  from  a     _    . 
scene  m  nature,     It  is  a  precipice  up  which  we  gaze.     First  it  impresses  us  as  a  whole,  diver- 

"4      '    sified  bv  its  varied  features.     Here  are  the  broad  faces  of  perpendicular  or 


impending  rock.  These  are  buttressed  by  slopes  strewn  with  accumulated 
fragments.  Here  and  there  are  bushy  crags  and  scattered  boulders.  The  whole  cuts  against 
the  sky  with  a  notched  outline,  fringed  here  and  there  with  nodding  herbage,  or  broken  by 
Borne  daring  tree,  that,  stayed  upon  its  uncertain  footing,  reaches  out  and  up  toward  heaven. 
If  all  this  is  apprehended  by  sense-perception,  the  quick  eye  first  surveys  the  whole  with  a 
rapid  sweep,  then  runs  hither  and  thither,  as  it  is  caught  and  led  by  some  salient  feature,  the 
rock  itself  bringing  out  new  material  faster  than  the  mind  can  appropriate  it,  impressing  the 
feelings  with  new  emotions  of  wonder  the  longer  we  strive  to  master  its  wealth. 

Let  us  seek  to  image  that  rock  in  the  mind,  at  evening,  when  we  are  just  returned  from 
a  fresh  gaze  upon  its  front.  In  place  of  the  exhaustless  confusion  of  the  vaguely-seen  whole 
to  guide  and  excite  the  eye,  there  slowly  presents  itself  the  scanty  framework  of  the  few  parts 
which  can  be  recalled  by  the  mind.  These  parts  are  recovered  one  by  one,  as  the  mind  rests 
upon  what  is  already  present,  and  brings  back  in  fragments,  and  by  repeated  efforts,  that  which 


266  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §234, 

it  suggests.  However  exciting  the  effort  to  recall  and  to  reconstruct,  and  Lowever  pleasing 
the  picture  that  is  recalled,  yet  the  impressiveness  and  exciting  power  of  the  reality  are  wholly 
wanting. 

The  objects  which  the  imagination  in  any  way  combines  and 
creates  do  not  differ  greatly  from  those  which  the  memory 
transcribes,  in  their  relation  to  the  real  existences  of  matter 
or  spirit.  The  only  material  difference  between  the  two  can  be  expressed 
in  a  word — the  one  represents  real,  the  other  possible  existences ;  the 
originals  of  the  one  in  fact  exist,  and  have  in  fact  been  perceived  or 
experienced  j  realities  corresponding  to  the  other  might  exist.  In  every 
other  respect  the  two  classes  of  objects  coincide. 

When  we  say,  '  Might  exist,'  so  far  as  the  perception  or  consciousness  are  concerned,  we 
do  not  assert  that  they  might  be  believed  or  supposed  to  exist  in  consistency  with  the  known 
agencies  and  laws  of  nature  in  matter  and  spirit,  but  that  the  relations  involved  in  the  direct 
experiences  of  the  facts  of  nature  would  allow  them  really  to  exist  and  to  occur 

How  greatly  and  in  how  many  particulars  imagined  objects  may  be  varied  from  the 
originals  of  nature,  and  what  are  the  limits  within  which  the  imagination  can  use  its  powe; 
to  create  and  combine,  will  be  considered  hereafter.  P.  II.  c.  v. 

III.    The  usefulness  of  ideas  in  thought  and  action. 

8  234.    The  special  service   of  the   products   of  the  repre- 

In  thoueht,  we     '  . 

prefer  ideas  to    sentative  power  for  thought  and  action  remain  to  be  con- 

realities. 

sidered.  It  has  already  been  observed  (§§  52,  170),  that  the 
process  of  perception,  or  consciousness,  is  normal  and  complete  when  it 
results  in  an  idea  or  image — i.  e.,  when  a  transcript  of  the  individual 
object  is  prepared  for  future  recall.  The  usefulness  of  these  acquired 
facts  and  of  these  imagined  possibilities  of  nature  will  be  accepted  by 
every  one.  Their  absolute  indispensableness  to  secure  the  past,  and  to 
give  range  and  reach  to  invention,  is  obvious  to  every  mind.  But  it 
is  not  clearly,  certainly  it  is  not  generally  acknowledged,  that,  for  the 
purposes  of  thought,  remembrances  are  often  better  than  percepts,  and 
that  the  pale  and  scanty  images  which  the  mind  creates  are  often  superior 
to  the  fresh  experiences  which  life  presents.  We  often  even  prefer  to 
employ  mental  images,  when  we  might  avail  ourselves  of  actual  obser- 
vations. Very  often  we  take  fresh  observations  for  the  sole  purpose  of 
giving  accuracy  and  assuredness  to  our  ideas  or  mental  representations, 
Often,  when  we  seem  to  ourselves  and  others,  to  generalize  or  reason 
about  things  observed  and  experienced,  we  reason  not  about  the  things, 
but  about  our  ideas  of  them.  We  often  turn  the  fact  into  a  mental  pic- 
ture or  recollection,  even  while  our  eyes,  our  ears,  or  our  attent  conscious- 
ness seem  to  be  occupied  with  a  present  reality. 

The  idea  pre-  Tne  reason  is,  that  the  image,  provided  it  be  correct,  pre- 
h£es  f?han  fSe  sents  to  ^e  ™ind  fewer  elements  than  the  reality,  and 
reality.  therefore  does  not  distract,  but  aids  the  attention  in  the 

activities   of  thought.      Moreover,  the   elements   which  it  includes  are 


§  235.    THE   REPRESENTATIVE    OBJECT — ITS   NATURE  AND   IMPORTANCE.         267 

usually  the  very  elements  or  features  with  which  thought  concerns  itself. 
For  this  reason  recollection  often  guides  thinking,  and  aids  it  in  its  work. 

When  we  change  our  perceptions  into  ideas,  or  ideate  our  intuitions, 
we  retain  only  what  we  attend  to  ;  hence  the  image  presents  fewer  point* 
or  elements  than  the  original.  We  are  likely  to  attend  to  what  is  most 
important,  especially  if  we  bring  to  our  observations  an  eye  instructed  by 
the  previous  training  of  thought,  or  the  experiences  of  scientific  inquiry. 
A  mind  that  is  disciplined  will  of  necessity  direct  the  observations  of 
things  to  those  features  with  which  thought  is  concerned ;  and  these 
points  will  remain  recorded  in  the  memory  for  thought  to  classify,  or  be 
recombined  in  the  imagination,  for  thought  to  invent  and  to  explain. 

In  a  certain  sense,  representation  abstracts  while  it  revives ;  as  it  omits  much  of  what  it 
perceives  or  feels,  and  retains  only  what  it  cares  for. 

When  the  mind  proceeds  to  compare,  to  classify,  to  reason,  and  to  account  for,  it  can 
work  more  readily  with  these  abstracts  from  things  than  with  the  things  themselves ;  because 
the  attention  is  not  disturbed  by  the  feelings  and  desires  which  realities  are  likely  to  awaken ; 
because  unimportant  and  trivial  individual  features  do  not  suggest  accidental  and  distract- 
ing relations,  and  because,  also,  the  ideas  of  things  can  be  summoned  more  rapidly  and 
crowded  more  closely,  and  of  course  compared  more  readily,  than  the  same  number  of  things. 
In  so  simple  an  act  as  to  compare  twenty  apples,  in  respect  to  any  general  feature,  the  imagi- 
nation or  memory  helps  the  eye.  When  we  seem  to  look  upon  the  objects,  we  ponder  upon 
their  images.  Hence,  in  observations  of  things  which  are  accompanied  with  any  comparative 
analysis  or  judgment,  we  close  and  open  the  senses  by  alternate  acts.  We  close  the  sense, 
that  we  may  with  undistracted  thought  think  or  judge  of  the  image  which  it  gives.  Wo 
open  and  use  it  again,  that  we  may  correct  or  fix  the  image  by  or  upon  which  we  think. 

ideas  especially  §  235>  When  tne  range  of  objects  is  wider  than  any  actua, 
useful  in  com-  observations  of  sense  or  consciousness,  when  most  of  the 

parison. 

objects  to  be  compared  and  judged  in  thought,  are  removed 
from  any  direct  inspection  of  present  activity  or  experience,  it  is  obvious 
that  the  materials  on  which  we  work  must  be  images  chiefly.  When  we 
compare  the  flower  or  the  mineral  which  we  see  with  those  which  we 
have  seen  in  places  and  times  that  are  remote,  we  first  ideate  the  flower 
or  mineral  before  us,  in  order  that  it  may  be  susceptible  of  comparison 
with  those  which  are  known  only  as  images.  Things  can  only  be  com- 
pared with  things,  images  with  images ;  things  must  therefore  be  con- 
verted into  or  viewed  as  images,  before  they  can  be  compared  with  what 
are  images  already. 

in  Mpher  gene-  As  toe  mind  widens  its  range  ol  materials  for  thought,  and 
fewertl0element8  r^86S  to  higher  generalizations,  its  images  of  things  will  need 
ire  required.  j.Q  consjg£  of  g^jjj  fewer  features — viz.,  those  only  which  it 
needs  to  use  in  classification  or  reasoning.  So  far  as  it  brings  before  its 
view  concrete  realities  or  individual  examples,  these  need  only  contain 
those  parts  or  elements  which  come  into  use  in  generalization,  induc- 
tion, or  argument.  The  plastic  power  of  representation  here  comes  intc 


268  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §237. 

play,  which  can  readily  omit  all  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  consider  and 
can  easily  supply  every  thing  that  illustration  or  discovery  may  need. 

§  236.  Representation  can  go  so  far  in  its  abstractions  as  to  leave  but  « 
servi  ^atluj.?  the  meagre  outline,  a  mere  skeleton  of  a  concrete  thing,  or  group  of  things. 
schema.  Such  a  skeleton  has  been  called  a  schema.  Such  a  schema  or  outline-image 

has  been  held  not  only  to  be  the  necessary  condition  for  the  formation  and 
use  of  concepts,  but  it  has  been  also  contended  that  it  is  like  the  concept,  in  being  general,  and 
equally  applicable  to  every  individual  thing  to  which  the  concept  is  applicable.  For  example, 
when  we  speak  or  think  of  such  general  terms  or  notions  as  hone,  dog,  or  flower,  it  is  urged 
that  the  mind  frames  a  schema,  or  outline-image  of  the  form  or  other  relations  of  each,  which 
is  equally  suitable  to  every  individual  horse,  dog,  or  flower.  This  schema,  it  is  urged,  differs 
from  the  concept  in  that  it  is  not  divided  or  severed  into  constituent  elements,  each  one  of 
which  is  regarded  as  an  attribute  of  a  substance,  but  it  remains  as  an  extremely  abstracted 
whole,  which  may  be  applied  to  every  individual  horse,  dog,  or  flower.  This  view  contradicts 
the  doctrine  which  we  have  laid  down,  that  the  object  in  representation  is  always  individual, 
and  never  general.  It  is  true,  as  is  asserted,  that  we  usually  connect  some  image  with  a 
general  concept.  We  cannot  easily  use  general  terms,  without  picturing  or  illustrating  them 
to  the  imagination  (cf.  §  424).  But  the  image  of  a  horse  or  dog  need  not  be  general,  because 
it  is  very  scanty  or  meagre  in  its  features.  Suppose  it  to  be  merely  the  outline  of  a  horse's 
form  ;  suppose  it  to  be  furnished  with  a  horse's  ears,  or  mane,  or  tail ;  so  far  as  it  is  imaged, 
it  must  be  individual.  The  reason  why  it  seems  to  be  general,  is,  that  it  is  so  readily  changed 
when  it  is  brought  into  contact  with  a  real  horse.  Being  a  creation  of  the  imagination,  it  can 
be  changed  by  addition  or  omission,  so  as  to  conform  to  the  horse  before  us.  Or,  if  no  real 
horse  is  perceived,  the  individual  i  nage  with  which  we  exemplify  the  concept  is  known  in  all 
the  features  with  which  we  endow  it,  to  stand  for  every  real  horse  which  we  chance  to  perceive, 
or  which  we  choose  to  imagine.  It  is  more  correct  to  say  that  the  schema  is  representative 
rather  than  general.  It  is  capable  of  being  readily  compared  with  every  object  of  its  class, 
and  hence  its  preeminent  utility.  Kant,  Krit.  d.  r.  Vernunft  u.  Prol. ;  Schleiermacher,  Dialektik, 
§  262  ;  Vorlander,  Grundlinien,  pp.  390-392  ;  A.  Helfferich,  Organismm  der  Wissenschaft,  p.  97. 

The  nature  of  the  outline  image,  or  schema,  and  its  relation  to  the  concept,  will  be  still 
further  considered  under  the  concept.  (§  424.) 

We  observe,  at  this  point,  that  it  is  more  than  a  mere  conceit  or  fancy  to  say,  that,  as  we 
rise  from  perception  to  thought,  we  interpose  the  image  or  idea  as  an  intermediate  stage, 
being  less  gross  and  entangling  than  matter,  and  yet  more  substantial,  definite,  and  concrete 
than  thought.  The  image  directs  and  aids  the  concept,  standing,  as  it  does,  midway  be- 
tween  it  and  the  percept.  On  the  other  hand,  the  idea,  especially  when  directed  by  thought, 
reacts  upon  perception  itself,  making  it  more  intelligent  and  productive,  as  it  directs  the  senses 
to  what  features  it  should  attend,  and  often  anticipates  what  it  will  find.  In  this  way  aimless 
efforts  are  spared,  fruitless  voyages  of  discovery  are  avoided,  and  the  energies  of  the  mind  are 
expended  upon  productive  objects. 

8  237.    Not  only  do  images  assist  in  perception  and  thought, 

Images   prepare     ,         ,,  />  T/»  n 

for  and  aid  to  but  they  prepare  for  and  prompt  to  action.  If  we  recall  an 
object  which  formerly  moved  us  to  excited  feeling  and  im- 
pelled us  to  prompt  and  energetic  action,  the  thought  of  the  same  object 
is  fitted  to  excite  us  again  in  a  similar  manner,  in  real  or  mimic  activity, 
in  liody  and  in  soul.  To  the  human  being  who  has  been  trained  as  body 
and  spirit  in  the  experiences  of  life,  thought,  feeling,  and  bodily  action 
severally  suggest  one  another  in  ready  and  inevitable  succession,  and  th« 


§  237.  THE   CONDITIONS    AND   LAWS    OF    REPRESENTATION.  269 

one  element  prompts  and  prepares  the  way  for  the  other.  If  an  action  is 
yet  to  be  performed — if  we  are  to  sling  a  stone,  or  point  a  rifle,  or  throw 
a  quoit,  the  image  of  the  act  and  object  held  before  the  mind  brings  all 
the  muscles  into  position,  and  makes  ready  for  the  act  required  the  instant 
the  act  is  called  for.  Hence,  in  the  discipline  for  feats  of  bodily  dexterity. 
a  vivid  and  concentred  fancy,  a  strong  and  kindling  imagination,  are  of 
essential  service,  as  they  bring  the  powers  into  that  position  which  effective 
activity  requires.  The  same  is  true  of  discipline  to  mental  exertion,  so  far 
as  any  purely  spiritual  activity  depends  on  the  distinct  conception  of  an 
object.  The  thought  of  an  enemy  to  be  assailed,  or  of  a  wrong  to  be 
avenged,  knits  the  muscles,  braces  the  limbs,  and  convulses  the  features. 
The  savage  stamps  with  rage  or  shouts  with  exultation  at  the  pictures 
which  his  fancy  paints  of  his  foe  or  his  friend.  The  cultivated  idealist  is 
convulsed  with  horror  at  the  pictures  which  his  imagination  draws  of  the 
scenes  of  cruelty  which  he  reads  of  or  conceives.  He  acts  over  again,  in 
fancy,  the  part  which  he  himself  is  ready  to  take  in  the  depicted  scene, 
So  intense  and  vivid  are  his  conceptions,  that  he  breaks  out  in  audible 
words  of  execration  or  rebuke,  or  stamps  his  feet  with  indignation,  of 
raises  his  hands  in  horror. 

When  men  are  to  act  in  concert ;  as  to  row,  or  pull,  or  shout  in  unison,  or  to  repel  an 
assault,  or  to  storm  a  battery,  or  in  any  way  to  use  their  united  strength,  their  imagination 
must  be  brought  into  active  service  in  anticipating  beforehand  the  objects  which  will  soon 
present  themselves,  or  the  kind  of  activities  in  which  they  are  to  engage.  The  ideal  is  far 
better  than  the  real  scene  for  the  purposes  of  discipline  and  anticipation.  The  picture  is 
greatly  to  be  preferred  before  the  reality.  The  real  object  may  distract  and  bewilder  as  well 
as  arouse  and  hold  the  attention.  It  may  over-excite,  and  so  unman.  It  may  bring  up  un- 
expected objects,  as  well  as  those  which  are  looked  and  hoped  for.  The  reality,  as  compared 
with  the  idea,  may  hinder  action,  as  it  hinders  thought.  While,  then,  the  idea  cannot  take 
the  place  of  the  reality,  and  discipline,  by  means  of  the  idea,  is  of  little  avail  unless  it  actually 
prepares  for  action,  it  is  essential  to  such  preparation.  Nature  has  provided  for  this  discipline 
by  the  strong  impulse  which  she  awakens  toward  it :  she  secures  great  deeds  by  first  awakening 
grand  pictures  in  the  excited  fancy. 


CHAPTER  m. 

THE     CONDITIONS    AND    LAWS     OF     REPRESENTATION — THE    ASSOCIATION     O* 

IDEAS. 

WE  have  noticed  already  that  the  soul,  in  representation,  as  in  all  its  acts  or  functions,  ia 
limited  to  fixed  conditions,  and  acts  according  to  established  laws.  Though,  at  first,  it 
seems  to  evoke  its  objects  from  the  non-existing  and  the  unreal,  on  a  second  and  a  nearer 
view,  it  is  clear  from  our  conscious  experience,  that  what  is  represented  is  immediately 
dependent  on  the  object  or  objects  which  at  the  instant  previous  were  present  to  it* 


270  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §239. 

apprehension  or  experience.  What  is  recalled  at  any  moment,  though  recalled  by  th« 
goul's  proper  activity,  is  always  recalled  by  means  of  the  cognitions  and  feelings  which 
the  soul  possessed  the  moment  previous. 


Association  of  §  238t  ^e  general  ^act  or  truth  that  ideas  are  represented 
feet.8"  various  ky  means  of  ideas  now  present,  is  usually  designated  under 
tem18-  the  general  title  or  phrase  of  c  the  association  of  ideas?  A 

more  careful  consideration  of  the  principle  or  law  under  which  the  represen- 
tation of  the  past  by  the  present  is  conceived  to  be  possible  and  known  as 
actual,  leads  to  the  investigation  of  what  are  called  the  laws  of  associa* 
tion. 

The  term  suggestion  has,  by  some  writers,  been  preferred  to  associa- 
tion. They  prefer  to  say,  one  idea  suggests  another  idea,  rather  than, 
one  idea  is  associated  with  another.  This  preference  is  partly  a  matter 
of  taste  in  words,  and  in  part  is  grounded  on  the  philosophical  theory 
which  one  of  these  terms  is  supposed  to  designate  better  than  the  other. 

Some  object  to  the  phrase,  The  suggestion  or  association  of  ideas,  because  ideas  are  not 
the  only  objects  or  elements  that  are  concerned  ;  real  or  existing  objects  or  phenomena  being 
as  truly  capable  of  exciting  representations  as  the  ideas  or  remembrances  of  things.  Indeed, 
objects  or  acts  perceived  are  usually  more  efficient  than  objects  remembered  or  imagined,  to 
bring  up  associated  images  or  thoughts.  It  will  be  seen,  on  a  nearer  view,  that  this  criticism 
is  more  specious  than  well-grounded.  Besides,  the  phrase  is  too  well  established  in  general 
use  to  be  easily  set  aside,  even  though  the  reasons  for  so  doing  were  vastly  stronger  than  they 
are  found  to  be  in  fact. 

8  239.    To  seek  to  determine  what  are  the  conditions  and 

Importance  and 

interest  of  the  laws-  of  representation,  is  to  propose  an  inquiry  to  which  we 
are  impelled  by  the  intrinsic  interest  and  even  mystery  with 
which  the  power  itself  and  its  actings  are  invested  to  all  thoughtful 
minds.  To  answer  this  inquiry  by  certain  definite  principles  —  so  far  as 
such  principles  can  be  fixed  —  is  an  essential  prerequisite  to  an  enlightened 
theory  of  each  of  the  special  forms  of  this  power  ;  as  the  memory,  the 
fancy,  and  the  imagination,  in  all  their  varieties.  All  these  so-called  pow- 
ers of  the  soul  are,  as  has  been  explained,  but  special  forms  of  the  general 
power  mentally  to  represent  the  actual  past.  They  must  all  depend  upon 
common  conditions,  and  obey  common  laws.  A  just  and  well-founded 
theory  of  the  association  of  ideas  is  a  necessary  prerequisite  to  a  satisfac- 
tory theory  of  all  these  several  powers.  Representations  are  also  always 
employed  in  the  actings  of  the  other  leading  powers,  viz.,  sense-perception 
and  thought  ;  and  for  this  reason  the  consideration  of  the  laws  which  regu- 
late their  presence  or  absence  is  essential  to  a  complete  elucidation  of  the 
powers  with  which,  at  first,  they  seem  to  have  little  concern. 

Hamilton  observes  (Met.^  Lee.  xxxi.),  that  "  the  scholastic  psychologists  seein  to  have 
regarded  the  succession  in  the  train  of  thought,  or,  as  they  called  it,  the  excitation  of  the 
species,  with  peculiar  wonder,  as  one  of  the  most  inscrutable  mysteries  of  Nature."  "  The 
younger  Scaliger  says  :  '  My  father  declared  that  of  the  causes  of  three  things  in  parti  culai 


§240.  THE    CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    OF    KEPRESENT4.TION.  2'/l 

he  was  wholly  ignorant — of  the  interval  of  fevers,  of  the  ebb  and  flow  of  tie  sea,  and  of 
reminiscence.'  "  "  The  excitation  of  species  is  declared  by  Poncius  '  to  be  one  of  the  most 
difficult  secrets  of  Nature '  (ex  difficilioribus  naturae  arcanis) ;  and  Oviedo,  a  Jesuit  school- 
man, says,  '  Therein  lies  the  very  greatest  mystery  of  all  philosophy '  (maximum  totius  philo> 
sophics  sacramentum)"  Viewed  in  one  aspect,  this  impression  of  mystery  and  the  wonder 
which  it  excites  are  not  at  all  surprising.  Thoughts  and  images  come  and  go  with  the  ap- 
parent caprice  and  lawlessness  of  wizards  and  fairies — now  obtruding  themselves  where  they 
are  not  wanted,  and  then  hiding  themselves  most  provokingly,  notwithstanding  the  most  ear 
nest  desires  and  the  loudest  calls  for  their  return. 

On  the  other  hand,  when  the  movements  of  representation  are   explained. 
Association  used 
to    explain    all     this  explanation  is  taken  to  explain  almost  every  thing  beside  ;  so  largely  do 

lawgr  l    the  coming  and  going  of  represented  objects  enter  into  the  other  phenomena 

of  the  soul.  A  very  considerable  number  of  psychologists,  as  we  have 
already  remarked,  have  accordingly  resolved  all  the  psychical  powers  into  the  operation  of  the 
laws  of  association — viz.,  reasoning,  induction,  the  belief  in  causality  and  adaptation,  and  even 
in  time  and  space.  Some  have  even  resolved  the  conception  of  the  soul  itself,  and  of  its  sei  • 
eral  faculties,  into  the  accumulation  of  associated  and  blended  impressions  of  individual 
objects.  The  association  of  ideas  has  played  a  most  conspicuous  role  in  the  modern  theories 
of  the  soul  and  its  operations,  and  its  influence  upon  such  theories  was  perhaps  never  so  great 
as  at  present.  Next  to  false  or  inadequate  iheories  of  sense-perception,  have  incorrect  theo- 
ries of  the  association  of  ideas  exercised  the  most  mischievous  influence  upon  the  scientific 
views  of  the  soul,  and  indirectly  on  philosophical,  ethical,  and  theological  truth  (cf.  §  43).  It 
becomes,  therefore,  a  matter  of  the  most  serious  consequence  to  attain  correct  conceptions  of 
the  laws  of  the  representative  power. 

§  240.    To  do  this  with  success,  it  is  necessary,  as  in  similar 

Method  of   dis-  ._  .  -       . 

cussion  and  in-  cases,  to  state  at  some  length  the  defective  or  erroneous 
theories  which  have  been  accepted  to  explain  these  opera- 
tions and  laws.  This  will  enable  us  to  pronounce  a  critical  judgment  upon 
their  error,  as  well  as  to  recognize  the  truth  which  they  include,  and 
will  prepare  us  to  develop  a  true  and  satisfactory  theory. 

It  will  be  observed,  that  the  laws  of  association  pertain  to  what  Hamil 
ton  calls  the  reproductive,  as  distinguished  from  the  representative  power; 
in  other  words,  to  those  operations  of  the  soul  which  prepare  objects  for 
the  soul's  apprehension,  as  distinguished  from  the  soul's  act  in  cognizing 
them  when  prepared  and  presented  (§  47).  In  representation  in  all  its 
forms,  this  function  must  necessarily  be  very  prominent  and  important. 
In  representation,  the  soul  prepares  and  furnishes  its  own  objects  of  cogni- 
tion. The  capacity  to  do  this,  and  the  laws  under  which  the  operation  is 
performed,  are  analogous  to  the  psycho-physiological  capacities  and  acts 
of  the  soul  by  which  sense-objects  are  prepared  for  the  soul's  sense-per- 
ceptions. 

The  laws  of  association  have  been  divided  into  two  leading  classes,  the  primary  and 
\econdary,  which  again  may  be  distinguished  as  general  and  special.  They  are  distinguished 
thus :  the  primary  or  general  are  those  which  act  or  tend  to  act  at  all  times  and  in  all  persons, 
while  the  secondary  and  special  are  those  which  determine  the  associations  of  the  same  or 
different  individuals  at  different  times. 

The  theories  which  we  shall  notice  apply  to  both  of  these  classes,  though  more  eminently 
to  the  primary.  We  begin  with 


272  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §241 

I.   The  primary  laws  of  association. 

Association  not  §  241*  ^Q  observe,  (l.)  that  the  theory  is  untenable  which 
bodiidnoerd  aniza^  asserts  tnat  tne  representative  power  has  a  special  bodily 
*ion-  organ  or  instrument,  and  that  its  phenomena  are  explicable 

by  the  mechanical  or  physiological  laws  which  are  appropriate  to  such  an 
organ. 

It  has  been  held  by  not  a  few  writers,  among  whom  Bonnet  was  conspicuous,  that  the 
brain,  or  nervous  system,  is  such  an  organ.  As  what  we  know  in  sense-perception  was  thought 
to  be  or  to  depend  upon  certain  vibrations,  undulations,  or  oscillations  of  the  brain  and  nerves, 
BO  it  was  held  that  the  objects  thus  apprehended  for  the  first  time  can  be  re-presented  to  the 
imagination  or  the  memory,  whenever  these  same  oscillations  or  vibrations  are  resumed  or 
repeated.  A  tendency  to  this  recurrence  or  resumption  is  induced  by  their  having  been  pre- 
viously presumed  in  perception.  Others  maintained  that  every  act  of  perception  effects  a  per- 
manent condition  or  disposition  of  certain  of  these  fibres,  which  is  resumed  again  in  repre- 
sentation. Some  held  that,  in  addition  to  the  oscillating  fibres  of  the  brain,  there  is  also 
present  a  very  delicate  and  sensitive  fluid,  which  is  another  agency  intermediate  between  the 
brain  and  the  soul.  Those  who  held  that  the  soul  is  immaterial,  insisted  that  the  brain  and 
nervous  system  are  simply  its  organ  in  representation,  on  the  action  of  which  the  mind  is  as 
completely  dependent  for  its  images  and  remembrances  in  representation,  as  for  its  objects  in 
perception  it  depends  on  the  organs  of  sense.  Still  greater  plausibility  was  sought  for  this 
theory  by  the  attempt  made  by  some  to  show  that  the  soul  itself  has  a  special  seat  or  organ  in 
the  brain,  by  the  sympathy  of  which  with  the  vibrations  of  the  remaining  portions  all  the  phe- 
nomena were  resolved. 

We  have  already  explained  sufficiently  how  earnestly  the  cerebralists  and  aasociationalisia 
of  recent  times  reassert  the  same  views,  and  seek  to  enforce  them  by  the  aid  of  the  results  of 
modern  physiology. 

Lafacullepar  laquelJe  les  representations  s'op&rent,  est  V imagination.  Mais  les  idees  sont  attaches  aux 
mouvements  des fibres  sensibles.  Pour  qu'une  idee  se  presents  de  nouveau  d  V&me  ilfaut  done,  que  les  fibres 
appropriees  d  cette  idee  soient  mues  de  nouveau.  la  disposition  du  cerveau  d  repeler  ces  mouvements  comlilue 
done  V imagination.  Bonnet,  Essai  de  Psych.,  §213.  Cf.  Essai  Analytique  sur  les  Facultes  de  I'Ame.  Cf 
D.  Hartley,  Observations  on  Man:  his  Frame,  his  Duty,  and  his  Expectations.  3  vols.  London,  1791; 
A.  Tucker,  The  lAght  of  Nature  Pursued,  4  vols.  Cambridge,  IT.  S.,  1831  ;  J.  Priestly,  Disquisitions  relating 
to  Matter  and  Spirit.  London,  1771 ;  A.  Bain,  The  Senses  and  the  Intellect.  London,  1855. 

The  logical  consequences  of  this  theory  would  be,  that  the  soul,  for  the  presence  of  repre- 
sented objects,  is  entirely  dependent  on  the  service  and  agency  rendered  by  this  material 
organ,  and  that  if  it  has  any  activity  or  freedom,  this  can  be  used  only  in  detaining  the  objects 
that  are  presented,  by  retaining  the  organ  or  its  parts  in  those  positions  of  vibration  which  would 
be  necessary  to  keep  the  objects  before  its  view.  Many  of  the  adherents  of  these  views  do  not 
assert  for  the  soul  any  such  activity,  but  resolve  all  its  phenomena  into  the  presence  of  those 
objects  and  states  which  the  varying  condition  of  this  organ,  in  accordance  with  mechanical 
laws,  might  seem  to  require. 

In  view  of  the  theory  that  the  senses  and  the  imagination  were  thus  dependent  npon  the  sensorium, 
i.  c.,  the  brain  and  nervous  system,  these  powers  were  formerly  ascribed  to  the  lower  or  inferior  energy, 
which  was  called  the  animal  soul,  or  the  soul  in  contrast  with  the  spirit  or  higher  and  rational  eoul,  to 
which  the  higher  and  more  spiritual  functions  were  allotted. 

In  modern  times,  since  the  various  sensible  qualities  have  heen  resolved  into  modes  of  motion,  and 
many  physiologists  and  some  psychologists  have  resolved  the  capacities  of  the  sensorium  for  different  sen- 
sations into  a  simple  susceptibility  for  aiower  or  more  rapid  vibrations,  there  has  been  a  renewed  disposi- 
tion to  make  the  representative  power  to  depend  on  revived  vibrations  of  the  nervous  energy.  Such  theories, 
have,  however,  been  usually  carried  out  to  the  bald  materialism  with  which  they  have  a  strong  affinity. 

Dr.  J.  P.  Jessen  (Versuch  e.  wissenchaftl.  Begrundung  d.  Psychologic.  Berlin,  1855),  accepting  the 
physiological  theory  which  finds  in  the  cerebellum  the  organ  of  the  phenomena  of  sense  and  motion,  ha« 


of    ail    §  ^^'    -^  ^ese  theories  fail  to  be  supported,  by  reason  of  a 


§242.  THE    CONDITIONS    AND   LAWS    OF   REPRESENTATION.  278 

made  an  elaborate  attempt  to  show  that  the  cerebellum  must  be  the  organ  of  the  imagination  also,  bj 
me;tns  of  the  impressions  made  upon  it  through  the  sense-perceptions  ;  while  the  cerebrum,  as  the  organ 
of  the  reason,  uses  the  cerebellum,  so  to  speak,  as  the  sensory  of  the  imagination. 

Defect 

anJriolcoiporeai  common  defect.  The  structure  of  the  brain  and  nervous 
theories.  system  in  no  way  indicates  that  they  are  capable  of  the 

vibrations  or  oscillations  which  are  postulated  of  them.  This  structure  is 
not  entirely  fibrous.  What  seem  to  be  fibres,  are  not  capable  of  the  ten- 
sion and  relaxation  which  more  rapid  and  forcible  vibrations,  or  those 
which  are  slower  and  feebler,  would  require.  They  are  not  sufficiently 
numerous  to  answer  to  the  myriads  of  millions  of  states  of  thought  and 
feeling  which  are  represented  in  memory  and  the  fancy.  No  particular 
change  of  the  kind  alleged  has  ever  been  known  to  occur  in  connection 
with  a  represented  object.  We  call  the  eye  and  the  ear  organs  of  sight 
and  hearing,  because,  with  the  observed  conditions  and  the  varying  states 
of  these  organs,  sensations  are  present  or  absent,  or  vary  both  in  quality 
and  in  force  ;  but  never  has  an  undulation  of  the  animal  spirits  been 
observed,  or  even  conjectured,  to  which  might  be  referred  the  remem- 
bered face  of  an  absent  friend,  or  the  vivid  picture  of  a  once-visited  scene. 
No  presumed  vibration  of  any  set  of  fibres  or  nerves  has  ever  been  ob- 
served to  be  connected  with  any  picture  or  remembrance  whatever.  No 
nerve-cell  has  been  known  to  be  formed  in  connection  with  a  picture  fixed 
in  the  memory,  or  a  purpose  decisively  taken.  Again,  the  theory,  if  com- 
plete and  adequate  in  every  other  particular,  would  fail  entirely  to  account 
for  the  creative  energy  of  the  imagination.  Representations  of  this  sort 
are  very  abundant,  and  often  very  vivid  and  forcible  ;  but  how  some  of 
these  fantastic  and  gorgeous  scenes  could  be  provided  for  by  any  dispo- 
sition of  fibres  or  vibrations  of  the  nerves,  it  is  impossible  to  see.  The 
theory  was  evidently  evoked  as  a  necessary  consequence  and  complement 
of  a  similar  theory  devised  to  account  for  the  agency  of  the  brain  and 
nerves  in  the  sense-perceptions.  If  that  theory  is  untenable,  this  mist, 
a  fortiori,  be  rejected.  It  must  be  conceded  however  that 
Facts  relating  to  Certain  conditions  of  the  body  are  connected  with  a  far  rr\ore 

the     connection     .  .    . 

of  the  body  with    intense  activity  oi  tne  representative  power  than  accompa- 

the  imagination         .  ..  T  ..... 

and  memory.  nies  others.  In  other  bodily  states  this  activity  is  excessive, 
irregular,  and  even  uncontrollable.  Experience  and  observation  both  tes- 
tify that  this  power,  in  all  its  forms,  whether  of  memory,  phantasy,  or 
imagination,  both  in  sleep  and  wakefulness,  is  modified  very  greatly  by 
the  organization  and  temporary  condition  of  the  body. 

When  the  body  is  in  health  and  in  a  normal  condition,  memory  "both  acquires  and  gives  up 
its  treasures  with  the  ease  and  exactness  of  instinct  ;  and  imagination  combines  and  creates, 
as  if  by  the  spell  of  an  enchanter,  so  skilfully  as  to  be  herself  surprised  at  her  own  work. 
Under  the  excitement  of  delirium,  the  elevation  of  enthusiasm,  or  the  brief  madness  of  pas- 
ifon,  the  power  to  recall  and  create  seems  almost  to  be  used  bv  another  self  ;  now  mocking  tha 
18 


274  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  244. 

fain  efforts  of  the  man  to  control  the  rush  of  his  too  affluent  fancy,  and  now  suggesting  fo: 
his  service  or  his  delight  unexpected  stores  of  facts  and  fancies.  It  is  in  vain,  at  times,  that 
the  soul  essays  to  retard  or  to  still  the  throng  c  f  unwelcome  images  that  break  in  upon  it  like 
a  succession  of  stormy  waves.  In  sleeplessness  induced  by  an  elation  of  the  nervous  system, 
the  rational  soul  seems  to  be  separated  from  the  imagination,  and  to  become  the  passive  specta 
tor  of  the  strangest  caprices.  We  are  wearied  to  exhaustion  by  the  force  and  persistence 
whh  which  these  fancies  at  once  bewilder  and  overmaster  us.  In  delirium,  the  fancy  seems  to 
have  completely  overmastered  the  rational  soul,  paralyzed  its  functions,  or  frightened  it  from 
asserting  its  rightful  supremacy. 

Kow  these  facts  §  243'  These  phenomena  can  be  accounted  for  by  two  con- 
^  siderations  :  First,  there  is  the  general  truth,  that  the  soul  is 
dependent  for  the  measure  of  force  which  it  has  at  command, 
on  ihe  force  and  normal  activity  of  the  powers  which  maintain  the  cor- 
poreal life.  When  the  bodily  force  is  weakened,  the  force  of  the  mind  is 
oftcsn  weakened  in  all  its  functions  —  of  sense,  representation,  and  thought. 
Thin  general  fact  may  itself  be  inexplicable,  but,  being  assumed  to  be 
true,  it  may  explain  some  of  the  cases  in  which  the  memory  and  imagina- 
tion are  weakened  by  disease,  or  are  nearly  suspended  in  faintness  and 
some)  of  the  forms  of  sleep. 
Any  dxskirbance  Second,  a  disturbance  of  the  functions  and  activities  of  the 

of     tli>  i     bodily 

state  introcoiceo    body  is  attended  with  an  unequal  action  of  the  powers  of 
the  soul.     This  can  in  part  be  accounted  for  by  the  obtrusive 


influence.  oJ  the  sensations  and  other  mental  experiences  which  are  the 
consequence  of  this  unequal  bodily  action.  The  soul  seems  to  have  at  its 
command,  in  any  given  condition,  only  a  certain  quantum  of  attention,  or 
psychical  energy,  which  may  be  evenly  distributed  among  the  various 
activities  of  which  it  is  capable  —  as  sense,  consciousness,  representation, 
and  thought  ;  or,  if  concentrated  into  one,  it  is  thereby  withdrawn  from 
and  incapable  of  the  rest.  It  has  already  been  noticed,  that  we  cannot 
exert  the  utmost  energy  in  hearing  and  seeing  at  the  same  instant  ;  still 
less  can  we  perceive  anct  imagine  or  reason,  at  the  same  instant  and  with 
the  highest  energy  and  effect.  At  one  time  the  body,  in,  health  and  in  its 
normal  state,  is,  as  we  say,  the  ready  servant  of  the  soul  ;  in  other  words, 
all  the  sensations  are  so  agreeable  or  so  gentle  as  to  be  unnoticed,  and  the 
whole  attention  can  be  given  to  other  than  animal  or  sensuous  experiences. 
In  other  conditions,  as  in  extreme  hunger  or  active  pain,  the  sensations  are 
so  absorbing  as  to  exclude  all  energetic  spiritual  activities,  whether  of 
thought  or  feeling.  In  still  other  conditions,  the  generally  dormant  vital 
and  muscular  sensations  may  be  so  positively  obtrusive  as  to  withdraw  or 
depress  the  soul's  caj  acity  to  fix  the  attention  upon  any  other  objects  with 
steadiness  and  effect. 

The  vital  sen-    g  244.    And  yet  these  muscular  or  vital  sense-perceptions, 
may  Ube    though  obtrusive  and  unpleasant  as  sensations,  may  be  so 


links  in  a  ebain  ..   .     ,    „    .  .  •••    a  ,1 

of  associations,     vague  and  indefinite,  as  perceptions,  as  to  serve  chiefly  as  the 


§245.  THE    CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    OF   REPKESENTATION.  275 

suggestors  —  under  the  laws  of  mental  association  —  of  other  images.  We 
ought  never  to  forget  that,  in  all  conditions  of  our  existence,  so  long  at 
we  exist  as  soul  and  body,  these  vague  sensations  of  which  the  body  in 
all  its  parts  is  the  occasion,  form  the  constant  background  on  which  are 
projected  the  more  definite  and  distinctly  remembered  of  our  experiences. 
To  parts  of  this  background,  or  to  the  whole  blended  as  a  single  percep- 
tion, the  more  positive  experiences  may  be  attached  under  the  laws  of 
mental  association.  In  every  moment  of  psychical  act  or  suffering, 
whether  painful  or  pleasant,  whether  presentation,  representation,  or 
thought,  this  complex  of  undefined  sensations  must  be  present  as  a  con- 
stant accompaniment,  and  of  course  as  a  more  or  less  important  element. 
When  these  sensations  become  more  than  usually  active,  through  an  ex- 
cited or  a  diseased  condition  of  the  body,  they  can  suggest  every  image 
with  which  they  have  been  connected  in  the  past  ;  and  by  themselves  and 
through  the  objects  which  they  suggest,  preoccupy  the  whole  force  of  the 
soul's  activity.  The  condition  of  the  body  may  thus  affect  the  whole 
activity  of  the  soul,  by  simply  introducing  unusual  psychical  experiences, 
which  operate  according  to  purely  psychical  laws,  both  in  absorbing  the 
attention  from  the  rational  functions,  and  in  obtruding  a  throng  of  asso- 
ciated images. 

These  considerations  will,  it  is  thought,  explain  many  cases  of  the  sin- 
gular and  almost  capricious  dependence  of  the  memory  upon  the  varying 
conditions  of  the  body. 
The  laws  of  as-    §  245.    (2.)  The  laws  according  to   which  ideas   are   repre- 

eociation  cannot  ,  ..._.  _  -i       -i    •    , 

be   referred  to    sented  to  the  mind  cannot  be  resolved  into  any  attractive 
ai^awels    force  —  as  is  conceived  by  many  —  in  the  ideas  themselves,  by 


which  they  suggest  or  revive  one  another.  This  theory  dif- 
fers from  the  one  just  discussed,  in  making  the  ideas,  as  psychical  agents, 
to  exert  a  force  and  attractive  tendency  similar  to  that  which  was  ascribed 
to  the  brain  or  its  physiological  functions. 

Many  of  the  explanations  given  of  the  phenomena  of  association,  and 
much  of  the  language  in  which  they  are  expressed,  are  fitted  to  leave  the 
impression  that  ideas  attract  one  another  somewhat  as  two  drops  of  water 
tend  to  run  together,  or  two  globules  of  quicksilver  rush  into  one  ;  or  as 
if,  when  the  larger  drop  or  globule  is  divided  in  whole  or  in  part,  the 
second  portion  draws  the  other  after  itself.  Whether  or  not  the  authors 
of  these  explanations  and  of  this  language  would  admit  such  a  construc- 
tion of  them,  it  is  certain  that  the  doctrine  of  association  and  its  laws  has 
been  presented  in  such  a  form  as  to  justify  this  construction,  and  to  make 
t  necessary  to  guard  against  it. 

Thus  Hobhes  writes  :  "All  fancies  [phantasms]  are  notions  within  us,  relics  of  those  made  in  the 
sense  ;  and  those  notions  that  immediately  succeeded  one  another  in  the  sense  continue  also  together  aftei 
»ense  ;  in  HO  much  as  the  former,  coming  again  to  take  place,  and  he  predominant,  the  latter  followeth,  hy 
coherence  of  the  matter  moved,  in  such  manner  as  water  upon  a  plane  table  is  drawn  which  way  any  on« 
cart  of  it  is  guided  by  the  finger."  (Lev.  p.  i.  ch.  iii  j  cf.  Hum.  Nat.,  ch.  iii.  $  2  ;  and  Eton.  Phil,  ch.  XXT 


276  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §246 

1 8.  Of  the  ancient  philosophers,  Carneades  compared  the  suggestion  of  thoughts  "to  a  chain;  in  which 
one  link  is  dependent  on  another."  Themistius,  as  translated  by  Hamilton,  says :  "  For  as  in  a  chain,  ii 
one  link  be  moved,  the  link  therewith  connected  will  of  necessity  be  moved,  and  through  that  the  next 
again,  and  so  forth,  this  likewise  is  the  case  in  those  impressions  of  which  the  soul  is  the  subject."  Johan- 
nes Major,  according  to  Hamilton,  says  :  "  Una  notitia  trahit  alteram,  ut  seta  sutoris  filum."  Locke  says  , 

'<  Some  of  our  ideas  have  a  natural  correspondence  and  connection  one  with  another : Ideas  that  ic 

themselves  are  not  at  all  of  kin,  come  to  be  BO  united  in  some  men's  minds  that  'tis  very  hard  to  separata 
them  ;  they  always  keep  in  company,  and  the  one  no  sooner  at  any  time  comes  into  the  understanding, 
but  its  associate  appears  with  it,  and  if  they  are  more  than  two  which  are  thus  united,  the  whole  gang 
always  inseparable,  show  themselves  together."  (Essay,  B.  ii.  c.  xxxiii.  §5).  Hume  says:  "These  are, 
therefore,  the  principles  of  union  or  cohesion  among  our  simple  ideas,  and  in  the  imagination  supply  th« 
place  of  that  inseparable  connection  by  which  they  are  united  in  our  memory.  Here  is  a  kind  of  attraction, 
•which  in  the  mental  world  will  be  found  to  have  as  extraordinary  effects  as  in  the  natural,  and  to  show 
itself  in  as  ma.ny  and  as  various  forms.  Its  effects  are  everywhere  conspicuous  ;  but  as  to  its  causes,  they 
are  mostly  unknown,  and  must  be  resolved  into  original  qualities  of  human  nature,  which  I  pretend  not  to 
explain."  Hum.  Nat.,  B.  i.  p.  i.  Sec.  iv.)  James  Mill  (Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind,  chap,  iii.),  says : 
"  When  two  or  more  ideas  have  been  often  repeated  together,  and  the  association  has  become  very  strong, 
they  sometimes  spring  up  in  such  close  combination  as  not  to  be  distinguishable.  Some  cases  of  sensation 
are  analogous.  For  example  :  when  a  wheel,  on  the  seven  parts  of  which  the  seven  prismatic  colors  ar« 
respectively  painted,  is  made  to  revolve  rapidly,  it  appears  not  of  seven  colors,  but  of  one  uniform  color- 
white.  By  the  rapidity  of  the  succession  the  several  sensations  cease  to  be  distinguishable ;  they  run,  as  it 
were,  together,  and  a  new  sensation,  compounded  of  all  the  seven,  but  apparently  a  single  one,  is  the  result. 
Ideas,  also,  which  have  been  so  often  conjoined,  that  whenever  one  exists  in  the  mind  the  others  immedi- 
ately exist  along  with  it,  seem  to  run  into  one  another — to  coalesce,  as  it  were,  and  out  of  many  to  form 
one  idea  ;  which  idea,  however,  in  reality  complex,  appears  to  be  no  less  simple  than  any  of  those  of  which 
it  is  compounded,"  etc.,  etc.  The  whole  passage  is  accepted  by  J.  Stuart  Mill,  in  his  Exam,  of  Sir  William 
Hamilton's  Philosophy,  ch.  xiv.,  with  marvellous  naivete,  as  though  it  were  an  almost  original  exposition  oi 
the  subject.  The  doctrine  of  "  inseparable  associations,"  thus  enounced,  is  with  him  not  only  an  axiom, 
but  the  axiom,  which  is  the  'open  sesame'1  of  all  metaphysical  and  psychological  problems. 

The  most  consistent  and  thorough-going  advocate  of  this  theory  of  the  attractive  force 
Herbart's  Theo-  of  ideas,  as  ideas,  either  in  ancient  or  modern  times,  is  Herbart  (cf.  §43).  All  the 
ry  of  the  attrac-  mental  phenomena,  and  even  the  several  powers  of  the  mind,  he  accounts  for  by  the 
tion  oi  ideas.  actions  and  reactions  of  the  mind's  ideas.  Ideas  are  strengthened  when  they  recur 

often  enough  to  gather  the  force  which  blends  them  into  one  or  arranges  them  in  a 
permanent  series.  After  being  experienced,  they  remain  in  a  condition  of  constant  tension,  ready  on  the 
slightest  occasion  to  rush  back  into  the  possession  or  rather  the  presence  of  the  soul ;  and  again  pressing 
hard  to  return  as  soon  as  a  kindred  object  of  perception  or  representation  shall  attract  them  back.  The 
relations  of  the  ideas  to  one  another,  both  static  and  dynamic,  are  expressed  by  Herbart  in  mathematical 
formulas,  for  the  purpose  of  bringing  psychology  into  scientific  relations  with  physics,  which,  in  his  view, 
tends  to  confirm  the  theory,  that  the  attractive  and  repellent  force  exists  between  ideas  as  euch,  and  not 
iu  the  action  of  the  soul  of  which  they  are  simply  states  or  energies. 

This  theory  is  open  to  similar  critical  objections  with  the  one  which  follows,  with  which  it  is  intimately 
allied.    We  observe  next,  that 

§  246.    (3.)  The  conditions  and  laws  of  representation  cannot 

Nor     into     the     °  v     '  . 

force  of  relations    be  referred  solely,  or  even  primarily,  to  the  force  of  certain 
classes  of  relations  which  exist  between  ideas.     This  theory 

is,  in  its  principle,  not  superior  to  the  literal  or  figurative  ascription  of 

attractive  force  to  the  ideas  themselves. 

Aristotle  enumerates  three  of  these  relations  which  const! 

These    relations  »"•»•••-  • 

variously  class-  tute  the  laws  of  representation,  viz. :  Contiguity  in  time  and 
space,  resemblance,  and  contrariety  (De  Mem.  et  Eem.,  c.  ii. 
§  viii.).  Hume  asserts  the  three  laws  of  association  to  be  resemblance, 
contiguity  in  time  and  place,  and  cause  and  effect.  Others  increase  this 
number  to  seven,  viz.  :  Coexistence  or  consecution  in  time  /  contiguity  in 
apace  /  dependence  as  cause  and  effect,  means  and  end,  whole  and  part ;  re- 
semblance or  contrast  /  produced  by  the  same  power  or  conversant  about  tht 
Kame  object;  signified  and  signifying ;  designated  by  the  same  sound 


§246.  THE    CONDITIONS   AND  LAWS   OF   REPRESENTATION.  27. 

Others  contract  them  to  two :  Simultaneity  and  affinity.  St.  Augustine, 
and  very  many  others,  have  reduced  them  to  the  single  law  of  redintegra 
tion,  or  the  formula  that  '  a  part  of  a  mental  state  tends  to  bring  back  and 
restore  all  the  parts  which  originally  composed  it.' 

All  these  laws  are  founded  in  truth.  All  the  formula  which  enounce 
them  describe  facts  of  consciousness.  Whether  they  fully  exhaust  the 
subject,  and  bring  us  to  the  ultimate  principle  or  law  of  the  mind's  activ- 
ity, must  be  reserved  for  further  inquiry. 

Examples  can  easily  be  adduced  of  the  representation  of 
of  ideas  under  all  of  these  relations.  We  begin  with  those  of 
place.  When  I  recall  a  single  building  upon  a  familiar 
street,  I  think  at  once  of  the  building  adjoining,  and  so  on,  of  each  that 
is  next.  When  a  portion  or  feature  of  a  landscape  is  recalled,  as  a  part 
of  the  falls  of  Niagara,  or  a  single  peak  of  the  White  Mountains,  the 
entire  scene  comes  back  to  the  view  of  the  mind,  either  as  a  a  whole  or  in 
its  several  parts. 

Contiguity  of  time  is  illustrated  by  the  following :  When  a 
Relations  of  single  event  is  thought  of,  which  occurred  upon  some  day 
of  my  life  made  memorable  by  joy  or  sorrow,  that  event  sug- 
gests the  others  which  occurred  in  connection  with  itself — either  before  or 
after — till  the  whole  history  of  the  day  has  passed  in  review  before  the  eye 
of  the  mind.  Words  call  up  the  sentences  in  which  they  have  been  heard 
or  read ;  phrases  bring  back  sentences  ;  sentences,  a  part  or  the  whole  of 
a  discourse.  A  note  of  music  suggests  the  snatch  of  melody  in  which  it 
has  been  heard ;  this  suggests  the  air,  till  the  whole  tune  is  repeated  to 
the  ear  of  the  mind. 

Objects  that  were  successive  in  time,  may  also  have  been 
Bothinconjunc-  contiguous  in  place ;  as  when  the  parts  of  an  imposing  pro- 
cession were  seen  in  succession,  passing  beneath  the  same 
arch,  or  entering  the  same  edifice.  In  such  a  case  the  relations  of  time 
and  place  connect  these  objects,  and  by  means  of  them  both  these  objects 
may  be  recalled  in  order. 

Inasmuch  as  all  objects  adjacent  in  space  must,  if  perceived  with  atten- 
tion, be  originally  perceived  by  acts  successive  to  one  another  in  time,  it 
may  and  generally  will  happen  that  when  they  are  recalled  as  contiguous, 
they  may  also  be  recalled  as  successively  perceived,  and  thus  both  the 
relations  of  time  and  place  may  act  conjointly.  Thus,  if  I  examine  the 
interior  of  a  large  public  hall  or  church,  I  may  walk  around  it  :>n  my  feet, 
drawing  near  to  every  part  which  I  inspect ;  or,  standing  in  one  place,  I 
may  survey  every  object  by  successive  applications  of  the  eye.  But  these 
objects  are  also  contiguous  in  place,  and  form  together  a  whole  of  space. 
As  such,  they  may  be  grasped  by  the  eye  at  a  single  view — so  much  of 
the  interior  as  the  eye  can  survey — the  whole  and  the  parts  together, 
When  the  whole  "  rises  like  an  exhalation  "  before  the  recreating  eye  of 


278  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  246. 

the  fancy,  it  may  be  by  the  aid  of  one  or  both  of  these  relations.  Indeed, 
it  might  be  urged  that  all  objects  adjacent  in  space,  whether  viewed  by  a 
single  or  by  successive  acts  of  attention,  must  be  also  connected  under  the 
relations  of  coexistence  or  of  succession  in  time,  and  the  relation  of  time 
must  be  always  present  and  controlling. 

The  relations  of  similarity  and  of  contrast  serve  to  recall 
similarity  And  objects.  If  I  see  a  house  like  the  one  in  which  I  lived  when 

contrast.  „  ..       .      .         ,,  , 

a  child — it  is  of  no  consequence  when  or  where — it  causes 
me  to  think  of  my  early  home.  If  I  see  a  face  that  resembles  the  face  of 
a  dear  but  absent  friend,  it  brings  that  friend  to  mind.  If  a  man  sees  a 
horse  like  one  which  he  formerly  owned,  or  a  lady  sees  a  dress  which  in 
material  or  color  is  like  one  which  she  has  worn,  the  horse  or  dress  are 
instantly  recalled.  The  likeness  may  be  of  the  whole  to  the  whole,  or  of 
a  part  to  a  part ;  as  of  a  house  to  a  house,  a  mountain  to  a  mountain,  a 
tree  to  a  tree,  a  face  to  a  face,  in  general  outline  or  expression  ;  or  again, 
as  of  a  door  or  roof  (the  part  of  a  house)  to  a  door  or  roof;  or  of  a  sin- 
gle feature  in  the  face  to  another  feature. 

So,  objects  that  are  unlike,  especially  such  as  are  strikingly  contrasted, 
recall  one  another.  Cold  makes  us  think  of  heat,  light  reminds  us  of 
darkness,  joy  of  sorrow  and  sorrow  of  joy,  sweet  of  bitter  and  bitter  of 
sweet. 

The  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  constantly  recognized  in 
Relations  of  our  experience.  The  cause  may  recall  the  effect,  or  the  effect 

cause  and  effect.  . 

the  cause.  Fire  makes  me  think  of  heat,  and  ice  of  cold. 
The  wound  under  which  I  suffer,  recalls  the  blow  which  caused  it.  The 
gift  which  I  enjoy,  brings  to  mind  the  kindness  of  the  giver.  The  treach- 
ery of  Arnold  suggests  the  death  of  Major  Andre.  The  heroic  devotion 
of  Florence  Nightingale  brings  to  view  the  relief  and  comfort  of  sick  and 
wounded  soldiers ;  then  is  suggested  their  gratitude,  and  then  the  admira- 
tion which  her  example  has  commanded,  and  the  imitation  to  which  it  has 
prompted. 

Under  cause  and  effect,  and  dependent  upon  it,  is  the  rela- 
of  means  and  ^ion  of  means  and  ends.  Any  instrument  or  contrivance  sug- 

ends.  etc. 

gests  the  use  for  which  it  was  devised.  Thus,  a  fire-engine 
makes  us  think  of  a  conflagration ;  a  locomotive,  of  the  drawing  of  a 
railway  train  ;  a  thumbscrew,  or  a  case  of  surgical  instruments,  of  torture 
or  amputation.  The  thought  of  an  end  suggests  the  possible  or  necessary 
means.  If  a  weight  is  to  be  raised,  or  a  building  is  to  be  moved,  we 
think  of  a  lever,  or  a  combination  of  screws  and  rollers.  If  we  are  in 
difficulty  or  danger,  the  mind  is  occupied  exclusively  with  all  the  possible 
methods  of  extrication  or  deliverance.  When  our  energies  are  quickened 
by  fear,  necessity,  or  hope,  there  rush  to  our  thoughts  every  conceivable 
expedient  of  which  we  have  ever  heard  or  read. 

These  three  or  four  relations  are  the  laws  of  associations  which  are 


§  247.  THE   CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    OF    REPRESENTATION,  279 

more  commonly  recognized.  To  these,  three  other  laws  have  been  added, 
which  have  been  already  named.  Operations  or  objects  of  the  same  power 
or  faculty,  suggest  one  another,  and  the  faculty  concerned.  The  sign  sug- 
gests the  thing  signified,  and  the  thing  signified  the  sign.  Objects  acci- 
dentally denoted  by  the  same  sound  are  associated.  A  little  attention  will 
convince  any  one  that  these  may  find  their  place  either  under  the  law  of 
cause  and  effect,  or  under  the  very  comprehensive  relation  of  contiguity 
of  space  and  time. 

The  attempt  to  increase  the  number  of  the  relations  that  are  conceived  to 
Are  not  other  operate  as  laws  of  association  and  conditions  of  representation,  most  natu 
potable  ?  SUP"  ra^v  suggests  tne  inquiry,  whether  there  is  any  special  charm  in  the  three  or 

four  relations  of  resemblance,  contrast,  contiguity  of  space  and  time,  and 
causation,  which  invests  these  alone  with  efficacy  in  the  recovery  of  ideas.  We  ask  at  once, 
Why  may  not  any  other  relations  serve  as  well  as  these  ?  Why,  of  the  two  objects  that  are 
connected  by  any  relations  whatever,  may  not  each  suggest  its  correlate  ?  We  find,  in  point 
of  fact,  that  this  is  so — that  objects  connected  by  many  special  relations,  as  of  premise  "and 
conclusion,  evidence  and  inference,  do  recall  each  other.  We  discover,  moreover,  that  the 
objects  related  as  mutually  causes  and  effects  must  be  contemplated  as  such,  in  order  that  they 
may  suggest  one  another.  In  other  words,  they  must  have  been  connected  in  the  mind  as 
causes  and  effects,  that  it  may  be  possible  for  one  to  recall  the  other.  If  they  have  not  been  thus 
known,  or  cannot  readily  be  thus  known,  the  one  is  impotent  to  recall  the  other.  For  exam- 
ple, oxygen  suggests  the  rusting  of  iron,  or  the  increase  of  combustion,  or  the  purification  of 
the  blood,  to  the  mind  that  has  known  that  the  one  is  a  cause  and  the  other  is  an  effect ;  but 
to  one  ignorant  of  these  relations  of  oxygen,  it  would  have  no  such  suggesting  power. 

This  fact  leads  us  at  once  to  the  inquiry  whether  the  power  of  one  related 
Cannot  these  re-  . 

latioi  s    he    re-     object  to  recall  another  object  is  not  derived  entirely  from  the  circumstance 

'  that  the  two  have  been  connected  by  the  mind's  previous  activity  ?  In  other 
words,  it  suggests  the  theory  that  the  conditions  and  laws  of  representation  do 
not  depend  upon  the  attractive  force  of  the  objects  or  ideas  themselves,  nor  upon  the  power 
of  relations  as  relations  in  a  smaller  or  greater  number,  but  upon  the  subjective  energy  of  the 
mind  in  uniting  them,  or  upon  the  single  circumstance  that  the  mind  has  bound  them  together 
bv  some  previous  activity  of  its  own. 

§  247.  (4).  Philosophers  have  united  all  these  relations  under 
oiu red"  what  they  have  called  the  law  of  redintegration,  which  is 

thus  announced :  Objects  that  have  been  previously  united 
as  parts  of  a  single  mental  state,  tend  to  recall  or  suggest  one  another. 
Redintegration,  as  here  used,  is  equivalent  to  the  complete  restoration  of 
the  whole,  on  condition  of  the  presence  of  one  or  more  of  its  parts.  This 
law  was  announced  by  St.  Augustine,  by  Wolf,  by  Malebranche,  by  J.  G. 
E.  Maas,  and  is  accepted  with  some  qualification  by  Sir  William  Hamilton 

It  is  an  interesting  and  much-vexed  question,  whether  this  law  will  meet  and 
Will  this  explain     explain  all  the  special  cases  of  representation.     If  we  concede  that  the  three 
&11  these^particu-     Qr  four  jawg  Qr  reiut;ons  enumerated  by  Hume  and  others  cover  and  compre- 
hend every  supposable  instance  of  recall,  and  attempt  to  resolve  them  all  inU 
the  law  of  redintegration,  we  shall  find  the  following  results : 


280  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §247 

(a.)  Objects  contiguous  in  time  present  no  difficulty.     Indeed,  the  law  of 

The  relations  of    redintegration  might  be  viewed  as  only  another  expression  for  the  law  thai 

c1TusaPtTonand    objects  conjoined  in  time  tend  to  restore  or  suggest  one  another,  inasmuch  aa 

the  parts  and  the  whole  respectively  must  have  been  united  as  contiguous  in 

time. 

(b.)  Objects  adjacent  in  space,  as  has  already  been  observed,  usually  come  under  the  rela- 
tion and  iavr  of  contiguity  in  time,  and  are  therefore  easily  accommodated  to  the  law  of  redin- 
tegration. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  that  a  whole  and  parts  in  time  directly,  and  in  time  indirectly 
through  space,  are  given  in  the  same  instantaneous  act,  or  by  a  succession  immediately  conse- 
quent. That  successive  objects  in  time  are  capable  of  being  bound  up  as  wholes,  is  obvioua 
from  experience.  When  we  so  learn  as  to  recall  the  successive  words  which  make  a  sentence, 
we  either  maintain  an  apprehension  of  the  constitutive  relation  which  they  all  have  to  the 
whole,  while  we  are  hearing  or  reading  each  part,  or  we  bind  them  into  a  whole  by  a  single 
act  of  review  or  repetition.  In  the  same  way,  when,  by  successive  acts  in  time,  we  master  all 
the  parts  of  some  whole  in  space,  as  of  a  building,  a  landscape,  or  a  complex  mathematical 
figure,  we  give  unity  to  the  whole. 

(c.)  The  most  of  the  cases  in  which  objects  are  recalled  under  the  relation  of  cause  and 
effect,  will  readily  be  solved  by  the  law  of  redintegration!  As  has  already  been  intimated, 
objects  must  previously  have  been  connected  as  cause  and  effect,  in  order  to  be  recalled  by  the 
force  of  this  relation.  Indeed,  objects  are  known  as  causes  by  the  effects  which  they  produce. 
Effects  are  known  as  such  by  being  referred  to  other  objects  or  agents  as  their  causes.  In 
many  instances,  even,  it  is  only  through  this  relation  that  they  are  connected  at  all.  But  in 
order  to  be  connected  as  cause  and  effect,  so  as  to  be  recalled  the  one  by  the  other,  they  must 
first  have  been  united  under  this  relation  in  a  previous  mental  act ;  and  if  so,  they  come  at 
once  under  the  law  of  redintegration. 

What  is  true  of  causes  and  effects,  is  still  more  obvious  of  means  and  ends.  A  meana 
can  only  be  known  as  such  by  its  relation  to  the  end  which  it  is  adapted  to  promote  or  bring 
to  pass.  That  is,  it  must  be  thought  of  in  connection  with  the  end,  as  the  camels  which  buoy 
up  a  ship,  or  the  diving-bell  which  enables  a  diver  to  breathe  and  labor  under  water.  The 
game  is  true  of  premises  and  conclusions,  data  and  inferences,  or  the  so-called  logical  relations, 
all  of  which  are  referable  to  the  general  relation  of  cause  and  effect. 

(d.)  The  relations  of  similarity  and  contrast  present  some  difficulty..  When 
The  relation  of  I  see  a  face  never  seen  before,  at  once  the  thought  flashes  upon  me,  '  That 

Bio^^difficulfy?"     face  is  like  the  face  of  a  friend  lonS  absent  or  dead  5 '  or  when  I  see  a  horse 
which  strikingly  resembles  in  color,  form,  or  action,  another  horse  which  I 

formerly  owned,  and  the  image  of  that  horse  is  called  to  mind,  the  objects  that  recall,  and 
tho?e  which  are  recalled,  were  never  conjoined  in  fact.  In  many  cases  of  similarity,  the  pre- 
vious conjunction  of  the  resembling  objects  is  possible,  and  the  law  of  redintegration  may  bo 
feadily  applied,  but  in  instances  such  as  have  been  adduced,  we  seem  foiled  in  the  effort  to 
appW  it.  In  view  of  these  facts,  the  law  of  similarity  seems  at  first  to  be  an  original  and 
independent  law,  and  to  take  its  place  as  such  by  the  side  of  the  law  of  redintegration. 

Others,  as  Maas  (  Versuch  uber  die  Einbildungskraft),  have  sought  to  bring  h 
Hou  the  diffl-  under  tne  ^me  by  the  following  solution  :  What  we  see  in  the  resembling 
culty  is  resolved,  face,  or  fhe  resembling  horse,  is  some  special  and  separable  feature  or 

peculiarity,  one  or  more.  Let  this  be  called  a,  and  let  the  remaining  features 
or  peculiarities  be  called  b.  Let  ah1  the  observed  features  or  characteristics  of  the  same,  both  the 
resembling  and  the  non-resembling,  be  called  A.  Let  the  face  or  the  horse  never  seen  before 
be  designated  by  B.  When  B  is  seen,  the  part  a  is  seen  as  a  separable  constituent,  for  by  the 
supposition  it  attracts  special  attention.  The  first  act  is  to  perceive  B ;  the  next  act,  to  notice 
a,  the  resembling  feature  ;  but  a  has  before  been  conjoined  with  6,  giving  the  total  A.  As 
soon  as  the  past  a  is  apprehended,  it  brings  back  its  associate  bt  and  A  is  therefore  recalled 


§249.  THE    CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    OF   KEPRESENTATION  28! 

When,  for  example,  I  look  at  a  portrait  of  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  I  am  reminded  of  its  likeness  to 
ine  portrait  of  Queen  Elizabeth,  because  of  the  ruff  which  is  about  the  neck  of  each,  which  in 
this  case  is  the  only  common  feature,  and  attracts  at  once  the  attention.  The  ruff  brings  back 
every  thing  besides  in  her  Majesty's  portrait — the  head-dress,  the  features,  the  sceptre,  the 
robes,  etc.,  etc.,  till  the  whole  is  restored.  So  far  as  the  process  of  association  is  concerned, 
it  is  urged,  it  makes  no  difference  whether  the  separable  features  are  or  are  not  actually  divisible 
in  space ;  they  must  be  separated  and  conjoined  in  thought,  in  order  to  be  the  medium  by 
which  the  attendant  parts  are  brought  to  the  mind  If  this  solution  is  accepted,  the  law  of 
redintegration  is  established  as  the  one  comprehensive  and  sufficient  law  of  representation. 
In  other  words,  the  law  of  representation  would  be,  'objects  which  have  been  previously 
united  as  a  part  of  a  single  mental  state,  tend  to  recall  or  suggest  one  another.' 

The  parts  and    §  248'    Shall  this  be  accepted  as  the  law  ?     Before  this  ques- 
but    t^on  ig  answered>  one  point  needs  to  be  noticed :   The  part 


similar.  of  a  mental  state  which  is  said  to  recall  or  tend  to  recall  the 

whole,  is  not  literally  the  same  which  has  previously  been  an  object  to  the 
mind.  Every  time  the  mind  apprehends  either  a  part  or  the  whole,  it  haa 
a  new  percept  or  image,  whether  partial  or  total.  If,  having  seen  two 
resembling  horses  together,  I  afterward  see  one,  I  am  impelled  at  once  to 
think  of  the  other ;  or  if  the  sight  of  a  third  resembling  horse  makes  me 
think  of  one  or  both,  there  is  to  the  mind  in  every  instance  a  new  object 
presented  and  pictured.  The  percept  of  the  same  horse  taken  in  succes- 
sive moments,  or  at  long  intervals,  is  mentally  conceived  not  as  the  same, 
but  as  a  similar  mental  entity  or  object.  All  its  force  to  attract,  or  suggest, 
or  recall  another  object,  comes  not  from  the  sameness  of  the  part  or  the 
whole  objectively  viewed,  but  from  the  similarity  of  the  two  or  more 
mental  percepts  or  mental  images  regarded  subjectively,  or  as  the  products 
of  the  mind's  similar  activities.  Whatever  this  tendency,  or  readiness,  or 
force  may  be,  it  is  derived  entirely  from  the  mind's  own  activity,  and  not 
at  all  from  the  sameness  of  the  objects  as  parts  or  wholes.  The  mind 
thinks,  or  tends  to  think,  of  a,  when  it  perceives  or  thinks  of  #,  because  it 
has  previously  acted  in  a  similar  activity,  in  whole  or  in  part.  When  a 
occurs  to  it,  whether  in  perception  or  thought,  a  certain  form  of  partial 
subjective  activity  begins,  which  involves,  by  reason  of  the  fact  that  the 
like  activity  has  been  previously  experienced,  a  greater  facility  of  repetition. 
One  act  of  knowledge,  as  has  been  previously  explained,  differs  from 
another  act  or  state  of  knowledge  by  the  mental  object  which  it  produces. 
One  act  of  knowledge  is  similar  to  another,  in  whole  or  in  part,  as  it  forms 
in  apprehension  a  similar  mental  object  by  the  application  of  attentive 
effort.  One  act  of  knowledge  is  similar  to  another,  according  as  the 
objects  thus  produced  are  similar  in  whole  or  in  part.  Even  when  the 
object,  as  in  two  acts  of  perception,  is  one  and  the  same,  the  mental  acts 
and  products  are  only  similar,  and  therefore  are  two. 

The  explanation  §  249»  The  law  of  redintegration,  as  ordinarily  phrased  or 
jvc^but^n  the  enounced,  is  liable  to  the  qualification  which  was  noticed  in 

n.md'S  activity.      g  ^  ^  ^^  nQ   attractiye    force    can  be   affirmed   or   COn- 


282  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §249. 

chived  to  pertain  to  ideas  as  such.  Objects  or  ideas  have  of  themselves  no 
greater  force  or  tendency  to  restore  those  which  with  themselves  made  up 
a  mental  state,  than  they  have  to  attract  one  another.  The  force  in  the 
final  analysis  must  come  from  and  reside  in  the  mind  whose  products  they 
are. 

It  will  be  observed,  on  reflection,  that  the  law  of  similarity,  so  far  from 
being  brought  under  the  law  of  redintegration  by  this  analysis,  brings  this 
very  law  in  subjection  to  itself,  because,  when  we  correct  the  reading  of 
this  law,  we  find  that  the  same  is  only  another  phrase  for  the  similar. 

While,  then,  no  objection  can  be  made  to  the  law  of  redinte- 

The  real  expla- 

nation. How  gration  as  a  popular  expression  of  the  comprehensive  con- 
enounced. 

dition  or  principle  of  representation,  it  must  be  rejected  as 

defective,  because  it  overlooks  the  real  principle.  This  is,  to  be  found  in 
the  comprehensive  general  fact  or  law,  that  the  mind  tends  to  act  again 
more  readily  in  a  manner  or  form  which  is  similar  to  any  in  which  it  has 
acted  before,  in  any  defined  exertion  of  its  energy. 

As  the  result  of  our  analysis,  we  accept  this  as  the  principle  which 
comprehends  the  so-called  laws  of  association.  We  have  seen  that  these 
Laws  are  not  physiological,  but  psychical;  that  the  attractive  force  by 
which  one  idea  is  said  to  be  able  to  recall  another,  does  not  lie  in  the  ideas 
as  such,  viewed  as  separate  from  the  mind's  energy  in  producing  or  be- 
holding them  :  nor  does  it  lie  in  the  relations  as  such  under  which  the 
objects  were  connected  in  the  mind's  previous  act  of  uniting  them,  but  in 
the  ultimate  truth  that,  in  whatever  way  the  mind  may  act,  it  thereby  is 
enabled  to  act  in  a  similar  manner  a  second  time.  Its  original  act  is 
always  complex,  including  objects  separated  and  united,  as  parts  and  as  a 
whole,  by  definable  relations.  If  the  mind  cognizes  a  part  of  any  of  these 
wholes,  it  begins  to  act  in  a  way  similar  to  that  in  which  it  has  acted 
before.  The  tendency  to  finish  the  whole  of  the  act  thus  begun  explains 
the  principle  that  underlies  the  laws  of  association. 

This  comprehensive  law  enables  us  to  explain  not  only  the  recurrence  of  two 
objects  that  have  previously  been  connected  in  the  same  instant  of  time,  but 


force  of  succes-  the  return  of  those  also  which  have  followed  one  another  in  a  consecutive 
order  ;  as  the  words  that  form  a  sentence  suggest  each  other,  or  the  names 
that  have  been  learned  in  a  series,  or  the  letters  of  the  alphabet,  etc.,  etc.  In  these  cases  each 
object  that  precedes  and  follows  must  have  been  united  by  the  energy  of  a  single  act,  else  they 
could  not  have  been  observed  in  relation.  It  is  also  true,  hi  many  such  cases,  that  the  con- 
spiring relation  of  each  part  toward  the  whole  of  which  it  is  a  member,  has  been  often  con- 
sidered by  a  single  activity  of  the  mind,  after  the  parts  have  been  followed  in  their  order  by 
successive  pairs  in  the  way  just  explained. 

The  reference  of  the  laws  of  the  representative  power  to  the  subjective  force- 
power  of  feeling  or  energy  of  the  mind,  explains  the  influence  of  states  of  feeling,  as  well  aa 
over  the  associa-  actg  of  the  mtenect,  upon  the  representative  activities.  The  state  of  feeling 
in  which  I  perceive  or  cognize  an  object  —  e.  g.,  a  glorious  sunset  or  an  inter- 
esting story  —  is  often  as  distinct  to  my  apprehension  as  the  object  itself.  It  should  follow  that 
a  similar  feeling  excited  a  second  time  ought  as  truly  to  tend  to  recall  a  similar  object,  as  a 


§251.  THE    CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    OF    REPRESENTATION-.  285 

Bimilar  object  the  feeling.  That  the  feelings  are  potent  instruments  of  memory,  is  confirmed 
by  the  experience  of  every  one.  It  often  happens  that  a  feeling  of  disgust  once  occasioned  b* 
§ome  object,  can  never  be  experienced  again  without  recalling  the  object  itself.  This  is  oftet 
observed  in  the  bodily  sensations  as  those  of  sea-sickness  or  headache.  It  is  scarcely  lesl 
conspicuous  in  the  experience  of  purely  psychical  emotions  when  these  are  perfectly  defined 
or  are  traceable  to  some  determinate  cause  like  homesickness  or  sudden  fright.  In  such  eases 
the  experience  of  a  feeling  which  is  at  all  similar  to  the  feeling  in  question,  however  dissimilar 
may  be  the  occasion  or  exciting  cause,  will  bring  back  the  intellectual  cognition  with  which  it 
was  originally  connected.  We  have  already  explained  (§  229)  that  in  such  cases  the  feeling 
operates  through  the  agency  of  the  intellect. 

§  250.  This  principle  also  serves  to  explain  the  predominance  of  certain 
predra3nan(:ehof  associations  over  the  intellect  and  character  of  different  persons.  If  the  ten- 
special  associa-  dency  to  reproduction  and  recall  is  an  original  force,  or  law,  then  it  is  natural 

that  the  energy  with  which  any  individual  act  or  state  of  the  soul  tends  to  be 
revived,  should  be  proportioned  to  the  relative  force  of  the  original  act ;  in  other  words,  to 
the  attention  which  is  bestowed  upon  its  objects  or  parts,  whether  these  are  objective  or  sub- 
jective. An  excited  interest  is  the  condition  of  concentrated  attention ;  for,  as  has  already 
been  observed,  aroused  feeling  awakens  the  intellect,  detains  its  gaze,  and  excludes  distracting 
objects.  Hence,  the  intimate  dependence  of  the  memory  and  imagination  of  different  persons 
upon  the  character  and  strength  of  the  emotions,  the  buoyancy  and  depression  of  the  spirits, 
etc.  Hence,  preeminently,  the  influence  of  those  commanding  purposes  and  prevailing  habits 
which  make  and  mark  the  individual  man,  upon  the  objects  which  he  most  frequently  recalls 
and  recombines,  under  his  prevailing  and  dominant  associations.  That  every  man  has  his 
dominant  associations  is  universally  observed  and  confessed.  The  associations  of  one  are 
those  of  wit,  while  those  of  another  are  of  broader  humor.  One  person  abounds  in  sensuous 
illustrations  and  analogies,  another  in  "  wise  saws "  and  grave  generalizations.  One  person 
overflows  with  associations  of  vice,  another  with  those  of  virtue  and  goodness.  The  reason  is, 
that  the  favorite  objects  of  the  soul's  activity  with  the  one  person,  are  certain  classes  of 
objects  with  their  relations ;  and  with  the  other,  objects  that  are  very  unlike  them.  But  in 
every  case,  the  associations  by  which  each  recalls  objects,  follow  the  energy  with  which  he 
cognizes  them.  One  man  recalls  objects  and  relations  which  never  occur  to  another,  chiefly 
because  the  one  contemplates  these  objects  and  relations,  and  with  intense  energy,  while  they 
scarcely  catch  the  notice  or  attention  of  the  other.  Open  before  two  men  the  same  landscape, 
the  same  picture,  the  same  architectural  design  ;  tell  them  the  same  narrative,  introduce  them 
to  the  same  companion,  let  them  listen  to  the  same  poem,  lecture,  or  sermon,  and  the  active 
intellect  of  each  will  be  busy  in  selecting  objects  from  each,  discerning  them  in  special  rela- 
tions and  fixing  them  for  future  recall. 


EX  lainsthein-  §  251'  ^ur  general  law  explains  also  why  our  associations 
bSfoVectsSensi~  W^  Ofyects  perceived  are  far  more  energetic  and  permanent 
than  those  which  are  connected  with  objects  remembered  or 
imagined.  That  which  is  seen  with  the  eye  or  heard  with  the  ear,  other 
things  being  equal,  holds  the  attention  more  closely  and  longer  than  that 
which  is  merely  remembered,  or  painted  to  the  fancy.  It  is  constantly 
present,  firmly  fixed,  and  held  closely  before  the  mind  for  it  to  return  to 
as  often  as  it  will.  It  is  because  of  the  strength,  and  the  continuance  or 
federation  of  the  impressions  which  sensible  objects  occasion,  that  they 
•are  fittcil  to  fix  in  the  mind  bonds  of  association  with  far  greater  intense- 
ness  and  tenacity  than  objects  that  are  only  remembered  or  fancied.  Even 
if  the  object  which  has  been  previously  perceived  is  itself  remembered,  it 


284  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  253. 

brings  back  its  companion  or  related  thought,  with  far  greater  readiness 
and  force  than  if  it  had  been  originally  a  thought-object  only.  But  let  the 
object  be  perceived  a  second  time,  and  not  merely  remembered,  and  it 
acts  as  an  associating  force  with  redoubled  energy.  First,  it  presents  a 
greater  variety  and  number  of  parts  or  points  of  association  than  it  could 
possibly  do  when  it  was  only  thought  of.  Each  part  or  point  is  also  longer 
before  the  mind  as  an  object  to  which  it  can  return  again  and  again. 
Then  the  mind,  by  the  very  act  of  bodily  perception,  is  often  stimulated 
to  greater  activity,  and  prepared  to  recall  associate  objects  with  propor- 
tionate energy. 

The  associations  with  home  are  a  fine  illustration  of  this  principle.     When  we 

Associations  merely  think  of  the  home  of  our  childhood,  it  brings  back  a  throng  of  recol- 
lections associated  with  its  places  and  persons ;  but  when  we  visit  our  home, 
we  cannot  repress  them.  They  are  connected  with  every  apartment ;  they 

gtait  up  from  every  corner ;  they  attend  upon  all  our  walks ;  there  is  not  a  tree,  or  rock,  or 

stream,  but  thrusts  into  our  very  faces,  and  forces  upon  our  society,  its  throng  of  associate 

n>e<.nories. 

Objects  of  imagination  have  this  advantage  over  objects  of  sense,  that  they  are  more  free 

fro'u  unwelcome  and  unpleasant  elements,  and  are  subject  more  entirely  to  the  creative  power. 

But  objects  of  sense  stimulate  the  associative  tendency  to  greater  energy,  and  furnish  it  with 

the  greatest  variety  of  material. 

§  252.  Our  principle  also  explains  why  certain  conditions  of 
power  of  bodily  the  body  affect  the  power  to  recall,  both  favorably  and  un- 
favorably. Objects  apprehended  in  conditions  of  bodily 
weakness  and  pain  are  often  with  difficulty  recalled.  Those  which  pre- 
sent themselves  in  the  happier  moments  of  vigor,  activity,  and  moder- 
ate excitement,  are  never  forgotten.  Disease  may  both  hinder  and  quick- 
en the  energies  of  the  soul  to  acquire,  and,  of  course,  to  reproduce  its 
acquisitions ;  for,  in  all  these  cases,  the  tendency  to  reproduce  is  measured 
by  the  energy  of  the  original  activity ;  and  this  varies,  as  the  body  helps 
or  hinders  the  mind  to  detain  and  concentrate  its  attention  (cf.  §  244). 

wh  a  §  ^^*  '"^ne  Prmciple  which  refers  the  tendency  to  be  repro- 
part  and  not  the  <Juced  to  the  original  energy  of  apprehension  and  experience 
represented.  — in  other  words,  of  cognition  and  feeling — enables  us  to 
understand  why  the  mind  represents  only  a  portion,  and  often  but  a  single 
element  or  feature,  of  an  object  presented.  We  perceive  a  complex  mate- 
rial object ;  we  read  a  written  page ;  we  examine  a  fine  drawing,  engrav- 
ing, or  painting ;  we  hear  and  understand  an  elaborate  and  convincing 
argument ;  we  enjoy  a  succession  of  pleasurable  sensations  or  emotions. 
But  we  bring  away  or  possess  the  power  to  recall,  only  a  few  parts  or  ele- 
ments of  each.  The  explanation  has  already  been  anticipated,  by  the 
obvious  fact  that  our  apprehension  of  comparatively  simple  objects  con- 
sists of  many  separate  acts  of  analytic  and  energetic  attention  upon  the  sep- 
arate parts.  When  all  these  parts  are  spread  before  us,  in  the  relations  of 


§  255.  THE   CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    OF   REPRESENTATION.  28£ 

space,  we  select  at  our  leisure  those  which  solicit  our  notice.  When  they 
are  no  sooner  given  than  they  are  gone,  as  in  hearing  a  discourse,  etc.,  we 
seize  upon  selected  portions,  and  make  them  our  own  by  an  energetic 
response  which  accompanies  the  hearing,  or  by  an  earnest  review  which 
immediately  follows.  In  both  cases  we  often  gather,  by  a  unifying  act, 
all  that  we  have  thus  noticed.  What  is  material  to  our  principle,  is  that 
we  can  represent  no  more  parts  or  features  than  we  energetically  present 
to  our  cognition.  In  both  cases,  what  is  called  an  element,  part,  or  fea- 
ture, may  be  as  truly  the  single  vague  impression  which  strikes  the  senses 
or  the  mind  from  the  combined  action  of  the  whole,  as  the  combination 
of  parts  in  an  orchestra,  the  mingled  sounds  that  come  up  to  the  ear  in 
the  din  from  a  great  city,  or  the  general  impression  to  the  eye  of  an  object 
seen  or  a  few  points  vaguely  noticed  by  a  careless  reader  or  hearer. 
Whatever  the  parts  may  be,  or  however  they  may  be  conceived,  the  prin- 
ciple remains  true  that  that,  and  only  that,  which  is  appropriated  by  the 
mind  by  its  energetic  activity,  tends  to  be  revived  by  a  similar  act  of 
representation. 

8  254.    Again,  it  is  essential  to  an  act  of  knowledge  that  its 

Explains      why      °  &  ' 

relations  are  so  objects  be  discerned  in  some  relation.  JtLven  states  of  feeling 
are  moved  and  excited  by  the  discerned  relations  of  objects, 
as  truly  as  by  the  apprehension  of  their  unrelated  existence.  When 
the  mind  is  at  all  developed,  that  which  arrests  the  attention  and  excites 
the  interest  is  not  the  sole  and  single  part  or  element,  whether  of  a  sense 
or  spiritual  entity,  but  the  part  or  element  as  related  to  some  other  part  or 
whole,  present  or  absent,  perceived  or  thought  of.  The  relation  is  often 
quite  as  much  an  occasion  of  intellectual  or  emotional  activity  as  the  parts 
related.  Sometimes  it  attracts  the  exclusive  attention,  and  the  entities 
concerned  are  set  aside  and  overlooked.  I  may  listen  to  several  similar 
sounds  from  different  musical  instruments,  or  human  voices ;  the  sounds 
compared  may  scarcely  be  noticed,  only  the  circumstance  that  they  are 
similar.  Twenty  effects  may  be  produced  by  a  common  agent  or  cause. 
That  they  are  is  scarcely  observed,  for  the  attention  is  occupied  by  the 
common  relation  by  which  they  are  connected.  In  hearing  a  person  read, 
or  in  reading  ourselves,  we  often  do  not  notice  the  words ;  the  mind  ta\es 
up  only  the  relations  which  constitute  their  meaning. 
Finally,  why  §  255.  These  facts  explain  why  it  is  that  the  relations  of 

certain      classes      °  •    n          -i        i  /. 

of  relations  give    obiects,  and  especially  why  three  or  four  more  prominent  rela- 

the  laws  of  asso-       .  J          '  •  i  i  ... 

elation.  tions,  figure  so  conspicuously  as  laws  of  association  in  most 

of  the  modern  treatises  on  psychology,  and  how  this  circumstance  is  to  be 
reconciled  with  the  principle  and  method  of  explaining  these  laws  which 
we  adopt.  The  mind  can  rarely  be  moved  to  energetic  activity  except 
some  important  relation,  binding  two  or  more  objects  together,  holds  the 
attention  and  excites  the  feelings.  The  relations  named  are  none  other,  as 
we  shall  see,  than  the  comprehensive  or  general  categories  which  conned 


286  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  257, 

and  couditionate  all  our  knowledge  (§515).    These  relations  are  the  law* 
of  association,  inasmuch   as   they  are  conditions  of  original  cognition. 
Whatever  we  know  energetically  under  these  relations,  we  know  a  second 
time  under  and  by  means  of  one  or  more  of  these  categories. 
II.    The  secondary  laws  of  association. 

§  256.  The  theories  which  we  have  considered  thus  far 
bws  deSfin°eddary  cnie%  relate  to  what  are  called  the  primary  laws  of  associa- 

tion. Other  laws  have  also  been  proposed  which  are  called 
secondary.  The  primary  laws  are  conceived  as  those  which  account 
for  the  tendency  of  any  objects  to  recur  or  be  represented  to  the  mind,  by 
means  of  the  several  classes  of  objects  or  relations  which  have  been 
considered.  The  secondary  laws  are  conceived  to  regulate  the  recurrence 
of  one  object  in  any  class  rather  than  another.  They  might  with  propri- 
ety be  called  laws  of  the  preference  or  precedence  of  particular  objects. 
They  are  designed  to  explain  more  particularly  the  operation  of  the  repre- 
sentative power.  Whether  these  secondary  laws  may  not  also  be  explained 
by  the  principles  already  reached,  remains  to  be  seen,  after  subjecting 
them  to  a  critical  examination. 

The  secondary  laws  have  been  enumerated  and  propounded 
merntTd"16  enu"  as  ^°^ows  :  UO  Those  objects  are  more  likely  to  be  recalled, 

other  things  being  equal,  which  occupy  the  mind  for  the  long- 
est period  of  time  ;  (2.)  those  also  which  are  apprehended  most  vividly  ; 
(3.)  those  which  are  brought  most  frequently  before  the  mind  ;  (4.)  those 
which  were  most  recently  present  ;  (5.)  those  which  are  the  most  free 
from  entangling  relations  ;  (6.)  those  which  are  contemplated  with  the 
greatest  strength  of  emotion  ;  (7.)  those  which  are  viewed  with  favoring 
circumstances  of  bodily  health  ;  (8.)  those  which  are  coincident  with 
prevalent  habits  ;  (9.)  those  to  which  the  original  constitution  of  body  or 
mind  predisposes  us  with  the  greatest  interest  or  aptness  (cf.  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown,  Lecture  37). 

§  257.    A  critical  examination  of  these  laws  will  enable  us  to  reduce  them  to 
ble  to  the  same     some  general  expression.     Perhaps  it  will  show  that  both  the  secondary  and 
^        primary  rest  upon  the  same  general  principle.     The  first,  concerning  length 


of  time,  has  already  been  shown  to  be  a  necessary  incident  to  the  operation 
of  the  general  law  for  which  we  have  contended,  that  an  attentive  or  energetic  apprehension 
of  objects  in  their  relations  is  a  ground  of  their  tendency  to  be  recalled.  The  so-called  objects 
with  which  we  have  to  do,  are  ordinarily  complex,  each  part  holding  many  relations  to  one 
another  and  to  other  objects.  Some  length  of  time  may  be  necessary,  it  is  always  favorable, 
to  the  varied  and  repeated  applications  of  the  intellect  to  those  objects  and  relations,  which 
will  awaken  the  mind  to  its  highest  energy.  The  second  is  nearly  coincident  with  our  funda- 
mental principle. 

The  third  presents  ground  for  inquiry.  Why  does  simple  repetition  give  anj 
Tbefcrc-eofrep-  advantage?  We  answer:  A  second  look,  especially  if  it  follows  that  which 

went  before  after  a  considerable   interval  of  time,  presents  the  object  as 

divested  of  the  distracting  influences  which  novelty  imparts.     It  is  taker 


§25?.  THE    CONDITIONS   AND    LAWS    OF   EBPEESENTATION.  28? 

when  the  Ttrirvt  is  critical  and  cool — when  it  inquires  whether  its  former  judgment  was  correct 
Each  new  or  repeated  view,  whether  near  or  remote,  reveals  some  fresh  relation  to  some 
familiar  or  novel  object,  and  thus  increases  the  chance  of  its  being  suggested  to  the  mind  a 
second  lime.  For  example,  by  one  act  the  diamond  is  apprehended  as  the  brightest,  or  the 
hardest,  or  the  most  costly  of  the  gems ;  and  so,  when  the  gems  are  thought  of,  the  diamond 
."*  suggested.  By  another  view,  its  relation  to  carbon  is  discerned,  and  then  the  diamond  will 
be  recalled  when  charcoal,  or  marble,  or  carbonic  acid  are  present  to  the  thoughts. 

The  fourth  law  is,  that  an  object  contemplated  recently,  is,  if  other  things  are 
Tht.  recentness  equal,  more  likely  to  be  recalled  than  the  same  object  if  viewed  longer  ago. 
thon<b.t  of°^  t  -^  c°untenance  casually  and  hastily  seen  an  hour  since,  may  be  recollected  or 

recalled  by  another  similar  face  within  this  short  interval  of  time,  but  be  lost 
forever  if  the  occasion  which  suggests  it  does  not  soon  present  itself.  The  fact  is  unques- 
tioned, and  it  may  perhaps  be  an  ultimate  fact.  It  rather  concerns  the  loss  or  waste  of  power, 
than  any  positive  force  or  tendency.  If  expressed  in  the  language  or  terms  taken  from  the 
general  principle  which  we  have  laid  down  as  fundamental,  it  would  be  thus . phrased  :  "the 
tendency  of  any  act  of  the  mind  to  be  recalled  or  repeated  is  weakened  by  disuse,  till,  finally, 
it  wholly  ceases."  Whether  it  is  properly  said  to  be  weakened,  or  superseded,  is  an  open  ques- 
tion. This  is  true  of  the  kindred  question,  whether  any  acquisition  of  the  mind  can  be  irrecov- 
erably lost  (cf.  §  290). 

One  palpable  and  prominent  exception  to  this  general  tendency  to  weakness 
The  memory  of    or  loss  may  be  urged,  in  the  frequent  cases  of  persons  who  in  old  age  remem- 
ber nothing  so  vividly  as  the  scenes  and  events  which  occurred  longest  ago. 

Often  the  whole  of  the  intervening  life  is  entirely  erased  from  the  £oul,  while 
the  memories  of  youth  and  childhood  are  still  vivid  and  distinct.  Several  reasons  may  be 
given  for  this  plain  exception  to  the  operation  of  the  laws  already  considered.  Many  of  the 
remembrances  of  childhood  have  been  recalled  again  and  again  through  a  long  life.  These 
objects  have  been  suggested  by  a  great  number  of  occasions,  have  been  viewed  and  reviewed 
under  the  greatest  variety  of  relations,  and  been  attended  by  the  strongest  and  the  tenderest 
emotions.  Though  the  events  of  childhood,  as  realities,  were  present  to  the  mind  longest  ago, 
yet,  as  thought-objects,  they  may  be  the  most  fresh  and  recent.  Nor  should  it  be  forgotten 
that  the  objects  and  events  of  childhood  were  contemplated  by  the  mind  at  first  with  an  almost 
exclusive  and  absorbing  attention.  The  few  persons  that  stand  out  in  so  bold  relief  from  the 
background  of  life  when  life  is  reviewed,  filled  its  entire  foreground  when  life  was  all  in  the 
future,  for  they  were  the  only  persons  with  whom  the  child  was  brought  in  contact.  The 
memorable  occurrences  of  childhood  were  the  absorbing  subjects  of  thought  for  days  before 
they  occurred.  They  were  often  reviewed  with  fond  reflection  after  they  were  past.  The 
learning  to  count  ten  or  one  hundred,  the  wearing  a  certain  dress ;  the  beginning  of  school- 
life  ;  the  long-anticipated,  the  often-reviewed  and  recited  visit  to  some  relative,  the  first  con- 
siderable journey,  the  first  party,  the  first  composition — were  most  important  occurrences  in 
their  time,  and  spread  themselves  over  a  large  portion  of  the  horizon  of  the  infant  life. 

The  fifth  law  (which  relates  to  entangling  relations)  has  already  been  provided 
The  force  of  en-  for>  if  the  points  or  features  to  which  these  relations,  and  the  thereby  related 
tions.  objects,  are  attached,  are  very  numerous,  the  greater  is  the  probability  that 

the  object  will  be  recalled,  provided  the  relations,  and  the  related  objects,  be 
discerned  with  equal  energy  of  attention  and  ardor  of  interest.  But  if  the  multiplicity  of 
relations  divides  and  thus  weakens  the  interest,  the  influence  of  their  number  is  distracting 
aTid  entangling.  In  illustration  of  the  operation  of  this  law,  Dr.  Brown  observes :  "  The  song 
which  we  have  never  heard  but  from  one  person,  can  scarcely  be  heard  again  by  us  without 
recalling  that  person  to  our  memory  ;  but  there  is  obviously  much  less  chance  of  this  particu. 
lar  suggestion,  if  we  have  heard  the  same  air  and  words  frequently  sung  by  others  "  (Lec- 
ture 31). 

Upon  this  we  remark :  If  the  frequent  repetition  of  the  song  has  the  effect  to  withdraw 


288  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  258. 

the  attention  from  the  first  impression,  and  to  exclude  its  being  often  repeated  and  revived^ 
then  it  becomes  less  likely  that  the  person  who  sung  it  for  the  first  time  will  be  suggested  bj 
the  air ;  but  if,  every  time  it  is  sung  by  any  one,  that  person  is  recalled,  then  the  song  will  b€ 
more  ineffaceably  associated  with  him  the  more  frequently  it  is  sung. 

The  sixth  and  seventh  have  already  been  noticed  and  explained  (§§  251.2).  The  eighth 
needs  but  a  word.  So  far  as  facility  of  association  depends  on  repetition,  and  so  far  as  par- 
ticular habits  facilitate  repetition,  so  far  is  this  general  fact  resolved  by  the  law  concerning 
repetition.  So  far  as  habit,  or  easy  repetition  by  habit,  enables  us  to  concentrate  the  attention 
with  greater  energy  and  interest,  so  far  is  its  power  explained  by  the  strength  of  the  single  or 
repeated  apprehensions  for  which  habit  provides. 

The  ninth  law  supposes  that  there  are  original  differences  and  aptitudes  in 
Natural  apti-  different  individuals  for  certain  classes  of  associations.  This  is  doubtless 
true.  But  it  should  never  be  forgotten  that  these  original  aptitudes  do  not 
pertain  to  the  faculty  of  representation  or  the  so-called  faculty  of  association 
as  suchy  but  that  it  extends  equally  to  the  power  of  presentation  and  intuition.  Whatever  we 
energetically  observe  or  connect  by  relations,  in  original  intuition,  we  revive  by  association. 
The  range  of  the  objects  which  we  can  recall  depends  on  the  range  of  objects  and  relations 
which  we  can  apprehend.  The  special  aptness  which  we  have  for  representing  objects,  de- 
pends on  the  aptness  with  which  we  present  or  acquire  them.  There  is  no  special  aptness  for 
special  associations,  or  for  various  and  ready  suggestion,  separate  from  a  readiness  to  discern 
special  classes  of  objects  and  relations,  and  to  discern  them  with  interest  and  energy. 

8  258.    There  are  what  seem,  on  the  first  aspect,  exceptions 

Apparent  excep- 
tions to  the  law    to   the   universal    application   of    the    laws    of    association. 

of  association. 

While  no  one  can  doubt  that  many  thoughts  are  suggested 
from  the  past  through  a  manifest  and  discernible  connection  with  objects 
or  thoughts  that  are  present,  there  are  many  cases  of  apparent  deviation 
from  this  rule.  It  would  seem  that,  if  the  rule  were  worth  any  thing,  it 
ought  to  be  universal.  And  yet  there  are  many  cases  when  a  thought 
seems  all  at  once  to  dart  into  the  mind,  which  has  no  apparent  connection 
with  any  thought  that  is  present.  In  many  such  cases,  the  connections  can 
be  traced  through  all  their  concealed  and  circuitous  ways,  and  the  several 
objects  that  served  as  media  can  all  be  uncovered  one  by  one.  We  cite 
the  familiar  story  recorded  by  Hobbes  :  "  In  a  company  in  which  the  con- 
versation turned  upon  the  late  civil  war,  what  could  be  conceived  ntore 
impertinent  than  for  a  person  to  ask  abruptly,  What  was  the  value  of  a 
Roman  denarius  ?  On  a  little  reflection,  however,  I  was  able  to  trace  the 
train  of  thought  which  suggested  the  question ;  for  the  original  subject  of 
discourse  introduced  the  history  of  the  king,  and  of  the  treachery  of  those 
who  surrendered  his  person  to  his  enemies ;  this  again  introduced  the 
treachery  of  Judas  Iscariot,  and  the  sum  of  money  which  he  received  for 
his  reward  "  (Leviathan,  p.  i.  c.  3). 

This  story  is  better  worth  repeating  for  its  antiquity,  than  because  of 
the  singularity  of  its  matter.  It  has  served  as  an  illustration  of  the  opera- 
tion of  association  in  all  the  books  since  Hobbes'  time.  But  the  case  is 
no  more  singular  nor  striking  than  the  experience  of  any  lively  mind  could 
furnish  in  every  half-hour.  If  any  person  not  absorbed  with  the  objects 


§259.  THE   CONDITIONS    AND   I  4WS    OF   REPRESENTATION.  289 

of  sense,  or  bent  upon  some  present  achievement,  will  break  in  upon  his 
movements  of  reverie  with  the  question,  How  did  this  or  that  thought 
occur  to  my  mind  ?  he  will  be  surprised,  and  perhaps  amused,  at  the  series 
of  strangely  connected  thoughts  which  introduced  it  to  his  notice.  In 
many  cases,  the  thought,  though  abrupt  and  strange,  will  be  found  to  havo 
a  real  connection  with  the  thought  which  it  seemed  to  jostle  and  displace. 
There  are  thoughts,  however,  the  connections  of  which  we  cannot  trace 
out.  What  ought  we  to  believe  in  respect  to  them  ?  Should  we  still  hold 
that  the  law  of  association  governs  their  movement,  though  we  cannot 
trace  its  presence  or  furnish  the  proof  of  its  working  ? 

§  259.  In  answer  to  this  question,  two  opposite  views  have  been  maintained. 
Two  theories  The  first  is  held  by  Dugald  Stewart  and  others — that  the  mind  is  momen- 
nation.  tarily  conscious  of  the  presence  of  these  intervening  objects,  though  it  cannot 

recall  them  in  memory ;  that  the  media  of  association  are  present  long 
enough  to  act  as  links  of  connection,  but  not  long  enough  to  leave  any  trace  upon  the  mem- 
ory. Thus,  when  the  object  A  was  known  to  be  present,  and  all  at  once  F  darts  into  the  mind 
— though  we  did  not  know  how  or  why — it  was  nevertheless  true  that  B,  c,  D,  and  E  did 
occur  to  the  mind  each  long  enough  to  suggest  the  other,  and  so  the  mind  was  carried  on  to  F, 
on  which  it  rests  with  distinct  and  conscious  apprehension,  though  it  cannot  recall  one  of  these 
intervening  objects. 

The  second  theory  is  urged  by  Hamilton,  following  a  suggestion  of  Leibnitz,  and  agreeing 
with  the  school  of  Herbart.  These  all  contend  that.,  '  though  B,  c,  n,  and  E  were  present  long 
enough  to  influence  the  train  of  consciously  associated  thoughts,  yet  the  mind  was  in  no  sense 
aware  of  their  presence ;  for  it  is  un philosophical  to  suppose  an  object  present  to  conscious- 
ness without  leaving  some  impression  upon  the  memory.  No  analogous  cases  can  be  adduced, 
and  the  hypothesis  must  be  rejected  as  groundless.'  Besides,  it  is  urged,  '  another  principle  can 
be  adduced  to  explain  the  phenomena — that  of  latent  or  unconscious  modifications  of  the 
mind.  In  this  we  have  a  recognized  and  actually  existing  law,  which  is  sufficient  to  account 
for  all  the  facts,  and  which  ought  therefore  to  be  accepted  as  their  valid  explanation.' 

Upon  this  argument  we  observe,  that  it  is  not  true,  as  is  represented,  that  there  are  no 
grounds  on  which  to  rest  the  first  hypothesis.  In  the  very  case  supposed,  when  F  suddenly 
and  strangely  follows  upon  A,  if  we  bethink  ourselves  at  once,  we  can  recall  some  intervening 
links  of  B,  c,  n,  and  E.  We  say,  if  we  bethink  ourselves  at  once  ;  for  if  the  effort  is  made  a 
few  instants  later,  the  clue  will  fall  from  our  hands.  At  other  times,  when  it  seems  to  have 
totally  escaped  and  eluded  us,  it  can  be  recovered  by  persistent  effort  and  determination. 
Now,  the  fact  that  in  some  apparently  desperate  cases  we  can  succeed,  demonstrates  that  the 
objects  might  have  been — nay,  that  they  actually  were,  present  to  the  consciousness,  though 
they  seemed  not  to  have  been.  We  have  a  right  to  infer,  then,  on  grounds  of  analogy,  that 
they  are  so  in  all  cases.  The  analogy  of  acknowledged  and  similar  phenomena  is  wholly  with 
the  first  theory.  Moreover,  analogy  would  seem  to  suggest  and  confirm  the  principle,  that 
where  there  is  a  feeble  activity  of  consciousness,  there  is  a  feeble  hold  upon  the  memory ;  and 
we  conclude  conversely,  that  where  there  is  the  slenderest  hold  upon  the  memory,  there  must 
have  been  the  feeblest  possible  energy  of  consciousness.  The  advocate  of  the  second  theory 
would  argue,  that  where  there  is  no  memory,  there  can  have  been  no  consciousness.  We  hava 
ihown  that  in  instances  in  which  there  seems  to  be  no  memory,  memory  is  present,  but  with 
feeble  energy ;  and  we  have  reason  to  conclude  that  it  may  always  be  so,  when  the  effect 
argues  the  presence  of  conscious  activity.  What  is  intended  by  the  phrase,  the  latent  mc.dificck. 
twn  of  consciousness  is  not  alogether  clear.  If  it  be  explained  as  onlv  a  very  low  degree  of 
conscious  activity,  the  two  theories  are  in  principle  the  same. 
19 


290  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  261 


Re  resenta  §  26°*  ^e  rePresenta^ve  power  tends  to  unceasing  activity 
Hon  unceasingly  The  mind,  if  given  up  to  the  operation  of  the  laws  of  asso* 

ciation,  would  never  cease  to  furnish  itself  with  new  objects, 
Each  object  last  discerned  would  suggest  another.  This  would  call  up  its 
fellow,  and  the  series  of  successive  objects  would  suffer  no  interruption 
and  would  come  to  no  end.  It  has  been  said  with  great  effect  —  and  the 
thought  is  a  pregnant  one  —  that,  were  the  senses  excited  to  action  only 
long  enough  to  furnish  the  soul  with  requisite  material  and  fully  to  de- 
velop all  its  powers,  and  then  to  be  sealed  up  forever,  the  spirit  would 
have  acquired  material  enough  for  its  endless  activity,  and  its  activity 
in  simple  representation  would  go  on  forever.  (Bishop  Butler,  Analogy, 
p.  i.  c.  i.)  We  know  from  observation,  that  when  the  other  activities  are 
as  nearly  suspended  as  is  possible,  as  in  dreaming  and  reverie,  the 
train  of  associated  objects  still  rushes  past  the  eye  of  fancy  with  a  rapidity 
that  cannot  be  measured.  In  cases  of  an  abnormal  excitement  of  the 
brain,  it  seems  beyond  our  control,  and  we  suffer  intensely  from  the  energy 
and  swiftness  with  which  thoughts  of  every  variety  force  themselves  upon 
our  notice,  while  we  can  neither  retard  nor  regulate  their  course.  But 
strong  as  this  activity  is,  and  difficult  of  control  as  it  at  times  may  be,  it 
does  not  often  assume  exclusive  or  supreme  possession.  There  are  two 
methods  by  which  this  activity  is  interrupted  and  turned  aside.  The  one 
is  objective,  the  other  is  subjective. 

§  261.    We  consider,  first,  the  objective  interruption.     Every 

inter"  * 

to  tMs  new  °kjent  of  sense-perception  introduces  a  foreign  and 
diveuirig  element.  Representation  gives  way  to  presenta- 
tion or  acquisition.  We  do  not  deny  that  both  these  activities  may 
be  excited  together,  and  that  two  series,  of  presentation  and  representa- 
tion, may  go  forward  side  by  side.  It  would  seem  from  experience 
that  this  often  happens.  In  waking  gently  from  sleep,  the  images  of  the 
dream-world  blend  with  the  realities  of  the  sense-world.  Even  in  our 
waking  hours,  the  hard  world  which  the  senses  give  us,  is  constantly  blended 
with  the  spirit-world  in  which  we  dream.  Even  in  the  thronged  city, 
the  crowded  assembly,  the  pictured  theatre,  and  the  musical  concert-room, 
when  the  entire  energy  is  tasked  and  excited  to  do  justice  to  the  number- 
less objects  that  address  the  senses,  the  fancy  is  often  apparently  as  busy  as 
ever  in  its  more  crowded  and  exciting  world,  and  finds  itself  hundreds  of 
miles  distant  from  the  absorbing  scene.  The  soberest  world  of  tl  e  most 
prosaic  and  practical  thinker  is  a  silver  tissue  sparkling  with  the  images 
which  the  fancy  will  persist  in  interweaving  into  its  homely  fabric.  Let  all 
this  be  admitted,  and  still  it  is  true  that  the  two  species  of  activity  cannot 
occupy  the  attention  at  the  same  moment  with  equal  energy  ;  and  that  the 
sense-world  and  sense-objects  will  break  in  upon  the  activity  of  the  fancy, 
Let  but  a  single  object  do  this  for  a  single  instant,  and  a  starting-point  is 
furnished  for  a  new  train  of  thought  in  an  entirely  new  direction. 


THE   CONDITIONS   AND    LAWS    OF   REPKESENTATION.  291 

§  262.  The  subjective  interruption,  diversion,  and  control  of 
s' }inter"  tne  representative  activity  of  the  soul,  are  stftl  more  impor- 
tant. The  ego  which  at  times  may  seem  to  be  the  helpless 
victim  or  the  amused  spectator  of  this  moving  diorama,  is  not  always  an 
idle  or  passive  looker-on.  It  has  but  to  detain  any  single  object  by  simple 
capiice  perhaps,  or  at  the  impulse  of  interested  emotion,  and  the  object 
detained  and  repeated  suggests  new  objects,  to  each  of  which  it  sustains 
many  relations.  By  simply  arresting  the  course  of  representation,  its 
independent  activity  is  as  truly  controlled  and  newly  directed  as  if  some 
object  of  sense  had  obtruded  itself  upon  the  attention. 

But  the  mind  can  do  that  which  is  far  more  effective  and  important 
than  to  detain  an  object  before  its  attention  from  simple  impulse  of  emo- 
tion. It  must  exert  upon  every  such  object  its  higher  and  nobler  activi- 
ties, for  it  cannot  repress  them.  If  it  cognizes  the  existence  of  the  object, 
it  discerns  it  as  present,  and  as  diverse  from  itself.  It  may  remember  it 
as  having  before  been  present.  It  may  compare  it  with  other  objects, 
bring  it  into  a  new  or  a  familiar  class,  name  it,  reason  about  it,  make  from 
it  some  induction,  mould  from  it  some  imaginative  creation,  apply  it  in 
illustration  or  analogy,  discern  in  it  relations  of  beauty,  learn  from  it  some 
moral  lesson,  or  find  in  it  some  manifestation  of  the  divine.  Each  one  of 
these  activities  will  evolve  a  new  product,  which  product  may  serve  as  a 
starting-point  for  a  new  series  of  representations.  These  activities  are  far 
more  potent  and  effective  than  the  merely  passive  services  of  the  repre- 
senting power,  though  they  blend  with  them  so  intimately  as  not  easily 
to  be  distinguished  from  them.  So  rapid  are  all  these  higher  actions  to  a 
well-trained  intellect,  that  the  mind  seems  to  be  pouring  out  the  ore  of 
gathered  wealth  at  the  feet  of  the  recipient,  when  it  is,  in  fact,  recasting 
and  restamping  each  portion  anew.  As  the  mind  mingles  the  thinking 
power  with  the  activity  of  perception,  when  it  seems  only  to  see  and 
hear  with  the  organs  of  sense,  so  does  it  elevate  and  transform  its  acts  oi 
memory  and  fancy  by  the  penetrating  analysis  and  combining  synthesis  of 
rational  judgment  in  all  the  varieties  of  activity  and  production. 

We  have  already  shown  (§  234)  that  the  representative  power  is  that  which  is  pre- 
eminently serviceable  to  thought.  It  works  more  rapidly  than  sense  or  consciousness.  It  in 
fact  elaborates  the  actualities  of  present  and  raw  experience  into  refined  materials  for  thought 
to  rework  a  second  time.  It  enables  the  rational  power  in  many  ways  to  proceed  more  quickly, 
and  with  fewer  encumbrances,  to  its  own  results. 

Association  not  §  263<  ^^  ^s  a  most  superficial  and  untrue  conception  to 
the  only  nor  the  take  of  the  representative  power  and  the  laws  of  association. 

most    important  ' 

power.  which  resolves  into  them  all  the  nobler  and  more  important 

operations  and  products  of  the  human  soul.  Such  a  view  excludes  indi- 
vidual energy  and  self-respect — as  well  as  the  capacity  for  moral  relations 
to  one's  self,  to  our  fellow-men,  and  to  God. 


2H  THE   HUMAX   INTELLECT.  §  264 

In  one  aspect,  the  mind  may  be  properly  said  to  be  entirely  dependent 
on  the  necessary  workings  of  the  laws  of  representation.  It  cannot  thinl< 
of  anj;  object  which  the  phantasy  does  not  bring  within  its  field  of  vision. 
If  phantasy  be  limited,  or  feeble,  or  slow,  or  torpid,  through  original/ con 
stitution  or  the  neglect  of  culture,  it  will  furnish  these  objects  slowly 
eebly,  and  scantily ;  if  it  be  rapid  and  energetic,  it  will  marshal  them 
swiftly,  and  strongly,  and  abundantly.  So  far  as  it  acts  as  phantasy  only, 
it  obeys  these  conditions ;  but  this  it  does  but  rarely  when  in  a  normal 
and  wakeful  state.  So  far  as  it  reacts  upon  the  materials  which  phantasy 
furnishes,  or  coacts  with  itself  as  representing,  by  also  thinking  and  cre- 
ating— which  it  does  almost  always — so  far  does  it  direct,  and  originate 
new  trains,  and,  in  so  doing,  exert  its  active  power. 

f  This  active  power  is  to  a  great  extent  dependent  on  the  strength  and  direction 
largely  upon  the  of  the  emotions  and  sensibilities.  What  a  man  makes  of  the  materials  which 
emotions  and  representation  furnishes  by  detaining  or  elaborating  them,  will  of  course  depenc 
upon  his  feelings,  both  momentary  and  permanent.  The  feeling  which  hap 
pens  to  be  uppermost  will  direct  to  the  acceptance  or  rejection  of  the  thought  which  pleases 
or  displeases.  The  desire  which  prevails  will  direct  to  the  use  which  is  made  of  the  object 
while  it  is  thus  detained.  Permanent  moods  or  habits  of  feeling  in  this  way  direct  the 
energies.  The  voluntary  activities  and  states,  so  far  as  they  control  the  feelings,  become  the 
moving  forces  to  all  the  other  acts  and  products  of  the  soul. 

§  264.    Besides  this  direct   action  upon  the  representative 

Indirect  control 

over  the  associa-  faculty,  there  is  another  which  acts  indirectly,  if  possible 
with  still  greater  effect.  The  action  is  direct  when,  in  the 
ways  described,  the  ego  arrests  and  modifies  the  onward  current  of  what 
would  otherwise  be  passive  tendencies.  It  is  indirect  so  far  as,  by  every 
such  action,  a  greater  facility  or  force  is  given  to  such  tendencies  for  the 
future.  Every  present  energy  of  attention,  every  special  effort  of  crea- 
tion or  thought,  gives  additional  strength  to  certain  bonds  of  association, 
and  imparts  special  facility  to  the  mind  in  reviving  their  objects.  A  prece- 
dence is  thereby  established  for  certain  trains  of  thought.  They  come  a 
second  time,  and  ever  afterward,  more  easily  and  naturally.  This  very 
circumstance  enables  us  to  apply  the  mind  to  similar  objects  with  lesa 
effort  and  greater  pleasure,  till,  at  last  the  mind  has  created  for  itself 
almost  a  new  medium  of  life,  a  second  atmosphere  for  its  own  easy  and 
familiar  action,  which  is  purely  the  product  of  its  own  previous  activities. 
The  feelings  provide  for  their  own  perpetuation  and  increased  force  as  they 
direct  to  this  or  that  intellectual  activity ;  as  they  furnish  for  the  next 
occasion  the  very  objects  and  relations  which  are  the  best  fitted  to  excite 
them  a  second  time,  and  end  at  last  by  giving  them  almost  exclusive  pos- 
session of  the  soul.  The  habits  of  feeling,  the  moods  of  good  or  ill  tem- 
per, of  depression  or  cheerfulness,  of  openness  or  suspicion,  in  this  way 
tend  to  become  permanent  and  more  intense.  Hence,  preeminently,  every 
controlling  or  commanding  purpose,  whether  morally  good  or  bad,  tend* 


§265.  THE   CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    Of   REPRESENTATION.  29* 

to  perpetuate  itself,  and  to  secure  the  execution  of  its  own  behests.  First 
it  prompts  the  mind  to  detain  those  objects  which  have  relation  to  itself 
second,  it  impels  it  to  consider  them  with  the  utmost  force  of  attention 
Thus  are  developed  and  strengthened  those  te»dencies,  in  obedience  tc 
which  the  mind  learns  at  last  to  think  of  those  objects,  and  only  those, 
which  it  requires,  and  to  use  them  in  its  service  with  dexterity  and  readi- 
ness. Under  the  constant  presence  and  guiding  control  of  such  a  purpose, 
all  the  trains  of  associated  objects  become  its  "  ready  servitors,"  which 
bring  to  mind,  when  needed,  the  facts  and  suggestions,  the  illustrations 
and  arguments,  the  happy  phrases  and  expressive  words,  which  are  re- 
quired for  thought,  expression,  and  act. 

Various  familiar  phenomena  illustrate  the  force  of  these  indirect  influences 
frJmtratcommoii.  upon  the  rePresentative  faculty.  The  same  material  object  suggests  to 
phenomena.  different  persons  associations  that  are  entirely  unlike  and  even  opposite  to 

one  another.  The  scene,  the  house,  the  apartment,  which  to  one  man  is  full 
of  the  deepest  interest,  is  to  another  indifferent.  To  one  person  it  recalls  suggestions  fraught 
with  peace,  affection,  and  joy ;  to  another,  memories  of  hatred,  remorse,  and  terror.  The 
name  of  this  or  that  great  personage  is  fragrant  with  inspiration  to  the  ear  and  soul  of 
some  ;  while  from  the  mind  of  another  it  elicits  the  response  of  simple  recognition.  To  one 
man,  the  names  of  Kepler,  of  Newton,  of  Raphael,  or  of  Beethoven,  call  up  simply  the  place 
and  date  of  their  birth ;  to  another,  the  thought  of  their  achievements ;  the  one  may  incite  to 
special  reflections  upon  their  science  or  art ;  the  other  to  the  secret  of  their  skill  and  success. 
To  the  same  man,  on  different  occasions  and  in  different  moods,  the  same  object  will  suggest 
different  associations,  according  to  the  feelings  of  the  hour  or  the  purpose  for  which  he  ia 
thinking.  We  may  almost  say  without  exaggeration,  that  in  every  present  activity  of  the 
mind  there  is  revived  and  indirectly  made  to  reappear  the  whole  of  the  man's  previous  history, 
as  each  of  its  acts  and  events  have  been  taken  up  by  the  force  of  the  soul's  purely  passive 
tendencies,  and  so  incorporated  into  its  very  essence. 

§  265     The  law  of  association,  according  to  the  views  of  its 

Law  of  associa-  _  .  „ °        _ 

tion  and  law  of  nature  and  energy  which  have  been  enforced,  rests  upon  the 
same  original  principle  which  explains  the  law  of  habit. 
One  object  suggests  another,  because  one  mental  state  which  is  similar  in 
part  to  another  tends  to  be  like  it  in  every  particular.  This  principle, 
when  expressed  in  other  language,  is  equivalent  to — any  mental  activity  or 
experii«ice,  when  it  is  repeated,  is  more  readily  performed. 

The  question  has  often  been  mooted,  and  sometimes  earnestly  discussed, 
Which  !s  re-  Which  of  these  principles  is  fundamental  and  original — the  principle  of  asso- 
other 1.  ciation,  or  the  principle  of  habit  ?  Reid  contends  for  the  principle  of  habit 

(Essay,  iv.  chap.  4).  Dugald  Stewart  urges  that  the  principle  of  habit  can  be 
ve^wlved  into  the  laws  of  association  (Elements,  p.  i.  §  6).  Hamilton  observes,  in  a  note  upon 
•tod,  that  "  we  can  as  well  explain  habit  by  association,  as  association  by  habit."  This  last 
tjxnark  is  true  only  if  we  admit — as  Stewart,  Hume,  and  others,  seem  to  assume — that  associa- 
Uon  is  to  be  resolved  into  an  attractive  force  between  kindred  ideas  or  relations  as  such.  We 
have  contended  that  such  an  attraction,  as  a  force  independent  of  the  relation  they  have  tc 
She  subjective  state  or  activity  of  the  mind  apprehending  them,  is  altogether  inconceivable. 
If  the  force  is  derived  from  this  source,  then  it  must  be  resolved  into  the  law  of  facility  of 
repetition  in  similar  acts  or  states.  Hamilton,  in  accepting  the  law  of  redintegration,  if 


294  THE   HUMAX   INTELLECT. 

forced  by  consistency  to  adopt  the  same  theory,  and  in  the  last  analys's  to  "  explain  assotia 
tion  by  habit." 

§  266.  Which  of  these  is  the  more  philosophical  theory  is 
Theory  of  habit,  evident  not  "only  from  the  considerations  which  have  already 

been  urged,  but  from  the  very  conception  of  habit  and  it? 
operation  in  all  the  departments  of  being  in  which  it  prevails. 

Habit,  Lat.  habitus,  Gr.  !£is,  is  literally  a  way  of  being  held,  or  of 
holding  one's  self.  Thus  defined,  it  must  denote  a  permanent  state  of  rest 
which  has  been  reached  as  the  result  of  action  or  growth,  or  a  permanent 
form  of  activity,  or  of  readiness  or  facility  for  any  kind  of  activity.  As 
such  facility  for  action  is  universally  observed  to  result  from  repetition  of 
action,  this  last  element  is  taken  up  into  the  conception  or  definition  of 
habit.  The  acquisition  of  facility  by  repetition,  supposes  that  some  difii 
culty  or  hindrance  has  been  overcome. 

In  whatever  department  of  nature  habit  is  observed,  often  a 

Supposes     some 

difficulty  to  be    difficulty  is  noticed  in  the  beginning,  whether  the  habits  are 

overcome.  .  ° 

purely  psychical  or  corporeal,  or  whether  they  are  both  physi- 
cal and  mental  conjoined ;  whether  they  are  emotional  or  moral,  or  whether, 
as  is  often  true,  they  are  all  three  together. 

Examples  of  bodily  habits  are  furnished  by  a  particular  gait;  the  dexter- 

ous  management  of  the  hand  in  the  use  of  a  saw,  a  chisel,  a  hatchet,  or  a 
Bodily  habits. 

plane,  in  driving  or  in  drawing ;  and  the  control  of  the  limbs  in  dancing  or 

gymnastic  feats.  The  acquisition  of  such  habits  does  indeed  usually  involve 
che  use  of  the  mind,  and  the  gain  of  facility  in  such  use.  But  we  may  consider  apart  the  for- 
mation of  the  body  only  to  a  new  habitude,  and  for  the  moment  have  to  do  only  with  the 
changes  in  the  states  and  functions  of  the  body  which  our  senses  observe  to  be  more  and  more 
readily  made.  We  will  afterward  consider  the  more  facile  and  dexterous  dealing  of  the  mind 
with  the  body  through  the  sensations  of  which  we  are  conscious.  We  suppose,  that  at  the  out- 
set the  special  use  required  is  difficult,  either  because  some  habitual  and  undesirable  adjustment 
or  predisposition  of  the  muscles  has  been  attained^  or  because  they  are  imperfectly  or  wrongly 
adjusted  by  nature.  An  effort  is  required  involving  physical  tension  or  physical  pain ;  as 
when  we  would  bring  the  organs  to  utter  the  unused  sounds  of  a  strange  language,  or  would 
bring  the  fingers  or  the  limbs  to  painful  or  constrained  positions.  We  may  explain  the  obstacle 
or  hindrance  by  a  certain  power  or  tendency  of  the  reflex  activities  of  the  nervous  system. 
The  conquest  may  consist  in  the  facility  which  it  is  possible  to  acquire,  by  a  gradual 
assumption  by  the  reflex  motors  of  new  forms  of  muscular  adjustment.  Whether  or  not  this 
is  a  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  difficulty  and  its  conquest,  the  difficulty  and  its  conquest  are 
observed  and  experienced  in  the  attitudes  and  adjustments  of  the  body.  That  the  human 
body,  in  its  growth  and  training,  is  capable  of  acquiring,  by  use,  the  facile  and  even  spontane- 
ous use  of  its  powers,  is  an  original  fact  which  is  too  obvious  to  be  questioned.  With  this 
law  or  principle,  which  operates  in  and  over  the  body,  it  is  obvious  that  the  association  of 
ideas  or  sensations  can  have  nothing  to  do,  for  there  are  no  ideas  or  sensations  to  be  asso- 
ciated or  united  together. 

§  267.    We  pass  next  to  mental  habits— -first,  those  which  are 

M"ental    habits;       ,         ,  ,    .  ..  .,  -I-ITI          T 

obstacles  to  be    developed  in  connection  with  such  bodily  adjustments  as  we 
have  supposed;  and  second,  those  which  concern  functions 


§  267.  THE   CONDITIONS   AND    LAWS    OF   REPKESENTATION.  29fl 

that  are  simply  and  purely  mental.  Side  by  side  with  the  new  adjustments 
to  \*  hich  the  muscles  are  constrained  with  a  more  and  more  ready  obedience, 
there  must  proceed  a  constantly  increased  facility  in  the  mind's  connection 
and  control  of  the  appropriate  sensations,  according  to  the  ends  which  it 
intends  to  accomplish ;  or  rather,  the  movements  of  the  mind  are  the  real 
beginnings  of  the  new  adjustments  and  growths  of  the  body.  The  jug- 
gler and  the  gymnast,  the  mechanic  and  the  artist,  the  dancer  and  the 
player  on  the  violin  or  the  organ,  do  not  simply  train  the  bodily  organs  to 
the  requisite  suppleness  and  aptitudes,  but  they  acquire  a  surprising  readi- 
ness of  the  mind  to  connect  with  every  movement  the  sensations  which 
indicate  the  activities  and  efforts  to  which  the  body  is  physically 
trained.  If  a  mental  facility  supposes  a  mental  difficulty,  what  is  this 
difficulty  ?  It  is,  first  of  all,  a  difficulty  of  mental  application  to  certain 
mental  objects,  and,  with  this,  a  difficulty  in  the  ready  mental  combination 
of  the  objects  which  are  required.  This  intellectual  obstacle  is  usually 
increased,  and  in  some  cases  wholly  occasioned,  by  one  that  is  emotional 
or  moral.  The  occupation  of  the  mind  with  this  particular  class  of 
objects,  or  of  objects  in  this  special  form,  is  not  agreeable.  Hence,  the 
great  secret  of  success  is  to  excite  an  interest  of  some  kind  in  the  sub- 
jects that  are  proposed  or  the  efforts  which  are  required.  A  difficulty  or 
hindrance  of  some  sort  must  be  supposed  as  an  original  fact,  in  order  to 
explain  the  universal  and  palpable  necessity  and  attainment  of  intellectual 
progress  and  growth.  The  force  to  be  overcome  cannot  exist  in  ideas  or 
relations  as  such,  but  in  the  mind's  own  acts  concerning  ideas  and  rela- 
tions. If  this  is  the  case,  the  difficulty  must  arise  from  an  original  defi- 
ciency in  the  aptitudes  of  all  men  for  certain  applications  of  the  energies  to 
certain  objects  and  relations,  and  for  the  exercise  of  certain  mental  pow- 
ers. We  must,  as  has  already  been  asserted,  assume  as  an  ultimate  fact 
that  for  all  men  a  certain  exercise  of  sense-perception  is  easy,  while  the 
close  application  of  consciousness  is  difficult.  So  also  concrete  knowledge 
is  easy  ;  generalized  or  abstract  knowledge  is  difficult.  To  some,  the  study 
of  language  is  natural,  while  the  study  of  the  mathematics  is  especially 
-epulsive. 

In  habits  that  are  purely  mental,  as  in  the  greater  facility  that  is  acquired  by 
Wherein  the  study  in  general,  or  the  surprising  progress  which  may  be  made  in  any 
difficulty  lies.  special  science,  as  the  mathematics  or  the  languages,  or  the  still  more 

unlooked-for  dexterity  which  may  be  gained  in  certain  intellectual  feats,  as 
•»f  punning,  rhyming,  etc.,  etc.,  the  difficulty  lies  in  a  reluctant  or  unwonted  attention,  and  the 
dexterity  pertains  to  the  subjective  tendency  toward  similar  activities  which  is  acquired  by 
exercise.  The  difficulty  and  the  facility  are  assumed  to  be  unquestioned  and  original  facts. 

When  the  habits  are  purely  emotional  or  moral,  so  far  as  they  can  be  con- 
Emotional  and  ceived  as  such,  the  difficulty  to  be  encountered  is  a  natural  or  acquired  ten. 
moral  habits.  <jency  in  an  emotion  to  excessive  and  abnormal  activity.  This  tendency  can 

be  overcome  only  by  the  frequent  exercise  of  other  emotions,  till  they  ac> 
jrith  proper  readiness  and  strength.  Leaving  out  of  account  the  voluntary  element,  or  rathei 


THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §269, 

supposing  that  this  is  rightly  adjusted,  it  may  be  assumed  that  this  original  difficulty  in 
the  natural  tendencies  remains  when  the  new  habits  are  to  be  acquired. 

The  completion  of  moral  or  emotional  habits  ordinarily  involves  also  the  training  of  the 
intellectual  habits  to  the  ready  suggestion  of  new  thoughts,  and  very  often  of  the  bodv 
itself,  to  readiness  in  appropriate  actions. 

This  general  survey  of  the  extent  and  common  features  of  the  conditions  and  the 
operation  of  habit  brings  of  itself  an  argument  of  strong  probability  in  favor  of  the  view 
which  we  have  taken,  that  the  law  of  mental  suggestion  or  association  is  only  a  special  form  of 
this  general  law  or  principle. 

§  268.    The  laws  of  association  are  asrain  divided  into  higher 

Higher  and  low- 
er laws  of  asso-    and  lower.     The  lower,  are  those  which  are  presented  to  us 

elation. 

in  the  acquisitions  of  sense  and  consciousness,  and  which  are 
reproduced  by  the  representative  imagination  or  th-e  uncultured  memory. 
These  are  the  relations  of  time  and  space.  As  they  are  more  obvious  and 
natural,  they  require  little  of  higher  culture  or  discipline.  They  are  also 
developed  earliest  in  the  order  of  time,  and  are  common  to  the  whole  race. 
The  relations  of  likeness  and  of  contrast  form  an  intermediate  class  be- 
tween the  natural  and  the  philosophical ;  being  now  present  in  the  one, 
and  then  largely  represented  in  the  other.  The  higher,  are  the  relations 
of  cause  and  effect  /  involving  means  and  end,  premise  and  conclusion, 
datum  and  inference,  genus  and  species,  law  and  example — all,  in  short, 
of  the  so-called  philosophical  or  logical  relations.  All  these  are  present 
in  and  control  the  higher  imagination  and  the  more  developed  processes 
of  thought 

I*  is  to  be  observed,  that  these  relations  are  not  higher  or  lower  in  the  scale 
hie-her  andSfov-  °^  ran^  or  ^igm'*y?  as  relations  of  association  or  representation  merely,  but 
«*•  as  relations  of  original  acquisition  and  thought.  Inasmuch,  however,  as  the 

intellectual  power  of  men  and  their  individual  peculiarities,  as  well  as  the 
character  of  the  products  which  result  from  the  peculiarities  of  thought  and  feeling,  depend 
on  the  movements  of  the  representative  faculty ;  the  rank,  the  comparative  dignity,  and 
mutual  influence  of  these  relations,  deserve  special  consideration.  What  a  man  is,  is  con- 
veniently described  and  most  satisfactorily  accounted  for  by  the  recognition  of  the  leading 
connections  and  guiding  principles  after  which  thoughts  come  into  his  mind.  The  products  of 
his  intellect  in  his  conversation,  his  writings,  and  his  reasonings,  as  also  in  his  beliefs  and  his 
principles,  reflect  the  operation  of  these  relations  as  lower  and  higher  (cf.  Dugald  Stewart, 
Memento,  p  i.  §  6). 

The  higher  often    §  269.    The  higher  relations  of  thought  and  of  the  creative 

prevail  over  and     ... 

displace  the  low-  imagination  are  so  diverse  from  the  lower  relations  of  sense, 
that  they  often  supersede  and  displace  them,  if  they  do  not 
cross  and  contradict  them.  In  sense-perception  and  consciousness,  objects 
most  opposed  and  incongruous  are  conjoined,  just  as  they  happen  to  present 
themselves  in  space  or  in  time.  The  mechanical  memory  or  imagination 
servilely  reproduces  them  under  precisely  the  same  relations  in  which  they 
were  originally  presented  and  known.  But  thought  and  the  higher  im 
igination  take  the  objects  thus  accidentally  conjoined,  and  recombine  and 
reproduce  them  under  the  relations  that  are  higher;  selecting,  perhaps, 


§  270.  THE   CONDITIONS    AND   LAWS    OF    REPRESENTATION.  291 

a  few  prominent  facts  or  elements  as  the  prominent  objects  of  its  intel 
lectual  energy,  and  leaving  the  rest  unnoticed  and  unregarded.  It  is  quite 
easy  to  see  how  it  is  possible  that  this  higher  activity  of  representation 
may  in  many  individuals  greatly  prevail  over  that  which  is  lower,  so  far 
even  as  to  exclude  the  normal  and  natural  influence  of  the  latter.  By  such 
excess,  many  not  uncommon  diversities  of  intellectual  and  moral  character 
can  easily  be  explained,  and  those  striking  idiosyncrasies  of  imagination 
and  memory  can  be  accounted  for  which  are  designated  by  the  vaguely- 
used  term,  absent-mindedness. 

The  absent-minded  person  is  one  who  has  habitually  become  so  indifferent 
Absent-minded-     and  inattentive  to  the  objects  which  address  his  senses,  through  preoccu- 
pation with  a  roving  Imagination  or  abstracted  thought,  that  his  senses  seem 
often  to  be  unused,  and  his  memory  to  be  utterly  untrustworthy.     He  be- 
comes sublimely,  or  perhaps  ridiculously,  indifferent  to  the  common  relations  of  common 
objects  and  events.     The  effect  upon  the  memory  and  the  imagination  of  a  similar  reversal 
of  the  intentions  of  nature,  will  be  explained  under  the  appropriate  heads. 

§  270.  As  the  higher  may  take  the  place  of  the  lower 
place  thlSgher"  relations,  so  the  lower  may  exclude  or  displace  the  higher. 

The  constant  or  even  the  frequent  conjunction  of  objects 
and  phenomena  may  in  consequence  be  mistaken  for  their  necessary  rela- 
tions or  essential  conditions  or  constituents.  A  savage,  who  should  see 
gunpowder  exploded  by  an  electric  spark,  would  associate  the  whole  of 
the  electric  apparatus,  and  perhaps  even  the  words  and  the  dress  of  the 
operator,  with  the  occurrence  of  the  explosion,  and  take  the  combination 
to  be  made  by  a  necessary  connection  of  things.  The  ignoramus  who 
sees  a  conjurer  perform  certain  manipulations,  or  hears  him  repeat  the 
words  of  some  incantation  in  connection  with  a  surprising  feat,  unites  the 
two  by  an  association  so  inveterate  as  to  believe  that  the  one  is  the  cause 
of  the  other.  The  manifold  and  inveterate  superstitions  that  have  been 
so  readily  accepted  and  so  tenaciously  retained,  are  in  this  way  to  be  ex- 
plained. Startling  or  noticeable  events  have  occurred  together  by  a  merely 
casual  connection,  which  have  been  henceforward  associated  as  essential 
the  one  to  the  other ;  as,  to  success  in  battle,  the  healing  of  disease,  the 
removal  of  an  epidemic,  the  termination  of  drought,  the  cessation  of  an 
eclipse,  or  the  acceptable  performance  of  some  religious  rite. 

We  assume  that  the  original  observation  of  the  relation  of  events  conjoined,  may  have 
been  hasty,  and  that  the  judgment  reached  has  been  in  consequence  unauthorized.  There  has 
beep  no  real  discernment  of  the  cause,  or  law,  or  adaptation  that  was  sought  for.  Some 
inessential  connection  has  taken  their  place,  and  the  objects  casually  united  in  a  hasty 
observation  being  perpetually  presented  in  a  conjunction  of  time  or  place,  are  associated  so 
fixedly,  that  the  philosophical  or  religious  superstition  has  a  show  of  plausibility  or  reason. 
Whether  it  has  or  not,  it  retains  its  hold  upon  the  mind.  Nor  are  errors  of  this  sort  confined 
to  uncultured  and  ignorant  races  or  uneducated  men.  Men  of  quick  association  and  ready 
suggestion,  even  if  they  attain  the  highest  culture  in  many  directions,  often  scorn  that  disci- 
pline to  philosophical  thinking  of  which  they  stand  in  special  need  because,  from  the  very 


THE   HUMAN   INTjiLLECT.  §271 

quickness  of  their  power  to  combine,  they  are  most  liable  to  mistake  the  asssociationa  of 
their  various  and  ready  wit  for  the  sober  and  solid  relations  of  thought. 

The  lower  asso-    8  271.   The  lower  associations — those  of  constant  or  frequent 

ciations       affect      '  .  , 

the  feelings  most  conjunction — are  most  observable  when  they  strongly  affect 
our  feelings.  Objects  which  are  in  themselves  indifferent, 
or  which  ought  to  be  and  would  otherwise  be  positively  offensive,  excite 
the  intensest  misliking,  simply  because  they  are  connected  in  our  thoughts 
with  objects  which  in  their  essential  nature  are  fitted  to  please  or  dis- 
please us.  For  example,  a  dress  that  itself,  in  color,  form,  and  fitting, 
is  tasteful,  becomes  permanently  displeasing,  as  well  as  any  that  resemble 
it,  because  it  brings  distinctly  to  mind  a  very  disagreeable  person  who 
wore  it.  The  remembrance  of  a  journey,  or  some  other  event  of  our  per- 
sonal history,  is  always  unwelcome,  because  it  was  connected  in  our  expe- 
rience, and  is  therefore  associated  in  our  thoughts,  with  some  serious 
disappointment  or  calamity.  The  sight  of  the  surgeon  who  saved  our 
life  by  performing  a  painful  operation,  is  not  always  agreeable,  however 
sincere  may  be  our  gratitude.  Certain  persons  are  very  pleasing  or  very 
displeasing,  because  they  bring  to  mind  memories  or  thoughts  which  we 
cherish  or  reject. 

A  dress  of  the  newest  fashion  may  be  at  first  singular  and  unattracthe.  But 
How  and  why  it  is  soon  generally  worn  by  those  who  are  attractive  in  appearance,  graceful 
fashions  change.  and  regne(j  fa  manners,  and  high  in  social  position.  It  is  soon  regarded  as 

in  itself  highly  graceful  and  agreeable,  till  no  other  is  tolerable.  It  is  not 
long  before  it  becomes  common,  and  this  detracts  somewhat  from  its  factitious  attractions. 
When  it  is  worn  obtrusively  by  the  filthy  and  vulgar,  and  becomes  conspicuous  in  connection 
with  persons  who  are  rightfully  disagreeable,  it  is  time  that  this  fashion  should  change,  or  chat 
some  other  novelty  should  appear,  in  order  to  relieve  the  associations  of  the  fashionable  world 
from  the  offensive  taint  of  vulgarity. 

The  moral  influence  of  accidental  associations  is  still  more 

The  moral  influ-  . 

ence  of  casual  worthy  of  attention,  for  their  power  for  evil  as  well  as  their 
capacity  for  good.  Pleasing  manners,  high  intellectual  cul- 
ture, the  attractions  of  wealth  and  position,  may  be  combined  with  liber 
tine  principles  and  easy  morals,  and  thus  become  powerful  aids  and  instru- 
ments of  vice  and  corruption.  The  drunken  revel  may,  by  the  force  of 
associations  of  this  kind,  not  only  be  endured  as  less  disgusting,  but  it 
may  be  gloried  in  by  the  aspirant  after  high  society,  as  the  sign  of  gentle- 
manly breeding  and  fashionable  life.  The  horrors  of  the  first  cigar  and 
the  first  debauch  are  greatly  alleviated  by  manifold  suggestions  that  the 
experience  of  both  are  necessary  to  constitute  the  gentleman.  The  easy 
manners,  the  gay  life,  and  the  generous  hospitality  of  the  cavaliers  of 
Charles  I.,  and  of  the  courtiers  of  Charles  II.,  lent  a  charm  to  their  cause 
and  a  fascination  to  their  name  and  memory ;  while  the  unnatural  strict- 
ness, the  over-stiff  manners,  and  the  precise  pedantry  of  the  Puritans  have 
caused  thoir  pure  morals,  their  patriotic  heroism,  and  their  fervent  piety  tc 


§272.  THE    CONDITIONS   AND   LAWS    OP   KEPKESENTATION.  299 

be  odious  in  the  minds  of  many  noble  men,  and  have  burdened  their  very 
name  with  associations  of  contempt  and  reproach. 

§  272.    The  force  of  casual  associations  is  in  no  particulai 

Influence  of  cas- 
ual associations    more  conspicuous  than  m  its  influence  upon  language.      A 

deed  that  is  abhorrent  to  the  conscience  and  offensive  to  the 
judgment  and  feelings  of  right-minded  and  plain-speaking  men,  is  more 
than  half  reconciled  to  the  moral  feelings,  and  perhaps  is  installed  among 
the  virtues,  by  softening  or  dignifying  the  appellations  by  which  it  is 
named — that  is,  by  designating  it  by  words  that  suggest  associations  of 
respectability  and  honor.  Men  seek  to  keep  down  or  to  avoid  associations 
of  disgust  or  abhorrence  by  the  device  of  euphemistic  terminology.  It  is> 
not  always  true  that  '  vice  loses  half  its  evil  by  losing  all  its  grossness  ; 
for  the  very  grossness  which  is  its  natural  manifestation  and  result,  ig 
sometimes  the  best  defence  of  society  against  the  corruption  to  which  it 
tends.  To  seek  to  divest  it  of  the  offensive  associations  which  this  gross- 
ness  is  fitted  to  excite,  by  substituting  associations  which  are  less  unpleas- 
ant, is  often  to  defeat  one  of  the  intentions  of  nature,  which  would  keep 
the  conscience  honest  and  true,  if  she  cannot  make  the  conduct  right 
(cf.  J.  S.  Mill,  Logic,  B.  iv.  chap.  v.  §§  3,  4). 

The  power  of  epithets  and  names  to  awaken  pleasant  01 
andc^eftliet8  unpleasant  associations  is  well  illustrated  in  the  history  of 

parties  and  in  the  practice  of  partisans.  A  party  that  is  en- 
cumbered by  an  epithet  or  appellation  of  odious  associations'  or  disagree- 
able origination,  hastens  to  disencumber  itself  of  an  appendage  that  ia 
more  fatal  than  the  shirt  of  Nessus ;  while  its  opponents  are  as  eager  and 
determined  that  it  shall  retain  the  damaging  reproach.  There  are  cities 
of  Europe  in  which  the  use  by  one  man  to  another  of  certain  epithets  or 
gestures,  which  of  themselves  are  harmless  and  innocent,  is  resented  as  the 
deadliest  of  insults,  simply  because  these  are  associated  with  a  shameful 
and  humiliating  passage  in  their  history.  The  skilful  application  of  epi- 
thets like  Whig  and  Tory,  Malignant  and  Roundhead,  Girondists  and 
the  Mountain,  Conservative  and  Radical,  is  often  more  efficient  with  the 
populace  than  the  most  convincing  arguments  or  the  most  persuasive  elo- 
quence. Agreeable  associations,  through  the  subtle  reaction  of  language, 
have  not  only  palliated — they  have  even  recommended  the  most  contempt- 
ible follies,  the  most  outrageous  violence,  and  the  most  abominable 
crimes. 

Even  philosophy  herself,  though  professing  to  be  subject  to  thought-relations 
Their  influence  only,  is  by  no  means  exempt  from  the  influence  of  casual  associations  oper- 
In  philosophy.  atjng  through  this  same  medium  of  words.  It  is  often  more  effective,  even 

in  the  schools,  to  apply  an  epithet,  as  sensuous  or  spiritual,  empirical  or 
rational,  unselfish  or  utilitarian,  than  it  is  to  disprove  an  analysis  or  answer  an  argument — to 
give  an  opinion  an  odious  name,  or  apply  a  contemptuous  epithet,  than  to  consider  its  evidence 
or  refute  its  reasons.  The  soberest  and  the  best-governed  men  are  more  or  less  affected  bj 
individual  associations  in  their  tastes,  their  preferences,  their  manners,  their  reading,  thei 


300  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §273. 

companions,  their  politics,  and  their  faith.  We  could  not  be  wholly  aloof  or  exempt  from 
their  influence  if  we  would.  We  would  not  if  we  could ;  for,  in  so  doing,  we  should  forego 
much  of  our  individuality,  and  of  that  which  makes  our  individuality  dear.  But  it  is  the 
interest  and  duty  of  every  man  so  far  to  regulate  the  influence  of  such  associations,  that  he 
does  not  become  the  easy  victim  or  the  abject  slave  of  chance  and  arbitrary  circumstances. 
Whatever  is  right  and  true  cannot  be  disagreeable,  when  it  is  sustained,  adorned,  and  hal- 
lowed by  associations  that  are  only  attractive.  Indeed,  it  is  not  till  the  reason  and  conscience 
rule  so  completely  over  the  whole  man,  as  to  transform  and  elevate  even  the  individual  and 
casual  associations,  that  the  education  of  man  is  complete,  and  his  character  has  attained  that 
harmony  and  perfection  of  which  it  is  capable. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

REPRESENTATION. (l.)    THE   MEMORY,    OR   RECOGNIZING    FACULTY 

HAVING  considered  the  conditions  and  laws  of  the  representative  power,  we  proceed  to  appty 
the  results  of  our  inquiries  to  the  explanation  of  the  principal  modes  in  which  its  activ- 
ity is  exerted — to  the  so-called  faculties  of  memory,  phantasy,  and  imagination.  The 
memory  comes  first  in  order,  because  it  is  at  once  the  most  natural  and  yet  the  most 
perfect  form  hi  which  the  power  is  used. 

The  elements  ^  2^3'  -^n  act  or  state  °^  memoi7  has  already  been  defined 
acUframo  an  ^°  ^e  ^na^  *n  wni°n  ^ne  essential  elements  of  an  act  of  pre- 
vious cognition  are  more  or  less  perfectly  re-known,  both 
objective  and  subjective,  with  the  relations  essential  to  each.  These  ele- 
ments are  not  all  recalled  with  the  same  distinctness,  and  hence  there  are 
varieties  of  memory ;  but  it  is  essential  to  an  act  of  memory  that  some 
portion  of  each  of  these  elements  and  relations  should  be  recalled  and 
reknown. 

For  example :  I  remember  an  event  which  occurred  an  hour  ago— that  a  friend  made  me  a 
call,  or  passed  me,  as  I  was  walking  in  the  street.  What  is  involved  in  this  act  of  memory  ? 
First  of  all,  I  must  reproduce  the  image  of  my  friend  as  before  me,  or  as  he  passed  ;  second, 
I  must  recall  the  image  or  recollection  of  myself  as  seeing  or  conversing  with  him,  perhaps 
with  more  or  less  feeling.  Unless  both  these  elements  are  recalled,  the  object  perceived  or  in 
Borne  way  cognized,  and  myself  in  the  act  of  apprehending  <md  perhaps  of  feeling — i.  e.,  the 
objective  and  subjective  elements — the  act  cannot  be  an  act  of  memory.  If  we  recall  or 
represent  any  event  or  object,  and  say  we  remember  it,  we  must  also  recall  ourselves  in  some 
act  or  state  related  to  it.  Third,  the  act  of  originally  knowing  the  object  or  event  was  my  act 
— i.  e.,  I,  the  same  being  who  now  recall  and  reknow  it  in  the  ways  described,  did  know  it 
before.  The  act  of  knowing  the  object,  and  of  having  known  it,  are  acts  of  the  same  being. 
Fourth,  the  two  acts  are  hi  this  process  also  distinguished  as  before  and  after,  the  present  as 
actual,  the  past,  both  act  and  object,  as  having  been  actual.  This  involves  the  distinctions  of 
before  and  after,  or  tie  relations  of  succession  involving  time.  Fifth,  in  the  original  act  of 
observation  I  must  have  been  in  some  place,  and  the  object  observed  must  have  sustained 
some  relation  to  attending  or  accompanying  objects.  Neither  myself  nor  the  object  can  orJi 


'§  274,  REPRESENTATION. — THE    MEMORY.  301 

narily  be  recalled  without  some  of  these  accompaniments  involving  relations  to  space.  Sixth, 
the  objective  and  subjective  elements,  and  the  relations  which  they  involve,  thus  recalled  aa 
images,  must  be  known  to  represent  realities.  What  is  involved  in  this  relation  of  the  image 
to  a  reality,  and  how  it  is  possible,  has  already  been  discussed  and  explained  (P.  II.  c.  ii.). 

These  elements  §  2^4-  These  are  the  necessary  elements  in  an  act  or  state 
wSi be  inequiS  °f  memory.  But  though  they  must  all  be  present  and  enter 

into  such  a  state,  they  need  not  be  present  with  the  same 
fulness  or  distinctness  at  all  times,  nor  with  the  same  relative  fulness  at 
the  same  time.  The  total  complex  of  objects  and  relations  may  be  re- 
called more  or  less  perfectly,  or  each  of  the  constituent  elements  may  be 
more  or  less  vividly  represented. 

First :  The  object  of  the  original  act  may  be  recalled  with  a 

f he  object  prop-  »• 

*r,  of  the  origi-  greater  or  less  completeness  of  its  elements  or  parts.  If  the 
object  be  purely  a  thought-object  which  we  remember  to 
have  cognized  before,  or  a  material  object  which  is  now  present  only  as  a 
mental  image,  it  may  be  only  vaguely  recalled  at  best,  and  its  constituent 
elements  may  be  only  very  scantily  reproduced.  Even  if  it  is  a  sense- 
object  which  we  perceive  a  second  time,  and  remember  as  having  been 
perceived  before,  it  may  be  that  only  a  very  small  number  of  its  distin- 
guishable parts  can  be  thus  recalled,  as  having  been  thus  previously  per- 
ceived. 

Second :  The  original  act  of  the  mind  in  the  first  appreh^n- 
The  original  act  sion  may  also  be  more  or  less  perfectly  recalled.  I  see  a  faca 

of  knowledge.  •  » 

in  a  crowd.  I  recall  it  perfectly,  and  know  that  I  have  seen 
it  before  ;  but  J  cannot  revive  a  single  vestige  of  myself  as  viewing  it,  only 
that  I  did  thus  view  it  I  am  certain  by  direct  knowledge.  And  yet  we 
must  have  this  recollection  of  our  previous  activity  or  feeling,  or  we  cannot 
be  said  to  remember  it  at  all.  This  certain  knowledge  may  vary  from  the 
vaguest  possible  impressions  of  our  subjective  state,  to  the  most  vivid  and 
circumstantial  reviewal  of  every  part  or  feature. 

It  might  perhaps  be  suggested  that  this  is  not  literally  true  of  all  remembered  objects, 
especially  of  those  with  which  we  are  the  most  familiar,  and  which  we  are  most  certain  that 
we  have  often  known ;  as  the  streets  and  houses  of  our  place  of  residence,  or  the  persons  of 
our  most  familiar  friends,  or  the  facts  of  familiar  knowledge,  as  the  dates  of  the  accession 
of  the  sovereigns  of  England,  of  the  beginning  of  our  own  national  life,  and  the  myriad 
familiar  facts  of  school  acquisition.  We  are  accustomed  to  say  that  we  remember  these 
objects  ;  and  yet  we  do  not  in  all,  nor  in  most  cases,  distinctly  recall  our  act  or  state  when  we 
first  learned  them,  nor  any  previous  act  in  whicli  we  accepted  them  as  true.  We  may  not 
dwell  upon  such  acts  or  states,  it  is  true,  because  we  do  not  give  the  associating  power  time  01 
play  enough  to  call  up  so  complete  a  picture  ;  but  if  we  could  not  recall  some  such  previous 
act  of  perception  or  assent,  we  do  not  properly  remember  the  object. 

Third :  The  time  when  the  object  was  previously  known  may 

its  relations  of   be  mOre  or  less  perfectly  recalled.     If  I  remember  an  object 

viewed  or  experienced  half  an  hour  ago,  I  may  recall  the 


302  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  jj  275, 

leading  events  which  have  happened  to  me  from  the  present  moment  back- 
ward  to  the  original  act  of  acquiring  this  knowledge.  If  it  was  yester 
day,  or  a  month  since,  I  can  generally  recall  the  events  that  were  just 
before  and  after  it,  and  can  connect  it  with  the  present  by  more  or  fewer 
intervening  occurrences,  can  fix  the  date  so  far  as  to  know  that  it  was  in 
a  certain  month  of  a  certain  year ;  the  attendants  of  which  dates  I  can 
recover  with  more  or  less  fulness. 

In  some  cases,  the  event  stands  isolated  in  the  dim  and  undetermined  past.  In  others,  it 
may  not  be  wholly  isolated  from  the  events  which  preceded,  accompanied,  or  followed,  but  yet 
it  can  scarcely  be  said  to  be  united  with  the  present  by  any  connecting  series  of  events  that 
intervene. 

Fourth :  The  place  where,  may  be  more  or  less  perfectly 
piace.elations  °f  recaUed  and  recognized.  The  place  where,  is  a  phrase  which 

denotes  the  adjacent  and  surrounding  physical  objects  in 
their  spatial  relations,  which  form  the  background  and  the  setting  of  every 
object  perceived  or  every  act  of  the  person  who  remembers.  Every  object 
previously  observed,  every  act  of  my  own  in  observing  it,  when  them- 
selves recalled,  will  bring  back  this  accompanying  setting  more  or  less 
perfectly,  according  as  these  accompaniments  were  originally  regarded 
with  a  more  or  less  energetic  and  interested  attention,  or  as  a  longer  or 
shorter  time  is  allowed  for  the  process  of  suggestion  and  recovery. 

§  275.    Fifth  :  The  knowledge  of  the  real  existence  or  actual 

The  act  of  recog- 
nition may  vary    perception   of    remembered   objects   may  also   vary  in   the 

in  positiveness.  .,,...,.—. 

degree  of  accuracy  or  confidence  with  which  it  is  held.  For 
this  simple  knowledge  no  other  explanation  can  be  given,  than  that  the 
mind  is  competent  to  its  exercise.  The  question  is  sometimes  asked,  Why 
do  we  trust  our  memory  ?  To  this  philosophers  have  sought  to  give  an 
answer  by  enumerating  certain  grounds  or  criteria — as  that  the  object 
must  be  clear,  or  that  the  image  recalled  must  represent  or  agree  with  the 
reality.  But  all  these  criteria,  or  grounds,  are  merely  other  words  or 
phrases,  which  express  no  more  than  the  act  of  knowledge  itself. 

But  does  the  mind  always  know — i.  e.,  remember — with  equal  certainty? 
Do  we  never  dis-  Does  it  not  sometimes  distrust  its  own  act  in  remembering  ?  And  is  there 
O^ST  "  not  a  difference  observed  between  the  act  of  doubting  and  of  confidently 

remembering,  which  justifies  us  in  trusting  the  one  and  in  distrusting  the 
other  ?  We  answer :  When  we  distrust  our  own  act  of  memory,  it  is  we  ourselves  who  are 
not  certain.  We  seek  to  be  certain ;  sometimes  we  succeed,  and  pass  from  the  condition  of 
painful  doubt  into  fhat  of  confident  knowledge.  The  object  which  was  vaguely  recalled  now 
stands  vividly  and  distinctly  before  the  eye  of  the  mind.  But  the  clearness  and  distinctness 
of  the  objects  are  not  the  real  causes  which  effect,  or  the  logical  grounds  on  which  we  rest 
our  positive  knowledge.  The  terms  distinct  and  distinctly,  objectively  describe  the  sub. 
jective  certainty,  but  do  not  account  for  or  justify  it.  When  we  distrust  our  memory,  we 
are  aware  Df  our  own  distrust — we  are  clearly  and  perfectly  certain  that  we  do  not  positively 
remember.  But  as  soon  as  we  do  remember,  we  not  only  know  that  we  are  confider  t,  but  we 
know  that  that  concerning  which  we  are  thus  confident  was  indeed  a  reality. 


§276.  REPRESENTATION. THE   MEMORY.  303 

*  But  do  we  not  sometimes  offer  reasons  to  satisfy  or  prove  to  ourselves  that 

Do  we  not  offer     wna<   we  remember  must  have  been  a  fact?'     We  do  often  enumerate  the 
reasons  for  trust-  .    '  . 

ing  it  1  circumstances  which  assure  us  that  we  cannot  be  mistaken,  but  not  as  logical 

reasons  to  justify  the  conclusion  that  we  are  in  the  right,  nor  as  decisive 
criteria  to  distinguish  that  which  is  imagined,  from  that  which  actually  took  place.  We  bring 
them  up  as  particulars  on  which  we  dwell  with  attention,  for  the  purpose  of  recreating  a  more 
complete  and  vivid  picture  of  the  past.  In  this  sense  we  are  said  to  refresh  our  memory — as 
a  witness  in  court  is  asked  or  urged  to  do,  when  one  or  another  circumstance  is  repeated  in 
his  hearing,  or  he  is  left  to  his  own  associations  to  revive  the  past.  We  are  sometimes  said  to 
verify  our  memory,  but  only  in  this  sense  :  We  say,  I  cannot  be  mistaken,  for  it  was  on  such 
a  day  and  in  such  a  place,  and  such  a  person  or  persons  were  present,  etc.,  etc. ;  but  all  this  is 
simply  our  own  thinking  aloud,  as  we  paint  into  the  mental  picture  one  element  after  another ; 
our  certainty  all  the  while  becoming  more  positive.  We  may  indeed  urge  this  number  of 
remembered  particulars  as  reasons  why  others  should  trust  our  accuracy  since  our  remem- 
brance is  so  full  and  detailed,  but  not  as  grounds  or  criteria  for  our  own  confidence.  For  this 
confidence  we  can  give  no  other  reason  than  that  we  find  ourselves  possessed  of  and  using  the 
power  for  this  very  function,  which  is,  to  remember.  And  yet  this  act  is  exercised,  as  is  every 
other  act  of  the  soul,  with  unequal  energy.  Our  confidence  admits  of  various  degrees,  from 
the  lowest  belief  of  objects  indistinctly  recalled,  to  the  highest  confidence  concerning  past 
Bcenee  vividly  and  fully  reproduced. 


§  276.  A  more  exact  and  technical  description  of  memory 
can*  definldhni~  wou^  be  tne  following.  Memory  is  a  modification  of  repre- 
sentation. It  supposes  the  representative  power  to  be  re- 
quired in  order  to  furnish  the  materials,  conditions,  or  objects  for  itself 
to  work  with  or  upon,  according  to  the  laws  of  association  or  sugges- 
tion. These  objects  being  furnished,  the  memory,  or  the  mind  in  memory, 
knows  them  by  an  act  of  recognition.  More  briefly,  representation  recalls, 
memory  recognizes.  The  soul,  in  representation,  is  passive,  blind,  and 
mechanical,  proceeding  according  to  fixed  and  inevitable  laws,  by  methods 
or  processes  which  occcur  beyond  or  out  of  consciousness.  The  soul,  in 
memory,  on  the  other  hand,  is  active,  intelligent,  and  rational.  The  dis- 
tinction between  representation  and  memory,  so  far  as  our  actual  expe- 
rience is  concerned,  is  rather  ideal  than  real,  for  representation  passes  into 
memory  by  an  inevitable  certainty,  through  the  easiest,  the  most  natural, 
and  usually  the  most  unnoticed  transitions.  The  laws  of  representation  are 
certain,  if  suffered  to  act  long  enough,  to  bring  before  the  mind  those 
materials  which,  when  presented,  it  usually  assents  to  by  an  act  of  knowl- 
edge or  recognition,  which  is  memory. 

The  psychologists  of  the  associational  school  provide  for  only  half  the  process— that  of 
representation.  The  recognition  they  attempt  to  explain,  but  unsuccessfully,  by  the  chem- 
istry of  association — i.  e.,  by  the  union  or  blending  of  a  present  with  a  past  mental  state. 

Representation  and  memory  may,  however,  with  propriety  and  advantage,  be  ideally  con 
Bidered  apart.  At  times  they  are  really  separate.  Objects  may  be  represented,  but  not 
recognized,  through  haste,  or  the  diversion  of  the  attention,  or  some  unexplained  withholding 
of  the  act  of  knowledge. 


804  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  278 

§  277.  Representation,  conceived  apart  from  memory,  may 
theeflr^eiement  begin  with  a  mental  image,  and  by  the  laws  of  its  own 
activity  present  another,  and  still  another,  till  all  at  once  the 
intelligence  asserts,  c  That  one  now  presented  I  have  perceived  or  known 
before. '  Or  the  object  may  be  material,  and  first  perceived  by  the  senses. 
In  such  a  case,  representation,  at  once  supplies  a  completing  image  or 
thought,  and  memory  pronounces,  'This  very  object  have  I  perceived 
before.'  According  as  the  occasion  to  memory  is  a  mental  or  a  perceived 
object,  do  the  phenomena  of  memory  differ. 

Memory,  on  the  other  hand,  as  distinguished  from  represen- 
Cation,  is  an  act  of  knowledge.  To  know,  requires  objects, 
and  the  discernment  of  their  relations.  The  different  kinds 
or  modes  of  knowledge  differ  from  one  another  both  in  the  objects  and 
relations  known  (§  51).  The  conditions  or  objects  of  memory  are  pecu- 
liar, in  that,  as  has  just  been  explained,  representation  presents  or  suggests 
more  or  fewer  of  them.  The  relations  under  which  they  are  discerned  are, 
aa  we  have  shown  at  length,  those  of  previous  apprehension  by  myself  in 
some  determinate  state  of  knowledge  or  feeling,  at  some  previous  time, 
and  in  some  particular  place.  The  act  of  knowledge,  while  it  is  thus  dis- 
tinguished from  other  acts  of  knowledge  by  its  objects  and  relations,  is, 
however,  like  them,  in  that  its  objects  and  relations  are  realities,  and  its 
own  subjective  condition  is  certainty  (§  48). 

8  278.    But  while  we  thus  distinguish  in  an  ideal  way,  and 

The  spontaneous     f  .  .  -,     i  .          , 

and  intentional  by  abstraction,  the  passive  and  the  active  element,  both  must 
be  taken  into  consideration  in  order  to  explain  the  phenomena 
of  memory ;  for,  in  these  phenomena,  each  of  these  elements  modifies  the 
other,  and  both  appear  in  the  activities  and  products  of  this  most  nimble 
and  subtle  agency  of  the  soul.  The  two  are  related  in  memory  somewhat 
as  sensation  proper  and  perception  proper  are  combined  in  the  acts  of 
Bense-perception — the  one  is  inversely  as  the  other.  In  certain  acts  and 
powers  of  memory,  the  passive  or  representational  element  is  prominent 
and  conspicuous  ;  in  others,  the  active  and  rational  is  most  apparent.  Ac- 
cording to  this  feature,  we  distinguish  the  memory  as  spontaneous  and 
intentional.  In  spontaneous  memory,  the  object  remembered,  spontaneous- 
ly occurs  to  the  mind.  In  intentional  memory  it  is  distinctly  sought  after 
until  it  is  found.  In  spontaneous  memory,  the  representative  faculty  is 
prominent,  and  acts  according  to  its  own  appropriate  laws,  while  the  intel- 
ligence waits  only  to  give  its  recognition  to  what  is  presented  to  its  atten- 
tion. In  intentional  memory,  the  intelligence  is  active,  being  distinctly 
aware  that  some  object  has  been  previously  known,  to  recall  which  it  sum- 
mons the  energies  of  the  representative  power  according  to  its  necessary 
laws.  The  two  kinds  of  memory  may  be  advantageously  considered  apart 

The  distinction  of  these  two  kinds  of  memory  is  so  obvious,  and  is  so  readily  observed, 
that  it  is  not  at  all  surprising  that  separate  terms  for  the  two  have  been  employed  in  commoc 


§280.  REPRESENTATION.  —  THE   MEMORY.  305 


life,  and  are  found  in  many  languages.  The  Greeks  have  /j.vfiw  and  avA^vTiffis  ;  the  Latins, 
memoria  and  recordatio  (cf.  Cic.  de  Prov,  43)  ;  the  English,  memory  and  recollection.  It  ia, 
of  course,  not  pretended  —  and  ought  not  to  be  expected  —  that  these  terms  are  always  usert 
with  precision,  or  that  the  two  are  not  often  interchanged.  The  existence  of  two  such  terms, 
each  with  its  appropriate  shade  of  meaning,  can,  however,  only  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact 
that  the  human  Consciousness  has  observed  the  differences  explained. 

§  279.    In  the  spontaneous  memory,  there  are  natural  apti 
The  spontaneous    tudes  and  disabilities,  which  can  only  be  referred  to  some 

mGinory. 

original  difference  of  the  mental  constitution,  which  is  prop- 
erly called  a  strength  or  weakness  of  the  original  powers.  It  is  almost 
superfluous  to  repeat  what  has  been  abundantly  explained,  that  such  apti- 
tudes and  disabilities  do  not  pertain  exclusively  to  the  representative 
energy  as  such,  but  run  through  the  whole  circle  of  the  intellectual  and 
emotional  activities  and  capacities. 

That  such  originaJ  differences  do  exist,  is  an  unquestioned  fact.  For  example  :  one  per. 
eon  hears  a  series  of  unconnected  names  recited,  and  can  repeat  them  all  in  the  precise  order 
in  which  they  were  uttered,  while  another  can  recall  only  now  and  then  one.  The  eye  of 
another  runs  down  a  column  of  figures,  and  he  can  copy  the  whole  from  memory,  while  his 
companion  can  scarcely  recall  a  single  one  of  the  whole.  One  individual  can  learn  a  page  of 
prose  or  poetry  simply  by  reading  or  hearing  it  read  but  once,  while  another  can  with  diffi- 
culty repeat  correctly  a  single  line  or  sentence.  The  power  to  perform  long  and  intricate 
mathematical  calculations  in  the  head,  which,  as  exhibited  by  some  very  young  persons,  like 
Zerah  Colburn,  is  looked  on  as  a  miracle  of  genius,  and  hailed  as  a  sign  of  extraordinary 
promise,  depends  chiefly  on  the  capacity  to  hold  and  recall  at  pleasure  the  results  of  previous 
processes,  so  that  they  stand  depicted  before  the  mind's  eye  as  though  they  were  written  or 
drawn  upon  a  slate  or  blackboard.  Now  and  then  a  rare  scholar  is  met  with,  who  from 
infancy  has  possessed  the  gift  of  retaining,  so  as  to  recall,  every  date,  name,  and  separate  fact 
which  he  has  ever  learned  —  upon  whose  mind,  in  short,  every  object  that  has  ever  been 
acquired  has  left  its  transcript  in  a  vivid  and  abiding  picture. 

Original  differ-  §  280>  TIiat  t*iese  differences  are  natural,  is  manifest  from 
^onta^eous  fc^8'  that  they  cannot  be  remedied  by  any  effort  or  art.  No 
memory.  discipline  of  the  attention,  and  no  determination  of  the  will, 

can  enable  one  who  is  strikingly  deficient,  to  acquire  the  power  of  this  sim- 
ple and  effortless  memory.  That  the  defect  lies  in  some  original  inca- 
pacity, or  some  ineradicable  habit  to  fix  the  attention  with  interest  upon 
the  objects  to  be  recalled,  and  not  upon  the  power  of  representation,  is 
confirmed  by  observation  upon  cases  of  this  kind,  as  well  as  by  the  gen- 
eral law  of  the  workings  of  the  representative  power.  That  the  strength 
or  weakness  in  this  kind  of  memory  is  not  owing  to  the  physical  strength 
or  weakness  of  the  organs  of  sense,  but  to  the  mental  energy  and  the 
moral  direction  with  which  these  physical  instruments  are  applied,  is  abun- 
dantly manifest.  Both  these  are,  however,  greatly  affected  by  a  normal 
and  harmonized  organization  and  healthy  activity  of  the  body,  as  well  aa 
by  the  coolness  and  serenity  of  the  temper,  according  to  laws  which  will  be 
explained  hereafter.  After  making  the  utmost  allowance  for  the  influence 
20 


306  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  282» 

of  temperament,  health,  and  circumstances  of  education  and  development, 
we  are  forced  to  the  conclusion  that  there  is  a  difference  in  the  original 
endowments  of  the  soul  in  respect  to  the  force  of  its  action  upon  single 
objects,  as  well  as  in  the  reach  or  range  of  the  relations  which  it  can  dis- 
cern with  effect  and  recall  with  success.  Analogous  to  differences  in  the 
spontaneous  memory  —  if,  indeed,  they  are  not  examples  of  it  —  are  the 
varying  capacities  to  recall  a  musical  air  so  as  to  repeat  it,  or  to  revive  the 
hnage  of  the  voice  or  manners  of  another  so  as  to  imitate  them. 

The  relations  which  are  employed  in  the  natural  memory  are  most  conspicu 
The  relations  onsly  those  of  simple  contiguity  and  succession.  All  memory  begins  with 
peculiar  to  it.  these  relations,  because  our  earliest  energies  and  acquisitions  commence  with 

objects  of  this  kind.  The  strength  and  range  of  the  memory  of  facts  is  more 
obvious  when  it  is  seen  as  the  memory  of  separate  things,  than  as  the  memory  of  their  higher 
relations.  The  earliest  development  of  this  power  gives  us  the  most  striking  exhibitions  of 
the  presence  or  absence  of  extraordinary  natural  gifts.  In  other  words,  there  is  a  natural 
memory  of  space  and  of  time,  or,  as  we  may  say  in  a  somewhat  narrow  sense,  there  is  a  natu- 
ral memory  of  the  eye  and  of  the  ear.  Using  these  terms,  we  observe  that  in  some  persons 
the  memory  of  the  eye,  while  in  others  the  memory  of  the  ear,  is  conspicuous.  Those  who  are 
remai-kable  for  the  memory  of  the  eye,  are  such  as  can  readily  form  and  distinctly  revive  men- 
tal  pictures  of  objects  in  their  spatial  relations,  as  form,  relative  position,  outline,  and  grouping, 
as  also  of  gradations  and  contrasts  of  color.  Such  persons  can  readily  picture  in  the  mind 
the  details  of  the  front  or  fa9ade  of  a  building,  the  outline  and  filling  in  of  some  remarkable 
tree,  the  features  of  the  face  of  an  acquaintance  or  friend,  the  page  of  a  book  as  presented  to 
the  eye.  Those  who  are  distinguished  for  the  memory  of  the  ear,  or  of  time,  can  recall 
successions  of  sounds  —  if  they  have  a  musical  ear,  of  musical  notes  —  strings  of  names,  or 
words  when  connected  in  significant  sentences.  They  can  repeat  dates  of  uninteresting 
events,  can  retail  long  stories  such  as  make  up  the  gossip  of  a  neighborhood,  or  the  minutiae 
of  the  historic  chronicler.  Superiority  in  the  one  kind  of  memory  is  not  believed  to  be  usually 
accompanied  by  superiority  in  the  other. 

§  281.    A  good  spontaneous  memory,  or,  as  it  is  often  called,  a  good  memory 


T1oa  ^"nta-De*1  *"or  facts  and  dates>  is  generally  and  correctly  regarded  rather  as  a  great  intel- 
ons  memory.  lectual  convenience,  than  as  a  decisive  indication  of  intellectual  power.  It  is 
doubtless  true,  that  many  persons  are  distinguished  by  natural  memory,  who 
are  inferior  in  capacity  for  discrimination,  judgment,  and  reasoning.  It  has  become  a  com- 
mon  observation,  Great  memory,  little  common  sense.  In  such  cases,  the  power  of  discern- 
ing the  higher  relations  may  be  either  originally  deficient,  or  it  may  be  neglected  in  conse- 
quence of  the  predominant  use  of  the  power  to  apprehend,  and,  of  course,  to  recall  objects  in 
the  relations  that  are  most  obvious.  A  very  energetic  mind  may  be  very  limited  in  its  appre- 
hensions, and  will,  of  course,  be  energetic  though  limited  in  its  memory.  It  is  noticeable,  also, 
that  persons  who  become  eminent  in  those  achievements  which  are  proper  to  the  higher  intel- 
lectual powers  and  relations,  are  in  early  life  usually  distinguished  for  the  strength  and  reach 
of  the  memory  of  the  eye  and  the  ear.  In  many  such  cases  extraordinary  powers  of  this  sort  are 
observed  in  the  person's  own  .experience  gradually  to  be  diminished,  till  at  last  they  entirely 
?ease,  as  the  higher  powers  of  the  intellect  are  completely  matured,  or  are  more  constantly  — 
in  a  sense  —  exclusively  exercised.  This  does  not  invariably  occur.  There  are  striking  exam- 
ples of  persons  who  seem  to  forget  nothing,  neither  in  age  nor  in  youth. 

8  282.    There  are  not  a  few  who  carry  into  the  maturity  of  age,  and  into  the 
The  combination     '  ,    A  .       , 

of  a  spontaneous     most  striking  efforts  of  julgment  and  reasoning,  a  memory  that  is  always 

wemory  tl0nal    clear,  vivid,  prompt,  exact,  and  universal  —  a  memory  that  never  forgets  a 
name,  or  loses  a  date,  or  is  at  fault  in  its  recital  of  facts.    Such  are  the  men 


§  284.  REPRESENTATION.  -  THE  MEMORY.  307 

of  universa.  knowledge,  at  least  in  their  own  department  of  study  and  research,  like  Scaligea 
in  ancient  learning  and  criticism,  Pascal,  "  that  prodigy  of  parts,"  Niebuhr  in  history  and 
Statistics,  A.  von  Humboldt  in  physics  both  celestial  and  terrestrial,  Hitter  in  geography, 
Goethe  in  literature  and  art.  The  reason  that  in  these  exempt  cases  the  higher  or  intellectual 
memory  does  not  displace  the  lower,  is  that  the  employments  or  studies  of  the  individual 
require  him  to  be  conversant  with  details  as  well  as  with  their  thought-relations,  with  facts  at» 
well  as  with  principles.  Hence,  the  higher  memory  aids  rather  than  hinders  the  lower  ;  the 
acquisitions  of  the  quick  eye  and  ear  being  fastened  and  fixed  by  the  secondary  processes  oi 
reflex  thought. 

§  283.  The  phenomena  of  the  so-called  intentional  or  volim- 
taiT  memory  next  require  our  attention.  They  are  charac- 
terized by  this  one  general  feature,  that  the  objects  remem- 
bered, instead  of  occurring  to  the  mind  unsought,  are  sought  for  by  a  con- 
scious effort  or  act.  '  But  how  can  this  be  possible  ?  The  very  state- 
ment involves  a  contradiction  in  language  and  an  impossibility  in  fact.  If 
the  mind  seeks,  intending  to  find  or  recover  an  object  lost,  then  it  already 
knows  what  it  seeks  for.  In  other  words,  the  mind  must  already  have 
remembered,  in  order  to  be  put  upon  the  act  of  endeavoring  to  recall.'  In 
reply  and  explanation,  we  observe  that,  if  every  object  remembered  were 
in  all  cases  remembered  with  equal  fulness  and  vividness,  then  the  objec- 
tion would  hold.  If,  in  order  to  remember  at  all,  the  mind  must  recall 
with  equal  energy  and  success  all  which,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  is 
capable  of  being  reproduced,  then  '  to  intend  to  remember  '  would  be 
plainly  precluded  by  our  *  having  already  remembered.'  But  this  is  by  no 
means  true.  The  object  remembered  may  be  considered  as  an  object  — 
whether  object-object  or  subject-object  is  immaterial  —  out  of  all  conscious 
relation  to  the  mind  viewing  or  caring  for  it,  or  an  object  in  such  relation. 

Taken  in  the  first  sense,  the  object  is  capable  of  being  recalled  vaguely  in  its 
The  object  general  outlines,  and  confusedly  in  Its  details,  or  it  can  stand  out  before  the 
lal()W11  eye  of  the  mind  with  the  sharpest  outline,  and  inclose  a  perfect  picture  of 

distinct  minutiae.  We  can  recall  a  house-front,  a  pictured  landscape,  a  human 
face,  merely  as  a  cloudlike  form,  through  which  scarcely  a  single  distinguishable  point  is  visi- 
ble, or  sharp  and  definite  in  outline  and  full  and  distinct  in  detail.  Intentional  memory  is 
possible  whenever  the  mind  can  begin  with  this  vague  object,  and,  knowing  that  it  has  known 
it  as  a  reality,  can  hold  it  to  its  attention,  till,  under  the  laws  of  representation,  the  whole 
emerges  to  conscious  apprehension  in  every  point,  line,  and  color,  and  is  remembered  as  real. 


The   oVect  in    §  284r"    ^ut  *^6  °^Ject  °^  memory  is  more  appropriately  the 
relation  to  the    object  in  some  relation  to  the  previous  activity  of  the  soul 

knowing  mind.        .     *  . 

in  some  given  place  and  at  some  given  time.  This  more 
3omplex  object  admits  also  of  every  variety  and  degree,  from  the  lowest 
up  to  the  highest  conceivable  fulness  and  freshness.  This,  of  course,  proi 
vides  for  the  possibility  that  the  mind  should,  in  its  acts  of  recovery,  go 
through  all  the  intermediate  steps  of  effort  and  intention,  till  the  whole 
object,  as  objective  and  subjective,  is  fully  represented  and  recognized, 
We  may  begin  with  some  faint  recognition  of  the  object  properly  so* 


SOS  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §285 

called,  and  of  the  mind's  own  previous  state  with  respect  t(  it.  We  arc 
in  some  sense  certain  that  we  have  known  something  of  the  o\  ject.  It 
may  be  the  names  in  order  of  the  Sovereigns  of  Great  Britain,  or  of  the 
Presidents  of  the  United  States,  the  date  of  Magna  Charta,  or  of  the 
peace  of  Westphalia ;  or  it  may  be  we  have  charged  our  minds  with  a 
number  of  acts  to  perform,  as  certain  visits  to  make,  or  sundry  commis- 
sions to  execute,  and  we  can  recall  all  but  one,  or  perhaps  two.  The  sense 
of  deficiency  may  be  a  rational  or  logical  inference  that  we  must  have 
known  these  facts,  or  it  may  be  an  undefined  certainty  that  something  is 
wanting  to  complete  the  whole  which  we  once  apprehended,  or  it  may  be 
some  more  or  less  distinct  recall  and  recognition  of  our  own  state  when 
apprehending  the  object,  now  vaguely  or  totally  unrecalled. 

In  recovering  the  whole,  we  may  begin  with  that  which  is  eminently  obiec- 
Several  ways  of 

recovering  the  tive.  We  may  set  oft  with  some  object  which  we  are  sure,  m  our  previous 
object  sought  knowie(jgej  na(j  some  relation  to  that  which  we  seek — as  the  dates  of  some 

events  that  occurred  before  or  after  the  one  which  we  look  for,  the  names 
which  we  have  learned  in  connection  with  the  one  required ;  and  we  may  dwell  upon  these  till 
the  date  or  name  required  occurs  to  the  mind,  and  we  recognize  it  with  welcome.  Or  we  may 
begin  with  the  subjective  element.  We  may  recall  ourselves  in  the  act  of  being  charged  with 
the  commissions — where  we  were,  what  we  were  doing,  of  what  we  were  thinking,  how  we  were 
feeling, — till,  by  this  means,  the  missing  element  reappears  to  make  our  recognition  complete. 

§  285.  It  has  already  been  asserted,  that  in  the  intentional 
The  active  eie-  memory  the  active  element  is  prominent.  This  is  true.  But 

ment  prominent.  »  ^  1 

it  happens,  from  this  very  circumstance,  that  the  passive  ele- 
ment is  thereby  brought  into  more  conspicuous  and  striking  contrast 
Indeed,  it  is  often  when  we  are  straining  our  active  energies  to  the  utmost 
to  recall,  that  the  power  of  passive  representation,  or  of  spontaneous  sug- 
gestion, seems  to  delight  to  make  itself  felt,  and  to  assert  its  independent 
energy.  It  would  seem  to  delight  to  tantalize  us  by  the  wantonness  of  its 
caprices,  as  now  it  flashes  those  very  thoughts  upon  our  mental  vision 
which  we  are  most  desirous  to  hide  out  of  sight,  and  then  as  provokingly 
hides  those  which  we  are  most  desirous  to  uncover.  At  one  time  we  are 
disappointed  by  a  strange  and  unaccountable  forgetfulness  of  the  most 
familiar  objects  ;  at  another,  we  are  surprised  by  the  appositeness  and  the 
affluence  of  unexpected  thoughts. 

The  sole  and  single  function  which  the  mind,  as  active,  can  exert,  is  to  apply 
Must  avail  itself  the  force  of  its  attention  to  the  object  or  objects  which  it  is  certain  have 
of  the  passive  reference  to  that  which  is  sought  for.  To  these  only  have  we  access.  These 

only  we  have  at  our  command.  Energetic  and  prolonged  attention  is  all 
which  the  mind  can  do  at  the  moment  of  remembering.  It  may,  indeed,  create,  compare, 
infer,  etc.,  and  in  these  ways  lelieve  and  assist  its  attention ;  but  so  far  as  any  function  proper 
to  simple  memory  is  concerned,  it  can  do  nothing  more  than  to  hold  the  object  which  is  in  part 
recovered  hard  home  to  the  attention,  and  force  tre  passive  soul  to  represent  more  of  the 
unknown.  We  s»  this  is  all  which  it  can  do  at  the  moment  of  remembering ;  for  in  the  origi 


§287.  REPRESENTATION. THE  MEMORY.  309 

nal  act  of  acquiring  or  observing,  it  can  do  very  much  toward  securing  the  ready  and 
spontaneous  suggestion  of  the  objects  of  its  knowledge  when  they  are  required,  and  to  facili 
tate  the  activity  of  the  mind  in  bringing  them  forth  from  their  hiding-place.  This  brings  us  tc 
another  class  of  the  facts  and  laws  of  the  memory,  viz.,  those  which  relate  to  the  power  of 
retention. 

§  286.  Memory  is  sometimes  defined  as  exclusively  the  power 
Mwer  to  retain6  to  retam>  or  ^e  conservative  faculty.  So  Hamilton  treats  it, 

and  exalts  this  supposed  power  into  a  separate  faculty  co- 
ordinate with  the  power  to  reproduce  and  the  power  to  represent.  The 
three  are  then  made  equal  with  the  leading  faculties  of  the  intellect,  as 
the  powers  to  perceive,  to  reason,  and  to  judge.  But  when  we  inquire  for 
the  definition  or  statement  of  the  function  which  this  so-called  retentive 
faculty  performs,  we  find  that  no  function  of  the  sort  is  known  to  con- 
sciousness. Indeed,  it  is  conceded  by  Hamilton,  that  whatever  is  done  by 
this  faculty  is  performed  unconsciously.  We  observe  still  further,  that,  so 
far  as  we  are  conscious  or  have  reason  to  infer,  there  is  no  proper  act  or 
function  at  all  which  can  be  appropriately  called  the  act  or  function  of 
retention.  What  we  mean  when  we  speak  of  preserving  or  retaining  an 
object  in  the  memory,  is  that  the  object  in  question  which  has  previously 
been  known  or  thought  of,  can  be  represented  again  to  the  mind,  either 
spontaneously  or  as  the  result  of  an  effort,  and  can  then  be  recognized. 

No  one  holds  that,  during  the  interval,  the  mind  acts  upon  the  object,  or  with  respect  to 
it.  It  does  not  exert  itself  to  hold  it,  or  concern  itself  with  it  in  the  least.  The  expression, 
to  retain,  is  pureiy  metaphorical,  and  simply  carries  the  thoughts  over  the  period  that  inter- 
venes  between  the  moment  when  it  was  first  apprehended,  and  the  moment  when  it  is  known 
a  second  time.  As  Locke  pertinently  and  truly  observes,  "  This  laying  up  of  our  ideas  in  the 
repository  of  the  memory  signifies  no  more  but  this,  that  the  mind  has  a  power,  in  many 
cases,  to  revive  perceptions  which  it  has  once  had,  with  this  additional  perception  annexed  to 
them,  that  it  has  had  them  before.  And  in  this  sense  it  is  that  our  ideas  are  said  to  be  in  our 
memories,  when,  indeed,  they  are  actually  nowhere  ;  but  only  there  is  an  ability  in  the  mind, 
when  it  will,  to  revive  them  again,"  etc.,  (B.  ii.  c.  x.  §  2). 

§  287.  The  whole  of  the  so-called  power  to  retain  is  provided  and  accounted 
The  power  tore-  for  under  the  head  of  the  conditions  and  laws  of  representation.  We  need 
counted  for.  &  '  °nlv  assert  here  that  the  objects  said  to  be  retained  are  only  metaphorically 
spoken  of  as  preserved  in  some  repository  or  hiding-place,  in  drawers,  pigeon- 
holes, or  other  compartments.  Nor  can  the  doctrine  be  maintained,  that  in  the  act  of  original 
acquisition  the  fibres  of  the  brain  are  disposed  in  a  certain  position,  which  they  retain,  or  at 
least  retain  the  tendency  to  reassume.  Nor  can  it  be  proved,  as  the  followers  of  Herbart  con- 
tend, that  each  object  as  apprehended,  or  the  state  of  mind  as  excited  to  action  by  the  object, 
:.s  retained  ever  afterward  in  a  condition  of  tension,  which,  on  a  fit  occasion,  springs  forth 
Into  the  presence  of  the  conscious  spirit.  Now,  if  all  these  representations  are  figurative  or 
metaphorical,  the  power  to  retain,  or  the  doctrine  of  a  retentive  faculty,  must  be  purely  figu- 
rative also  ;  the  fact  which  it  describes  being  merely  that  under  certain  conditions,  and  in  obe- 
dience to  certain  laws,  the  mind  can  represent  and  recognize  its  previous  knowledge.  The 
mind  that  can  do  this  in  regard  to  the  greatest  number  of  objects,  after  the  lapse  of  the  long- 
est  time,  is  said  to  have  the  most  retentive  memory.  To  preserve,  or  retain,  respects  both 
these  points—  the  number  of  objects,  and  the  interval  of  time  which  may  have  elapsed. 


810  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  281) 

Cicero  (Z>«  Oratore,  i.  5),  Plato,  and  others,  have  compared  the  mind,  in  preserving  what 
Figurative  Ian-  i*  had  known,  to  a  tablet  on  which  characters  were  impressed  or  engraved.  Notwithitand- 
guage  concern-  i^g  the  cautious  and  accurate  definition  of  Locke  which  we  have  cited,  we  find  liim,  ii 
ing  the  memory,  the  same  chapter,  indulging  in  such  language  as  this :  "  The  pictures  drawn  in  our  mind 

are  laid  in  fading  colors,  and,  if  not  sometimes  refreshed,  vanish  and  disappear."  .... 
In  some,  it  [the  mindl  retains  the  characters  drawn  on  it  like  marble ;  in  others  like  freestone  ;  and  in  othe* *, 
little  better  than  sand/'  ....  "  We  oftentimes  find  a  disease  quite  strip  the  mind  of  all  its  ideas,  and  'ne 
fiames  of  a  fever  in  a  few  days  calcine  all  those  images  to  dust  and  confusion,  which  seemed  to  be  as  lasting 
as  if  graved  in  marble."  Again,  the  ideas  are,  "very  often  roused  and  tumbled  out  of  their  dark  cells  into 
open  daylight  by  some  turbulent  and  tempestuous  passion."  Hamilton  justly  observes,  "that  of  all  these 
sensible  resemblances,  none  is  so  ingenious  as  that  of  Gussendi  to  the.  folds  of  a  piece  of  paper  or  cloth.  '  Con- 
eipi  charta  valeat  plicarum  innumerabilium,  inconfusarumque,  et  juxta  suos  ordines,  suas  series,  repeten- 
larum  capax.  Scilicet  ubi  unam  seriem  subtilissimarum  induxerimus,  superinducere  licet  alias,  quaa 
primam  refringant  transversum,  et  in  omnem  obliquitatem;  sed  ita  tamen,  ut,  dum novae  plicae,  plicarumque 
series  superinducuntur  priores  omnes  non  modo  remaneant,  verum  etiam  possint  facili  negotio  excitari, 
redire,  apparere,  quatenus  una  plica  arrepta,  ceterae,  quae  in  eadem  serie  quadam  quasi  sponte  sequantur.'  " 
Gassendi,  Physica,  sec.  iii.,  lib.  8,  ch.  3.  But  Hamilton  does  not  notice  wherein  the  truth  and  ingenuity  ol 
the  resemblance  mainly  lies,  viz.,  the  circumstance  that  the  mind,  like  the  cloth,  retains  nothing  but  the 
capacity  to  assume  the  same  folds  and  in  the  same  combination  and  order  which  it  had  originally  taken. 

§  288.    We  observe  here,  that  as  the  goodness  of  the  mem 

The   ready    and      ' 

the     tenacious    ory  may  respect  it  as  spontaneous  or  intentional ;  so  we  de 

memory.  .     . 

scribe  it  in  the  one  case  as  ready,  and  in  the  other  as  tenor 
clous.  The  one  does  not  exclude  the  other.  If  a  person  is  able  to  recall 
every  object  that  is  required  at  once,  without  effort  or  delay,  his  memory 
is  called  ready ;  but  it  is  not  necessarily  implied  thereby  that  he  is  de- 
ficient in  the  capacity  to  retain,  but  only  that  he  is  quick  and  apt  to  recall. 
On  the  other  hand,  when  one  is  slow  to  recall,  and  yet  sure  to  do  so  by 
tne  application  of  an  effort  of  attention  if  sufficient  time  is  allowed,  his 
memory  is  tenacious  ;  by  which  is  intended  only  that  the  object  is  certain 
to  be  recovered — not  that  there  is  a  special  capacity  to  retain,  which  may 
be  possessed  in  eminent  measure,  to  which  may  or  may  not  be  added 
another  special  capacity  to  recall. 

It  frequently  happens,  indeed,  that  a  person  may  have  a  very  ready  memory,  which  is  at 
the  same  time  not  tenacious ;  that  is,  his  memory  may  operate  very  quickly  within  a  short 
time,  and  then  forget  altogther.  It  has  also  been  observed,  that  the  susceptible  temperament 
and  active  nature  which  qualifies  a  person  readily  to  recall  whatever  remembrances  are  withiia 
his  possession,  is  usually  not  consistent  with  the  exercise  of  those  mental  habits  which  are  best 
adapted  to  fix  remembrances  the  longest,  nor  of  that  patient  attention  which  is  sure  to  bring 
them  back.  Hence  the  inference,  that  a  ready  memory  cannot  also  be  tenacious.  But  the 
examples  are  very  numerous,  on  the  one  hand,  of  persons  in  whom  both  these  characteristics 
are  most  happily  and  wonderfully  combined.  To  do  full  justice  to  these  differences,  we  need 
to  consider  the  varieties  of  memory  (§  296). 

§  289.  The  power  to  retain,  in  the  sense  explained,  implies 
Forgetfuinees.  the  power  to  lose,  in  the  same  sense  ;  the  capacity  to  remem- 
ber, suggests  that  there  is  the  liability  to  forget.  The  fact 
that  we  do  forget,  most  men  will  not  venture  to  question  or  deny.  It  is 
not,  however,  easy  to  explain  why  we  forget,  or  to  detail  the  process 
by  which  we  lose  an  acquisition  beyond  recall.  In  one  aspect  of  the  case, 
it  would  seem  that  we  ought  never  to  remember — that  the  mind  might  be 
supposed  to  be  limited  to  the  contemplation  of  the  new  objects  which  thf 


(5290.  REPRESENTATION. THE   MEMORY.  311 

preservative  power  can  bring  before  it.  But  when  we  have  become 
acquainted  with  the  possibility  and  the  conditions  of  representation,  it 
would  seem  that  we  ought  to  forget  nothing,  but  that  it  must  always  be 
within  the  reach  of  every  related  thought  to  bring  back  all  its  correlates 
A  moment's  reflection,  however,  must  convince  us  that,  were  it  possible 
for  us  to  recal1.  every  object,  the  recall  could  not  take  place  in  fact,  simply 
for  want  of  time.  To  recall  the  acquisitions  of  a  few  years,  would  re- 
quire as  long  a  time  as  to  make  the  original  acquirement,  even  if  to  repre- 
sent were  our  sole  occupation  ;  to  say  nothing  of  the  well-known  fact  that, 
to  recall  in  detail  under  the  conditions  of  association,  is  a  slower  process 
than  to  acquire  under  the  conditions  of  sense  and  consciousness.  But  it  is 
not  solely  for  lack  of  time  or  opportunity  that  we  do  not  recall.  Often,  when 
both  are  furnished,  the  related  thoughts  do  not  spontaneously  present  them- 
selves. Often  they  will  not  respond  when  we  call  them  ever  so  earnestly. 

The  phrase  to  forget  is  variously  employed — sometimes  positively,  at  others 
Decrees  and  va-  comparatively ;  now  absolutely,  and  then  relatively ;  or,  as  Stiedenroth  has 
fulness.0  i*1*  '  Forgetting  admits  of  several  degrees,  or  stadia.  The  first  is  a  momen- 

tary displacement  of  an  object  apprehended  which  is  yet  certain  to  spring 
back  as  soon  as  the  object  displacing  it  is  withdrawn.  The  second  is  a  comparative  with- 
drawal of  the  attention,  as  when  we  divert  our  mind  from  a  painful  sensation,  or,  as  we  say, 
forget  it,  in  labor  or  play.  The  third  is  when  an  object  will  not  present  itself  spontaneously, 
but  we  must  bethink  ourselves  in  order  to  recover  it.  The  fourth  is  when  we  bethink  our- 
selves  in  vain.  The  fifth  is  when  it  has  vanished  for  so  long  a  time  that  we  question  whether 
we  can  by  any  effort  bring  it  back.  The  sixth,  when  we  conclude  that  it  is  absolutely  certain 
that  we  shall  never  recall  it  again  '  (Psychologic,  Berlin,  1824,  p.  82). 

§  290.  It  is  questioned  by  many  whether  this  absolute  for- 
get^umess  is  possible — whether,  at  least,  we  are  authorized 
to  affirm  that  the  soul  can  lose  beyond  recovery  any  thing 
which  it  has  known.  It  is  certain  that  knowledge  which  has  remained  out 
of  sight  for  a  long  period  has  often  been  suddenly  recovered.  In  the 
excitement  of  sickness  or  delirium,  in  moments  of  terror  or  joy,  events 
that  had  been  long  uuthought  of  have  thronged  in  upon  the  memory  witli 
the  vividness  of  recent  occurrences.  A  language  that  had  been  disused 
for  years,  and  supposed  to  be  entirely  forgotten,  has  come  back  to  the 
tongue  when  the  powers  were  weakened  by  disease  and  seemed  to  be 
returning  to  the  simplicity  of  second  childhood.  Prayers  and  hymns,  the 
lessons  of  earliest  infancy,  though  forgotten  for  all  the  life  since,  are  re- 
peated at  such  times  fluently  and  correctly.  Even  acquisitions  that  were 
the  least  likely  to  be  remembered,  and  which,  previously,  were  never  known 
or  suspected  to  have  been  made,  come  up  as  though  the  soul  were  inspired 
to  receive  strange  revelations  of  its  capacities  and  acquirements. 

Numerous  examples  of  all  these  classes  of  facts  have  occurred  within  the 
ofnfneareco°very     observation  of  the  curious,  and  not  a  few  are  recorded  in  history.     The  well- 
known  and  often-quoted  story,  which  was  originally  published  by  Coleridge 
in  his  Biographia  Liter  aria,  is  in  substance  as  follows :     A  servant-girl  in 


3)2  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §291. 

Germany  was  very  ill  of  nervous  fever  accompanied  with  violent  delirium.  In  her  excited 
ravings,  she  recited  long  passages  from  classical  and  rabbinical  writers,  which  excited  the  won 
der  and  even  terror  of  all  who  heard  them,  the  most  of  whom  thought  her  inspired  by  a  good 
or  evil  spirit.  Some  of  the  passages  which  were  written  down  were  found  to  correspond  with 
literal  extracts  from  learned  books.  When  inquiries  were  made  concerning  the  history  of  hei 
life,  it  was  found  that,  several  years  before,  she  had  lived  in  the  family  of  an  old  and  learned 
pastor  in  the  country,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  reading  aloud  favorite  passages  from  the  ver) 
writers  in  whose  works  these  extracts  were  discovered.  These  sounds,  to  her  unintelligible, 
were  so  distiuctly  impressed  upon  her  memory,  that,  under  the  excitement  of  delirious  fever, 
they  were  reproduced  to  her  mind  and  uttered  by  her  tongue. 

Rev.  Timothy  Flint,  in  his  Recollections,  records  of  himself,  that  when  prostrate  by  malarious 
fever,  he  repeated  aloud  long  passages  from  Virgil  and  Horner  which  he  had  never  formally  com- 
mitted to  memory,  and  of  which,  both  before  and  after  his  illness,  he  could  repeat  scarcely  a  line 

Dr.  Rush,  in  his  Medical  Inquiries,  says  that  he  once  attended  an  Italian,  who  died  in  New 
York  of  yellow  fever,  who  at  first  spoke  English,  at  a  later  period  of  his  illness  French,  and, 
when  near  his  end,  Italian  only.  He  records  also  that  he  was  informed  by  a  Lutheran  clergy- 
man, that  old  German  immigrants  whom  he  attended  in  their  last  illness,  often  prayed  in  their 
native  tongue,  though  some  of  them,  he  was  certain,  had  not  spoken  it  for  many  years. 

A  favorite  pupil  of  the  writer,  the  son  of  a  missionary  in  Syria,  who  had  spent  much  of  hia 
life  in  this  country,  died  of  yellow  fever,  and  spoke  in  Arabic  —  an  almost  forgotten  language  — 
during  his  last  hours. 

Dr.  Abercrombie  tells  us  that  a  boy,  at  the  age  of  four  years,  received  an  injury  upon  the 
head  which  made  the  operation  of  trepanning  necessary.  During  the  operation  he  was  ap- 
parently in  an  unconscious  stupor  ;  and  after  his  recovery,  it  was  never  recalled  to  his  recollec- 
tion, till  he  was  fifteen  years  old,  when,  in  a  delirium  occasioned  by  a  fever,  he  gave  to  hia 
mother  a  precise  account  of  the  whole  transaction,  describing  the  persons  who  were  present, 
their  dress,  etc.,  etc.,  to  the  minutest  particular. 


De  endence  of  §  ^1.  Facts  like  these  illustrate  the  intimate  connection  of 
the  memory  ^he  bodily  condition  with  the  phenomena  of  memory,  of 

upon  the  bodily  »'  r  *  7 

condition.  which  a  partial  explanation  has  already  been  given  (§  244). 

They  confirm  two  positions,  to  which  daily  experience  and  observation 
both  testify.  The  first  is,  that  the  extent  and  reach  of  our  memory  is 
greatly  affected  by  our  bodily  condition  at  the  time  when  we  acquire. 
Every  object  which  we  apprehend,  when  in  a  certain  condition  of  health, 
we  can  afterward  recall,  and  this  we  can  do  as  readily  and  as  easily  as  we 
breathe.  All  the  impressions  that  are  received  by  the  soul  when  thus 
invigorated  by  healthful  excitement,  are  spontaneously  given  back  when 
required.  On  other  occasions,  when  we  are  wearied  by  labor,  exhausted 
by  watching,  or  prostrated  by  pain,  however  earnestly  we  may  desire  to 
fix  an  object  in  the  mind,  we  can  with  difficulty  secure  so  as  to  hold  the 
slightest  fragment.  The  book  which  we  read  when  in  such  a  mood,  the 
conversation  in  which  we  take  part,  the  incidents  which  happen,  become 
almost  a  blank  to  us  when  we  seek  to  recover  them. 

It  is  in  place  here  to  notice  the  circumstance,  that  certain  parts  of  the  day, 
Dfcpendencejap-     a^  ^.^  ^^  persons,  certain  seasons  of  the  year,  are  most  favorable  to  the 
time  of    successfui  acquisition  of  possessions  for  the  memory.     In  the  evening,  and 
especially  late  at  night,  tl  e  attention  may  seem  to  be  as  intently  fixed  upoi 


§  293.  REPRESENTATION.  -  THE  MEMORT.  313 

the  objects  which  are  to  be  retained,  as  in  the  morning,  and  the  intellectual  force  may  appeal 
to  be  more  energetic.  There  is  often,  however,  an  accompanying  over-excitement  of  the 
nervous  system,  ^  fever  of  the  brain,  which  either  distracts  the  attention,  or,  if  it  seems  to  fis 
it  for  the  instant  with  greater  energy,  hurries  it  so  rapidly  from  one  object  to  another,  as  not 
to  allow  that  serene  and  continuous  mental  effort  which  is  required  for  successful  retention. 
Sometimes  it  happens  that  the  acquisitions  of  the  previous  evening,  which  seemed  to  be  so 
distinct  and  promised  to  be  so  permanent,  have  well-nigh  vanished  in  the  morning,  and  require 
to  be  reviewed  to  be  made  useful  or  sure.  It  is  easy  to  see  how,  after  the  analogies  furnished 
by  these  phenomena,  can  be  explained  the  frequently  evanescent  character  of  the  acquisitions 
which  are  made  under  the  influence  of  wine  or  opium,  as  also  the  fact  that  the  men-  of  the 
strongest  memories  have  often  been  either  water-drinkers,  or  men  of  strong  heads,  not  easily 
disturbed  by  stimulants. 


DC  endence  on  §  292.  ^e  secon(^  position  is,  that,  whether  we  can  recall 
the  bod^hTthe  wna^  we  may  ^e  sa^  *°  nave  acquired,  depends  also  very 
act  of  recalling,  largely  —  at  times  altogether  —  upon  the  bodily  condition  at  the 
moment  of  our  desire  or  effort  to  remember.  Under  the  inspiration  of 
joyous  health  or  the  stimulus  of  exciting  disease,  all  that  we  have  ever 
experienced,  witnessed,  or  learned,  comes  back  to  us  as  if  a  good  genius 
were  pouring  forth  at  our  bidding  all  that  we  need  or  desire  to  recall. 
Again,  in  seasons  of  extreme  weakness,  we  cannot  recover  the  most 
familiar  names,  incidents,  or  dates,  and  our  most  common  knowledge 
refuses  to  serve  us.  Persons  who  have  fallen  from  a  height,  or  have  but 
just  escaped  death  by  drowning,  tell  us  of  the  wonderful  activity  of  the 
memory  during  the  brief  period  of  consciousness  —  of  the  incredible  num- 
ber of  persons  and  events  which  they  recalled,  and  the  comprehensive  sweep 
of  the  eye,  by  which,  as  at  a  glance,  they  revived  the  pictured  memories 
of  their  life. 

It  is  pertinent  here  to  refer  to  the  many  cases  of  the  sudden  and  almost  entire 
Sudden  loss  of  loss  of  memory,  some  of  which  are  as  striking  as  those  of  its  development  to 
unwonted  energy.  A  lady  of  superior  endowments  and  culture  was  for  sev- 
eral days  exposed  to  suffering  and  fear,  in  a  storm  at  sea  which  terminated  in 
the  wreck  of  the  vessel.  A  severe  and  protracted  illness  was  the  consequence,  from  which 
ghe  slowly  recovered.  After  her  apparent  restoration  to  complete  health,  it  was  found  that  the 
best  part  of  her  acquired  knowledge  was  gone,  and  it  was  never  afterward  recovered.  An 
attack  of  apoplexy  has  been  said  to  efface  all  remembrance  of  the  events  of  some  definite 
period  of  the  life.  Sometimes  paralysis  greatly  weakens  the  capacity  to  remember  names  and 
dates.  Rev.  William  Tennent,  a  distinguished  American  clergyman,  while  preparing  for  col- 
lege, was  taken  sick,  and  was,  for  a  time,  supposed  to  be  dead.  During  his  recovery,  it  was 
found  that  he  had  lost  all  that  he  had  previously  learned,  and  even  his  memory  of  the  alpha- 
bet. On  a  sudden  he  complained  of  a  violent  pain  in  the  head,  and  instantly  found  himself 
restored  to  his  normal  condition,  and  the  master  of  all  that  he  had  previously  known. 

§  293.  Both  classes  of  facts  —  those  which  illustrate  the 
HOW  these  cases  dependence  on  certain  bodily  conditions  of  both  the  power 

arc  explained.  *  r 

to  acquire  with  effect  the  materials  for  the  memory,  and  the 
power  to  recover  them  with  ease  —  can  be  accounted  for  by  the  general 
views  already  expressed.  The  varying  condition  of  the  body  through  the 


814  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT!  §294 

several  sensations  of  which  it  is  the  occasion,  enters  into  the  experiences 
of  consciousness,  and  furnishes  a  most  important  element  in  them  all.  It 
is  the  constant  background  on  which  all  the  mental  activities  are  pro- 
jected, the  never-failing  setting  with  which  every  one  of  them  must  b« 
accompanied.  When  these  sensations  are  of  a  certain  description,  they  are 
the  normal  and  favoring  accessories  of  the  other  actings  of  the  soul  ;  helping, 
not  hindering,  the  exertion  of  the  higher  energies,  and  presenting  objects 
with  which  these  are  all  happily  united.  If  they  are  abnormal,  disturbed, 
or  unpleasant,  the  mind  is  so  absorbed  or  distracted  by  the  presence  of 
these  obtrusive  sensations,  that  it  has  little  energy  to  spare  for  other  ob- 
jects, and  no  capacity  to  steady  the  attention  upon  them.  In  these  ways  we 
may  suppose  certain  bodily  states  to  be  unfavorable  to  successful  acquisition. 
Again,  the  bodily  condition  may  also  present  sensations  which  so  far 
disturb  and  distract  the  attention,  as  to  allow  no  time  for  the  passive  mem- 
ory to  respond  to  any  call  ;  may  so  hurry  the  mind  from  one  object  of 
present  sense-experience  to  another,  as  to  leave  no  opportunity  for  tho 
representing  power  to  thrust  in  a  single  mental  image  ;  or,  on  the  other 
hand,  these  sensations  may  be  so  utterly  dissimilar  to  any  which  have 
been  before  experienced,  as  to  suggest  no  image  of  the  past.  Or  again, 
this  complex  of  sensations  may  be  most  favorable  to  the  easy  and  almost 
exclusive  action  of  the  passive  or  spontaneous  memory,  and  may  be  so 
akin  to  the  states  which  we  would  recall,  as  to  be  all  luminous  and  living 
with  objects  that  suggest  those  which  we  welcome  or  seek  after.  In  such 
cases,  the  body  itself  becomes  an  ethereal  minister  to  the  soul  —  almost 
an  airy  vehicle  of  spiritual  life  and  energy. 

To  the  question,  whether  the  circumstances  of  the  soul  can  ever  so  far  be 
May  all  knowl-    changed  as  to  empower  it  to  recover  all  the  past,  the  analogies  suggested  by 
these  facts  would  lead  us  to  reply:    (1.)  Under  no  circumstances  whatever 


can  it  be  supposed  that  the  soul  shall  recover  what  it  has  not  in  some  sense 
made  its  own  by  the  energetic  action  of  its  attentive  consideration.  That  is  not  a  proper 
object  of  memory  to  the  soul,  which  has  not  been  taken  up  into  its  life  by  its  efficient  acqui- 
sition. (2.)  It  is  supposable  that  the  conditions  might  be  furnished  of  recalling  all  the  past  thus 
defined,  under  the  actings  of  laws  which  are  well  known  to  us.  We  have  only  to  suppose  that  a 
vehicle  or  subject  of  the  proper  psychical  experiences  —  call  them  sensations,  if  you  will,  and  the 
occasion  of  them  a  new  body  —  should  be  furnished,  and  these  would  of  themselves  give  back 
every  element  of  past  acquisition  or  experience  to  which  they  are  attached. 

§  294.  With  the  progress  and  development  of  the  powers 
memory  ;  how  and  activities  of  the  soul,  the  memory  itself  advances  through 

separate  stages,  each  of  which  prepares  the  way  for  that 
which  follows,  and  occupies  the  place  of  its  natural  and  logical  condition. 
The  memory  of  the  infant  differs  from  the  memory  of  the  child  ;  the  mem- 
ory of  the  child  differs  from  that  of  the  youth  ;  the  memory  of  the  man, 
in  each  of  the  several  stages  of  active  life,  differs  from  that  in  the  stage 
which  succeeds  it.  In  general,  the  memory  of  the  person  in  active  life 


§296.  REPRESENTATION. THE   MEMORY.  315 

differs  from  the  memory  of  old  age.  This  must  necessarily  follow  from 
the  very  nature  of  memory  when  considered  as  to  the  materials  on  which  it 
works,  and  the  laws  by  which  it  acts.  The  memory  of  an  individual  can 
rise  no  higher  than  the  intellectual  and  emotional  life  which  furnish  the 
objects  which  it  has  to  recall.  It  can  take  no  other  direction  than  that 
which  is  indicated  by  the  relations  and  connections  in  which  these  objects 
are  habitually  combined.  As  these  objects  and  relations  stand  to  all  men 
in  a  certain  common  order  of  preparation  and  evolution,  there  must  con- 
sequently be  a  certain  similarity  in  the  order  of  the  stages  through  which 
the  memory  of  all  is  evolved.  As  there  are  also  special  classes  of  objects 
and  relations  that  are  proper  to  different  classes  of  men,  arising  from  their 
peculiar  employments  and  habits  of  thinking  and  feeling,  each  of  these 
classes  has  a  memory  that  is  peculiar  to  itself.  The  memory  of  the  artist 
is  very  unlike  the  memory  of  the  mathematician.  The  memory  of  the 
erudite  and  disciplined  thinker  differs  greatly  in  its  objects  and  its  laws, 
from  the  memory  of  the  person  who  has  had  little  culture  from  reading  or 
thought.  Hence,  there  exist  many  clearly  distinguishable  varieties  of 
memory,  if  we  make  nothing  of  the  fact  that  every  individual  must  have 
a  type  of  memory  which  arises  from  those  individual  habits  of  thought 
and  feeling  which  he  can  share  with  no  other  person. 

§  295.    The  attention  of  the  infant  is  at  first  occupied  with  the  sensible 
memory.      The     world.     It  sees  colors  that  delight  the  eye,  it  hears  sounds  that  captivate  the 
°f  ear>      Ifc  is  lonS   Defore  ft  unftes  these  separate  percepts  into  individual 

objects,  and  still  longer  before  it  discriminates,  by  special  attention,  one 
object  from  another.  Later  still,  it  learns  to  notice  with  any  effect  its  own  inner  experiences 
and  activities.  Then,  it  must  learn  distinctly  to  apprehend  both  object  and  activity  as  refer- 
able to  itself  as  their  agent  and  subject.  It  requires  still  more  reflective  attention  before  the 
mental  activities  and  the  mental  objects  are  arranged  as  before  and  after,  and  the  relations  of 
time  can  be  familiarly  applied.  The  relations  of  here  and  there  are  of  still  later  evolution. 
But  all  these  separate  elements  must  be  familiarized  by  attention  before  an  act  of  memory  can 
be  at  all  definite  and  complete,  inasmuch  as,  whatever  suggestions  of  representation  there  may 
be,  there  can  be  no  proper  act  of  memory  titl  all  these  elements  are  recognized. 

Even  when  memory  becomes  possible  to  the  infant,  it  is  evident  that  the  memory  doea 
not  go  beyond  the  attention,  whether  in  respect  to  the  objects  which  are  recalled,  or  the  mode 
in  which  they  are  viewed.  The  germinant  memory  of  the  infant  must  be  exceedingly  limited, 
because  its  materials  are  very  scanty ;  the  chief  force  of  its  intellectual  life  being  expended 
in  acquiring  rather  than  in  recalling.  So  far  as  it  remembers  at  all,  its  memory  is  passive, 
being  completely  directed  and  controlled  by  the  persons  and  things  which  it  encounters,  and  re- 
calling only  the  objects  and  feelings  which  their  presence  suggests.  Intentional  memory  is  as 
yet  undeveloped,  for  the  infant  is  the  passive  child  of  nature,  the  stream  of  its  memory  running 
side  by  side  with  the  course  of  its  objective  life.  The  infant  remembers,  as  animals  remember, 
just  that,  and  only  that,  which  the  objects  of  sense-perception  recall  to  their  thoughts.  It 
does  not  cut  itself  off  from  the  objective  world  even  by  a  reverie.  It  exercises  only  the 
lowest  form  of  passive  representation — that  which  depends  entirely  on  the  sense-perceptions. 

§  296.  The  acquisition  and  use  of  language  opens  the  way  for  the  highcf 
The  memory  of  memory,  though  obviously  in  its  first  beginnings.  The  right  use  of  words, 
youth.  and  of  short  sentences,  requires  that  the  child  should  connect  names  with 

distinctly  discerned  objects,  and  that  it  express  its  wishes  and  thoughts  bj 


316  THE  HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  299 

ebort  sentences.  Both  processes  imply  memory  ;  but  so  long  as  the  object  perceived,  .or  the 
thought  recalled,  suggests  the  word  and  sentence,  the  style  and  range  of  memory  are  limited 
and  low.  But  by-and-by  the  child  finds  that  it  forgets — that  it  has  not  the  knowledge  which 
it  once  possessed.  It  cannot  recall  the  right  name  or  phrase  which  it  wishes  to  use,  and 
which  it  knows  it  has  previously  spoken.  It  is  impelled  by  its  wishes  to  recall  the  forgotten 
object,  and  begins  to  practise  the  arts  of  the  intentional,  or  active  memory.  But  these  occa- 
sions and  efforts  are  at  best  so  infrequent,  and  of  so  little  importance,  that  they  train  the 
intentional  memory  only  to  a  slight  degree.  It  is  by  tasks  imposed  by  others  directly  and 
indirectly,  that  the  soul  is  disciplined  to  the  exercise  of  this  higher  memory,  and  that  the 
power  itself  is  developed.  The  child  is  taught  written  language.  It  learns  the  alphabet  and 
epelling  by  the  eye,  or  brief  sentences  and  verses  by  the  ear.  To  master  these  tasks,  it  must 
enforce  its  attention  and  employ  repetition  by  continuous  efforts,  and  for  a  longer  time  than 
has  been  its  wont,  upon  objects  which  of  themselves  present  few  attractions  and  excite  but 
little  interest.  By  these  efforts  the  capacity  is  developed  to  regulate  and  direct  the  spontaneous 
memory  to  special  results — by  fixing  certain  objects  for  recall,  by  concentrating  the  attention 
on  certain  objects  to  the  exclusion  of  others,  until  they  are  placed  at  the  service  of  the  soul 
Children  are  charged  also  with  commissions  to  execute,  with  services  of  labor  or  courtesy  which 
may  not  be  forgotten,  and  with  endless  lessons  from  books  to  prepare  and  repeat. 

§  297.  By  degrees,  this  pupil  of  others  becomes  his  own  taskmaster:  he 
Belf-culture  of  Passes  from  tne  lower  discipline  of  the  memory,  which  others  enforce,  to  the 
the  memory.  higher,  which  he  imposes  upon  himself.  The  intentional  memory,  which  has 

been  trained  by  others,  he  cultivates  for  himself.  He  makes  his  own  pur- 
poses ;  he  proposes  his  own  ideals ;  he  knows  what  he  must  learn  in  order  to  accomplish 
these  purposes  and  to  realize  these  ideals  ;  he  appoints  to  himself  his  own  lessons  ;  tasks  hia 
own  intellect  to  consider,  and  his  own  efforts  to  retain  what  he  foresees  he  shall  have  occasion 
to  know  and  to  have  at  command.  He  must  be  able  to  remember  this  or  that,  in  order  to  gam 
a  livelihood,  to  acquire  wealth,  to  maintain  a  decent  position  in  society,  to  attain  success  or 
eminence  in  his  business  or  profession,  to  shine  in  conversation,  to  achieve  reputation  or  use- 
fulness as  a  writer  or  speaker.  These  objects  are  desirable,  and  upon  the  attainment  of  one 
or  more  the  purposes  are  fixed.  Because  the  end  is  desired,  the  means  are  first  tolerated  and 
then  loved,  till  the  acquisition  of  the  driest  details  and  the  most  uninteresting  particulars  has 
become  the  habit  of  the  man ;  and  the  memory  can  be  applied  and  directed  to  the  possession 
of  any  species  of  knowledge  which  is  necessary  for  its  chosen  purposes.  In  passing  from 
childhood  through  youth  to  early  manhood,  every  person  is  forced  to  become  familiar  with 
those  objects  and  relations  which  have  a  necessary  or  intimate  relation  to  his  occupations  and 
duties.  According  as  this  training  of  his  attention  is  more  or  less  complete,  so  does  his 
memory  become  more  or  less  perfectly  subject  to  his  control,  and  from  the  passive  spontaneity 
of  early  life  passes  into  the  active  energy  of  mature  years. 

§  298.  This  memory  of  manhood  is  also  characterized  by  the  predominance 
The  memory  of  °^  thought-r6^0118  and  of  rational  purposes.  The  spontaneous  memory  of 
manhood.  early  life  is  not  thereby  displaced ;  the  original  aptitudes  of  the  memory  of 

both  eye  and  ear  are  not  necessarily  set  aside.  They  may  be  rendered  more 
efficient  as  they  are  aided  by  the  new  relations  with  which  thought  and  reason  invest  their 
objects.  But  just  so  far  as  one  thinks  and  acts  like  a  man,  just  so  far  will  he  remember  as  a 
man,  and  not  merely  as  a  child — that  is,  by  the  aid  of  those  higher  relations  which  thought 
requires,  and  which  definite  aims  and  rational  activities  necessarily  involve.  The  memory  of 
the  man  is  not  only  intentional,  but  it  is  also  rational. 

§  299.  When  the  man  advances  from  the  busy  noon  toward  the  quiet 
The  memory  of  evemng  °f  l^e>  ^s  exclusive  interest  in  the  objects  which  tave  absorbed  his 
old  agft.  manhood  is  relaxed,  either  through  physical  infirmity,  or  the  success  which 

satiates,  and  perhaps  the  disappointment  which  wearies  a  man  with  life.  Or 
it  may  be,  that  through  the  salutary  discipline  of  experience,  he  reverts  to  the  simpler  taste* 


§301.  REPRESENTATION. THE   MEMORY.  31* 

and  the  purer  affections  of  earlier  years,  or  looks  forward  to  the  higher  objects  which  dawa 
upon  him  from  the  life  beyond.  The  news,  the  markets,  the  politics,  the  literature,  th? 
society  that  occupied  his  attention  so  exclusively,  are  now  less  attended  to,  because  they  are 
less  cared  for.  In  place  of  an  intent  and  absorbed  devotedness  to  the  present,  there  is  a  mow 
frequent  review  of  the  past.  Old  scenes  are  described,  old  books  are  read,  old  companions  ara 
talked  of,  old  stories  are  repeated.  The  best  energies  of  the  mind  are  given  to  these  objects, 
while  the  mind  scarcely  heeds,  or  with  enfeebled  interest,  the  scenes,  the  persons,  and  events 
that  are  present.  For  this  reason,  recent  objects  are  so  readily  forgotten,  and  the  singular 
contrast  is  furnished  in  the  memory  peculiar  to  the  aged — most  tenacious  of  objects  and 
events  that  occurred  longest  ago,  and  readily  forgetful,  if  forgetful  at  all,  of  those  that  were 
most  recent. 

special  and  indi-  §  300'  Besides  those  varieties  of  memory  which  are  com- 
mon  to  9^  men  m  ^e  successive  periods  of  their  life,  there 
are  the  special  peculiarities  which  result  from  one's  pursuit 
or  profession.  The  historian  remembers  facts  and  dates  ;  the  philosopher, 
principles  and  laws.  The  artist  remembers  landscapes  and  faces  ;  the  wit 
and  the  story-teller,  never  forget  a  successful  jest  or  a  capital  anecdote. 
These  habits  of  memory,  as  they  are  called,  often  grow  stronger  till  they 
become  fixed  beyond  the  power  of  change.  They  often  result  in  a  one- 
sidedness  of  intellectual  character  that  may  be  exaggerated  into  a  serious 
and  unnatural  defect.  Persons  distinguished  for  great  intellectual  power 
in  certain  directions,  very  often  complain  of  a  serious  defect  of  memory 
which  they  cannot  account  for.  Such  one-sided  habits  and  defects  are  not 
peculiar  to  the  memory  only,  but  pertain  equally  to  all  the  activities  of 
the  soul.  The  condition  of  memory  is  energy  in  the  original  activities ; 
these  involve  attention  to  the  objects  to  be  remembered.  Attention 
springs  from  an  active  interest  in  these  objects.  This  prevailing  interest 
follows  the  habits  which  constitute  and  express  the  character. 

The  reason  why,  of  the  same  story  the  historian  remembers  the  facts  and  dates,  the 
philosopher  the  principle  or  the  moral,  and  the  wit  its  humor,  is  that  each  is  prepared,  by 
his  previous  habits,  to  be  intent  upon  and  attent  to  a  special  class  of  objects.  Each  selecta 
out  of  this  common  material  the  elements  for  which  he  has  affinity,  and,  as  by  the  force  of  an 
instinct,  quietly  appropriates  this,  and  this  only.  He  finds  what  he  seeks,  and  seeks  what  he 
finds ;  and  what  he  seeks  and  finds,  he  retains  and  recalls.  Man  cannot  be  said  to  have  a 
memory  so  much  as  to  repeat  in  his  memory  the  life  which  he  actually  lives. 

The  growing  feebleness  or  failure  of  memory,  by  which  many  are  disturbed,  is  often  only 
an  indication  of  a  change  in  the  direction  of  the  intellectual  activities  incident  to  the  prog- 
ress of  years,  or  to  a  change  in  one's  pursuits  or  studies,  or  to  a  revolution  in  one's  tastes  and 
character. 

varieties  of  §  301.  We  return  again  to  the  fact  that  these  varieties  of 
Sfmo°^ctdBepaSd  memory  are  not  only  distinguished  by  the  character  of  the 
objects  remembered,  but  also  by  the  method  and  relations 
under  which  they  are  recalled.  The  things  which  the  child  remembers 
not  only  differ  from  those  which  an  older  person  recalls,  but  they  are 
recalled  in  a  child's  order,  and  by  the  relations  which  are  proper  to  a 
child.  The  same  is  true  of  the  devotee  to  any  study  or  pursuit  so  far  as 


318  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §302 

special  intellectual  habits  are  induced  by  such  a  study  or  employment 
When  the  child  recalls  to  itself  or  recites  to  others  a  series  of  incidents 
of  which  it  has  had  experience,  it  depicts  the  whole,  generally  in  the  order 
of  time,  with  little  selection  of  materials  according  to  their  importance 
or  their  relation  to  any  principle  or  purpose.  The  spontaneous  memory 
of  the  eye  or  the  ear,  reproduces  the  past  solely  after  the  relations  of  time 
or  place,  with  no  rearrangement  or  selection  of  the  same  such  as  would 
be  suggested  by  the  desire  for  the  clearer  apprehension  of  the  hearer, 
or  by  the  bearings  of  the  story  upon  his  intellect  or  his  feelings. 

This  is  very  conspicuous  in  the  memory,  and  especially  in  the  narratives  of 
the6  oSdiSin-     uneducated  persons.     Thus,  Dame  Quickly  recites  the  story  of  her  wrongs  in 


ed  mind.  the  following  fashion  :  "  Thou  didst  swear  to  me  upon  a  parcel-gilt  goblet, 

sitting  in  my  dolphin  chamber,  at  the  round  table,  by  a  sea-coal  fire,  upon 
Wednesday  in  Whitsun-week,  when  the  prince  broke  thy  head  for  liking  his  father  to  a 
singing-man  of  Windsor  ;  thou  didst  swear  to  me  then,  as  I  was  washing  thy  wound,  to  marry 
me,  and  make  me  my  lady  thy  wife  "  (Henry  IV.,  2d  part,  Act  ii.  scene  i.  ;  cf.  S.  T.  Coleridge, 
The  Friend,  Sec.  ii.  Essay  iv.)  No  finer  opportunity  is  furnished  for  observing  this  variety  in  the 
order  and  method  which  characterize  the  memory  of  different  persons,  -than  in  listening  to  the 
testimony  of  different  witnesses  in  a  court  of  justice,  concerning  the  same  transaction.  One 
witness  tells  a  long  and  rambling  story,  which  follows  the  order  of  his  own  observations  in 
time,  and  recites  the  most  trifling  accompaniments  of  place  and  circumstances.  Another 
recounts  those  only  which  are  material  to  the  object  for  which  he  gives  testimony.  In  each,  can 
be  observed  an  order  of  association  peculiar  to  himself,  by  which  the  circumstances  suggest 
one  another,  and  according  to  which  the  details  are  presented.  The  laws  which  prevail  in  the 
memory  of  each,  the  presence  of  the  higher  or  the  predominance  of  the  lower  relations,  are 
often  in  this  way  strikingly  illustrated.  The  self-possession  of  the  narrator,  and  his  previous 
discipline  in  the  art  of  communication,  may  have  much  to  do  with  the  method  in  which  the 
stories  are  told  ;  but  the  mechanical  or  the  rational  memory  will  show  themselves,  and  cannot 
be  kept  out  of  view  by  any  arts  of  speech  or  force  of  effrontery. 


The  memory  of  §  302'  ^ne  rpemory  °f  the  young  is  usually  more  ready  ; 
ofeoile°runfrsonsd  tnat  °^  tne  a^u^  ^s  ™o™  tenacious.  This  is,  in  part,  owing 
to  the  greater  physical  vivacity  of  youth,  which  gives  a 
character  of  greater  readiness  to  all  its  movements.  The  vivacious  old 
man  is  as  quick  to  remember  as  he  is  to  apprehend  or  judge  ;  while  the 
torpid  and  phlegmatic  child  is  as  slow  in  his  memory  he  is  as  in  his 
reasonings  and  inferences.  The  difference,  however,  is  not  a  difference 
of  temperament  or  animal  spirits,  but  has  its  ground  in  the  character 
of  the  relations  which  predominate  at  each  of  these  periods  of  life,  and 
which  affect  the  memory  as  truly  as  the  other  functions  of  the  intellect. 
Objects  that  are  recalled  by  the  relations  of  space  and  time  and  of  obvi- 
ous resemblance,  present  themselves  promptly,  if  they  are  remembered  at 
all  ;  but  these  relations  are,  from  their  very  nature,  limited  to  but  few 
individual  objects.  Hence,  the  groups  which  are  connected  by  such 
relations  are  sooner  set  aside  and  forgotten,  and  are,  in  their  turn,  dis- 
placed by  others.  The  relations  of  thought,  however,  especially  those 
which  are  founded  on  wide-reaching  principles  or  laws,  are  in  their  verj 


§304.  REPRESENTATION.  —  THE   MEMORY.  319 

nature  less  obvious.  As  the  mind  requires  longer  time  to  discern  such 
relations,  so  it  does  not  recall  single  objects  as  readily  as  by  those  rela- 
tions which  are  less  general.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  the  principles  them- 
selves are  few,  and  are  constantly  before  the  mind.  When  these  are  once 
mastered,  they  are  illustrated  in  every  fact  ;  they  are  exemplified  in  every 
instance.  By  means  of  them  we  can  prophesy  and  construct  the  future 
as  well  as  explain  and  interpret  the  past.  These  few  bonds  of  association, 
when  they  control  the  memory,  give  to  it  perfect  security  in  and  command 
over  its  possessions. 

It  is  a  beneficent  arrangement  which  provides  that  the  spontaneous  and  inferior  memory, 
which  is  first  developed  in  childhood  and  youth,  should  be  more  quick  in  its  activities,  so  aa 
to  be  readily  adjusted  to  new  scenes  and  new  objects,  and  yet  less  tenacious,  because  so  much 
which  it  acquires  has  only  a  temporary  value  and  application.  There  is  a  reason  why  the  higher 
memory  should  be  more  circumspect  and  slow,  inasmuch  as  it  suits  the  occasions  of  life  which 
imply  quiet  and  deliberate  thought,  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  more  tenacious,  because  it 
concerns  itself  with  principles  and  relations,  which  can  never  cease  to  be  interesting  and  use- 
ful —  which  can  never  be  displaced,  and  can  never  be  exhausted. 

The  men  of  uni-    §  303.    The  men  of  universal  memory  are  those  who  com- 
bine  most  happily  the  ready  memory  of  facts  and  events 


with  the  tenacious  memory  of  truths  and  laws.  They  are 
those  whose  spontaneous  memory  is  not  displaced,  but  rather  aided  by  the 
development  of  the  rational  memory  which  sees  in  facts  the  illustrations 
of  the  higher  relations  of  philosophic  truth.  They  are  those  who  enliven 
abstract  truths  by  the  examples  of  particular  facts,  and  who  give  meaning 
and  dignity  to  the  memory  of  facts  by  means  of  their  relations  to  prin- 
ciples. They  are  those  who  hold  fast  the  acquisitions  of  youth  and  of  old 
age  by  the  permanence  of  principles  which  are  as  old  as  the  universe  and 
as  new  as  the  latest  experiment  by  which  they  are  verified. 

Of  the  memory  of  Niebuhr,  Prof.  C.  A.  Brandis,  of  the  University  of  Bonn,  who  was  his  intimate 
friend,  gives  the  following  description  ;  "  A  more  comprehensive  and  trustworthy  memory,  or  greater  con- 
trol over  it,  can  scarcely  have  been  possessed  by  Joseph  Scaliger,  and  other  heroes  of  mnemonics  ;  it  cer- 
tainly was  never  combined  with  clearer  powers  of  reflection.  Niebuhr  was  a  close  observer,  and  found 
some  connecting  link  between  all  the  manifold  external  and  internal  perceptions  which  came  before  him; 
hence  he  mastered  languages  and  sciences,  signs  and  the  things  signified,  with  equal  ease  and  with  such 
certainty,  that  with  the  mind's  eye  he  saw  each  in  its  own  individuality,  separate  from  its  fellows,  and  yet 
intimately  and  variously  related  to  them  ....  It  [his  memory]  was  equally  retentive  of  perceptions  and 
thoughts,  of  views  and  feelings,  of  sights  and  sounds  ;  whatever  came  within  the  sphere  of  his  recognition, 
took  up  its  due  relative  position  in  his  mind  with  equal  certainty  and  precision."  (The  Life  and  Letter! 
of  Barthold  George  Nieluhr,  etc.,  etc.,  Appendix.) 

"'Tis  reported  of  that  prodigy  of  parts,  Monsieur  Pascal,  that,  till  the  decay  of  his  health  had  impaired 
his  memory,  he  forgot  nothing  of  what  he  had  done,  read,  or  thought  in  any  part  of  his  rational  age." 
(Locke,  Essay,  B.  1L  c.  x.  §  9.) 

§  304.    The  memory  of  the  ancients,  if  we  may  believe  all  the  stories  which 

The  memory  of    are  told  of  the  achievements  of  some  of  their  more  distinguished  men,  sur- 

passed, in  some  respects,  the  average  attainments  of  the  moderns.     It  is  not 

difficult  to  believe  this  to  have  been  true,  from  what  we  know  of  the  mem- 

ory of  those  who  most  resemble  them  in  the  circumstances  of  their  lives,  and  the  discipline  of 

their  intellects.     Their  attention  was  far  less  distracted  by  a  variety  of  ohjjects  than  is  th« 


820  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  306 

case  with  the  moderns.  The  facts  in  science,  literature,  chronology,  and  history,  which  thej 
were  required  to  remember  were  far  fewer  than  those  which  burden  the  memory  of  the  modern 
scholar.  More  than  all,  they  relied  far  less  than  we  do  upon  writing,  memoranda,  and  books, 
to  preserve  what  they  desired  to  retain.  They  committed  their  acquisitions  to  their  own 
power  to  recall  them.  Conversation  and  repetition  were  practised  far  more  generally  by  them 
than  by  us.  What  was  heard  by  the  ear  from  the  living  teacher,  was  repeated  and  discoursed 
of  by  his  interested  scholars,  till  it  became  a  part  of  their  very  being.  The  oft-repeated  chroni- 
cle which  the  patriarch  recited  to  his  reverent  descendants,  was  caught  and  recounted  at  once 
by  his  hearers.  The  ode  or  epic  that  was  chanted  by  the  bard  before  the  entranced  assembly, 
was  sung  over  again,  in  parts  or  as  a  whole,  as  soon  as  he  finished  it.  His  exciting  words  rung 
in  their  ears  till  they  were  uttered  by  their  tongues.  We  can  hardly  conceive  of  the  strength 
and  reach  of  memory  in  a  community  in  which  conversation  took  the  place  of  writing,  and 
recitation  performed  the  service  of  the  printing-press,  especially  if  the  community  consisted  of 
men  of  powerful  intellects,  intense  feelings,  and  energetic  wills. 

§  305.  The  methods  of  education  should  be  conducted  with  a  distinct  recog 
ory5 should  bere-  nition  of  tne  wise  arrangements  of  nature  in  developing  and  maturing 
garded  in  educa-  the  memory.  In  the  earlier  periods  of  life  the  spontaneous  memory  should 

be  stimulated  and  enriched  by  appropriate  studies.  -The  child  should  learn 
Btories,  verses,  poems,  facts,  and  dates,  as  freely  and  as  accurately  as  it  can  be  made  to  respond 
to  such  tasks.  During  this  early  and  objective  period,  it  should  learn  as  many  languages  as 
is  possible  in  the  circumstances,  or  as  is  desirable  for  its  future  pursuits.  Especially  should  it 
learn  those  languages  which  can  be  taught  in  conversation,  or  acquired  by  contact  with  those 
who  speak  them  freely  and  well.  If  the  elements  of  the  ancient  languages  are  taught  so  early 
in  life,  they  should  be  taught,  so  far  as  in  the  nature  of  the  case  is  possible,  by  similar  methods. 
But  as  the  higher  and  rational  powers  awake  to  action,  every  acquisition  that  has  been  made 
after  the  lower  and  more  obvious  relations,  should  be  secured  against  loss  by  recasting  it  and 
relearaing  it  as  it  were,  after  the  relations  which  are  higher  and  more  philosophical.  English 
children  who  learn  to  speak  French,  German,  or  Italian  fluently  in  early  life,  may  lose  their 
acquisitions  almost  entirely,  unless  these  are  fixed  by  a  grammatical  study  of  these  very 
languages  at  a  somewhat  later  period.  The  large  accumulations  of  facts  and  dates,  as  in 
geography  and  history,  which  are  made  very  early  by  many  carefully-trained  children,  and 
with  the  greatest  ease  on  their  part,  are  liable  to  be  effaced,  and,  as  it  were,  swept  clean  out 
from  the  memory,  unless  they  are  secured  against  loss  by  reviewing  and  rearranging  them 
under  the  new  and  higher  relations  which  the  development  of  the  reason  makes  possible. 

On  the  other  hand,  to  anticipate  the  development  of  the  reflecting  powers,  hy  forcing  upon  the  Intel- 
lect  studies  which  imply  and  require  these  capacities,  is  to  commit  the  double  error  of  misusing  the  time 
which  is  especially  appropriate  to  simple  acquisition,  and  of  constraining  the  intellect  to  efforts  which  are 
untimely  and  unnatural.  The  modern  practice  of  occupying  the  minds  of  children  with  the  reasons  oi 
things,  i.  e.,  with  laws,  principles,  etc.,  in  the  forms  of  compends  of  astronomy,  of  natural  or  mental 
philosophy,  natural  theology,  etc. — is  one  that  cannot  be  too  earnestly  deprecated,  or  too  soon  abandoned 
by  those  who  would  train  the  mind  according  to  the  methods  of  nature,  or  adapt  its  studies  and  pursuits  to 
the  order  in  which  its  powers  and  functions  were  intended  to  be  evolved  (cf.  §  61). 


HOW  can  the  §  306>  ^e  cu^ivati°n  °f  the  memory  is  a  subject  which 
be  cul"  ^as  been  earnestly  discussed  by  many  writers,  and  is  of 
practical  interest  to  all  those  who  are  bent  on  self-improve' 
ment,  or  are  devoted  to  the  education  of  others.  Many  complain  of  a 
general  defect  of  memory.  Others  are  especially  sensible  of  painful 
failures  in  respect  to  certain  classes  of  objects,  as  names,  dates,  facts  of 
history,  sentences  or  passages  from  authors  familiarly  read.  The  question 


REPRESENTATION. — THE   MEMORY  321 

in  often  anxiously  propounded,  How  can  these  general  or  special  defects 
be  overcome  ? 

The  conclusions  which  we  have  reached  in  respect  to  the 

Fundamental 

principles  and  nature  and  laws  of  memory,  suggest  the  only  practical  rules 
which  can  be  attained.  These  rules  may  be  summed  up  in 
the  following  comprehensive  directions :  '  To  remember  any  thing,  you 
must  attend  to  it ;  and  in  order  to  attend,  you  must  either  iind  or  create 
an  interest  in  the  objects  to  be  attended  to.  This  interest  must,  if  pos- 
sible, be  felt  in  the  objects  themselves,  as  directly  related  to  your  own 
wishes,  feelings,  and  purposes,  and  not  to  some  remote  end  on  account  of 
which  you  desire  to  make  the  acquisition.'  For  this  reason,  in  entering 
upon  a  new  study  or  course  of  reading,  it  is  often  essential  to  feel  that 
the  knowledge  which  they  will  give  is  necessary  for  ourselves,  so  that  we 
may  be  eager  to  satisfy  our  minds  upon  the  points  which  are  involved,  and 
may  receive  what  is  furnished,  with  freshness  and  zest.  It  should  never  be 
forgotten,  that  in  memory,  what  is  reproduced  is  not  the  object  as  such, 
or  the  object  in  itself,  but  the  object  as  apprehended  and  reacted  on  by  the 
soul.  In  other  words,  the  soul  can  recall  no  more  than  it  makes  its  own — 
no  more  than,  in  acquiring,  it  constructs  or  creates  as  a  spiritual  product 
by  its  own  activity. 

Even  the  extraordinary  feats  of  the  spontaneous  memory  are  chiefly  to  be  accounted  for 
by  the  fact  that  the  soul  can  give  its  whole  energy  to  words  or  sounds,  as  in  the  memory  of 
the  ear,  and  to  forms  and  colors,  as  in  that  of  the  eye,  and  can  shape  them  into  wholes  by 
rapid  combination  under  the  relations  of  time  or  space.  Defects  in  the  power  to  do  either, 
whether  it  is  viewed  as  an  original  endowment,  or  as  a  habit  acquired  in  the  very  earliest  periods 
of  life,  lie  chiefly  in  an  incapacity  to  attend  to  and  connect  together  sounds  or  sights. 
Whether  it  is  because  the  soul  is  deficient  in  general  energy,  or  in  special  sensibility  of  the 
sentient  eye  or  ear,  or  whether  because  it  has  early  contracted  some  untimely  habit  of 
absent-mindedness  or  abstraction,  which  withdraws  its  energy  from  the  objects  of  sense  and 
their  relations,  it  is  a  simple  fact,  that  the  man  does  not  remember  because  he  does  not  attend 
to,  and  by  his  attention,  connect  the  right  objects  under  these  simplest  relations.  It  may  be  im- 
possible completely  to  overcome  such  a  defect  as  this  by  any  art  or  discipline.  Repetition  ia 
the  specific  remedy,  because  it  holds  the  attention  and  draws  in  the  wandering  and  often  the 
wool-gathering  intellect  from  its  aimless  rovings.  This  must  be  enforced  with  unsparing  rigor. 
'  Read  every  sentence  while  holding  your  breath,'  says  a  lively  writer ;  meaning,  by  this,  Throw 
your  whole  soul  into  every  act.  If  he  had  added,  Pause  when  you  have  finished  it,  and  take 
another  breath  while  you  review  it,  he  would  have  explained  the  whole  secret  of  successful 
and  permanent  acquisition  of  every  kind,  whether  of  facts  or  their  relations.  Were  this  rule 
invariably  followed,  the  mind  would  act  with  energy  in  all  that  it  does,  and  would  also  be 
detained  in  every  act  long  enough  to  receive  permanent  impressions,  whether  in  the  way  of 
facts  or  relations.  Whatever  objects  are  thus  taken  up  into  the  mind — or  perhaps  we  should 
say,  to  whatever  objects  the  mind  imparts  its  own  living  power — cannot  easily  be  forgotten. 

The  late  Sir  Thomas  FoTwjll  Buxton  advises  his  sons  in  the  following  golden  words :  "  What  you  da 
know,  know  thoroughly.  There  are  few  instances  in  modern  times  of  a  rise  equal  to  that  of  Sir  Edward 
Sugden.  After  one  of  the  Weymouth  elections,  I  was  shut  up  with  him  in  a  carriage  for  twenty-four 
hours.  I  ventured  to  ask  him,  What  was  the  secret  of  his  success ;  his  answer  was  :  « I  resolved,  when 
beginning  to  read  law,  to  make  every  thing  I  acquired  perfectly  my  own,  and  never  to  go  to  a  second  thing 

21 


*22  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  g  50? 

till  I  had  entirely  accomplished  the  first.  Many  of  my  competitors  read  as  much  in  a  day  as  I  read  in  a 
week  ;  but,  at  the  end  of  twelve  months,  my  knowledge  was  as  fresh  as  on  the  day  it  was  acquired,  while 
(.heirs  had  glided  away  from  their  recollection.'  "  (Memoirs  of  Sir  Thomas  F.  Buxton,  chap,  xxiv.) 

§  307.  Numerous  devices  have  been  contrived  in  order  to  aid  the  mind  so 
w-y,1  o^mnenfon-  to  make  its  acquisitions  as  to  secure  them  against  loss,  and  to  bring  them 
ins<  readily  to  hand  when  required.  They  were  not  unknown  to  the  ancients,  as 

is  evident  from  Cicero,  De  Or.  ii.  86-88  ;  Ad  Herenn.  iii.  16-24  ;  Quinct. 
Instit.  x.  1,  11-26.  They  all  rest  upon  a  common  assumption  or  principle,  viz.,  that  it  is 
possible,  by  means  of  arbitrary  associations,  so  to  connect  what  one  desires  to  remember  with 
a  series  or  scheme  of  objects,  artificially  arranged  or  actually  existing,  that  they  can  be  readily 
and  certainly  suggested  to  the  mind.  Some  teachers  of  mnemonics  employ  a  scheme  of  geo- 
metrical figures,  as  squares  or  triangles.  For  example :  if  a  person,  in  listening  to  a  discourse 
or  lecture,  should,  as  the  speaker  proceeds,  connect  the  leading  thoughts  or  divisions  with  the 
panes  of  glass  in  a  window-sash,  or  the  panels  of  a  door,  he  would  avail  himself  of  the  geometrical 
method,  which  addresses  the  eye,  through  the  space-relations  of  visible  objects.  Often  these 
systems  have  sought  to  aid  the  memory  of  dates,  through  the  letters  of  the  alphabet ;  each 
Representing  some  number,  and  being  capable  of  forming  artificial  syllables,  which  can  be 
readily  attached  to  names  of  persons  or  places  distinguished  in  history.  For  example  :  you 
could  fix  in  your  memory  the  date  of  Napoleon's  birth  by  such  appropriate  syllables  indicating 
the  birth  and  the  date  together  as  should  form  the  artificial  word  NapoleomiJara.  To  the 
use  of  such  an  expedient  it  is  objected,  that,  though  it  might  serve  in  the  few  cases  in  which 
novelty  should  lend  interest  to  the  effort  and  the  subject-matter,  yet  the  task  of  modifying 
every  name  and  event,  and  then  learning  the  barbarous  terms  thus  formed,  would  necessarily 
become  uninteresting  and  onerous.  To  avoid  this  objection,  mnemonic  verses  and  tables  have 
been  furnished  for  many  of  the  important  objects  with  which  every  student  is  expected  to  be 
familiar,  as  the  names  of  the  sovereigns  of  the  great  kingdoms  and  empires,  grammatical 
paradigms  and  rules,  logical  formulae,  etc.,  etc. 

A  correct  estimate  of  the  value  of  all  artificial  memory  may  be  summed  up 
Value  of  mne-  as  follows :  The  natural,  as  opposed  to  the  artificial  memory,  depends  on  the 
monies.  relations  of  sense  and  the  relations  of  thought ;  the  spontaneous  memory  of 

the  eye  and  the  ear  availing  itself  of  the  obvious  conjunctions  of  objects 
which  are  furnished  by  space  and  time,  and  the  rational  memory,  of  those  higher  combinations 
which  the  rational  faculties  superinduce  upon  these  lower.  So  far  as  the  mind  is  intensified 
in  the  energy  of  its  attention,  through  the  interest  which  the  consideration  of  either  of  these 
classes  of  relations  excites,  so  far  is  the  natural  memory  susceptible  of  cultivation  and  im- 
provement. The  artificial  memory  proposes  to  substitute  for  the  natural  and  necessary  rela- 
tions under  which  all  objects  must  present  and  arrange  themselves,  an  entirely  new  set  of 
relations  that  are  purely  arbitrary  and  mechanical,  which  are  devised  for  no  other  object,  and 
excite  little  or  no  other  interest  than  that  they  are  to  aid  us  in  remembering. 

It  follows  that,  if  the  mind  tasks  itself  to  the  special  effort  of  considering 
Ob  ections  to  ODJects  under  these  artificial  relations,  it  will  give  less  attention  to  those  which 
mnemonics  have  a  direct  and  legitimate  interest  for  itself.  Its  energies,  instead  of  following 

in  easy  obedience  the  leadings  of  nature,  will  be  forced  to  exertions  that  are 
constrained  and  artificial.  Whatever  dexterity  is  acquired  by  these  intellectual  gymnastics, 
must  be  gained  at  the  expense  of  that  rhythmical  power  which  always  rewards  those  exertions 
in  which  art  follows  nature.  The  wonderful  feats  of  memory  which  are  occasionally  adduced 
as  resulting  from  the  latest  new  device  in  mnemonics,  are  the  fruits  of  much  time,  labor,  and 
enthusiasm.  Had  the  same  time,  labor,  and  enthusiasm  been  expended  in  acquiring  knowl- 
edge by  means  of  the  ordinary  appliances,  the  acquisitions  would  have  been  many  times  more 
valuable  for  the  cultMre  of  the  powers  and  the  uses  of  life.  Perhaps  even  the  numou*  of  fact* 
recorded  in  the  memory  would  have  been  as  numerous. 


§  308.  REPRESENTATION. — THE   MEMORY.  328 

There  are  occasions  when  the  artificial  memory  is  unquestionably  useful.  It 
When  are  they  mav  serve  a  good  purpose  in  holding  before  the  micd  facts  which  it  is  im 
useful  ?  portant  to  remember  when  neither  the  facts  themselves,  nor  their  relations, 

present  attractions  which  are  strong  enough  to  fix  or  hold  the  attention. 
Thus,  it  is  often  convenient  and  sometimes  necessary  to  learn  a  list  of  names,  a  succession 
of  dates,  a  system  of  nomenclature,  and  the  declensions,  genders,  paradigms,  etc.,  of  the  words 
of  a  strange  language.  To  the  child,  such  tasks  imply  no  special  difficulty ;  the  spontaneous 
memory  of  the  eye  and  the  ear  can  master  them  as  easily  under  one  set  of  relations  as 
another.  But  for  the  man  whose  intellectual  force  and  interest  are  preoccupied,  it  is  often 
difficult  to  apply  the  memory  with  success  to  such  objects,  unless  they  are  arranged  in  some 
novel  relations.  The  artificial  memory  comes  to  his  aid,  and  offers  the  service  and  assistance 
of  art  to  supplement  the  failing  forces  of  nature ;  to  reenforce,  and,  as  it  were,  to  renew  the 
spontaneous  memory  by  novel  appliances. 

One  of  the  most  ingenious  and  successful  examples  of  the  application  of  artificial  memory, 
General  Bern's  *8  furnished  in  the  plan  for  studying  history  and  chronology,  which  was  devised  by  tht 
Historical  Mne-  distinguished  Polish  General  Bern,  and  adopted  in  the  secondary  schools  of  France.  It 
has  also  received  some  favor  in  this  country.  Its  professed  design  is  to  hold  the  mind 
of  the  learner  in  active  occupation  upon  each  leading  event,  name,  date,  etc.,  so  long 
that  it  will  not  be  easy  to  forget  it.  He  is  also  compelled  to  view  each  in  its  relative  order  and  impor- 
tance. These  objects  are  accomplished  by  means  of  a  series  of  skeleton  charts,  the  several  divisions  of 
which  are  colored  by  the  pupil  himself,  after  the  large  chart  from  which  the  teacher  dictates  and  lectures ; 
each  lecture  being  afterwards  recited  by  the  pupil.  A  thorough  course  of  historical  studies  pursued  after 
this  method  must  require  much  time,  frequent  repetition,  and  almost  exclusive  attention.  (Cf.  E.  P.  Pea- 
body.  Universal  History  arranged  to  illustrate  Bern's  Chart  of  Chronology,  Chap,  vii.) 

8  308.    But  while  we  concede  a  certain   advantage  to  the 

Coleridge's   arts       '     .„    .   . 

of  memory.          artincial  memory  under  circumstances  like  these,  we  must 
still  hold,  with  Coleridge  (Biog.  Liter  aria,  chap,  vii.),  that, 
for  the  ordinary  uses  of  the  student,  sound  logic,  a  healthy  digestion,  and  a 
quiet  conscience  are  the  proper  conditions  or  arts  of  memory. 

By  sound  logic,  is,  of  course,  intended  a  well-balanced  and  well- 
trained  intellect,  which  by  original  structure  and  that  self-mastery  which 
training  imparts  and  implies,  is  capable  of  fixed  attention,  clear  apprehen- 
sion, and  excited  interest.  Without  these  conditions,  a  strong  and  trust- 
worthy memory  is  impossible. 

A  healthy  digestion  is  also  requisite  ;  for  if  the  digestion  is  disturbed, 
the  action  of  the  mind  will  be  distracted  by  those  vague  sensations  of 
depression  and  discomfort  which  are  inconsistent  with  that  harmonious 
interaction  of  the  powers  of  the  whole  man,  which  is  indispensable  to  a 
good  memory.  Even  though  it  happens  that  persons  in  this  condition  are  • 
capable  of  extraordinary  energy  in  their  mental  efforts,  yet  these  occasions 
are  certain  to  be  followed  by  longer  periods  of  listlessness  and  depression 
which  exclude  that  frequent  and  comfortable  repetition  and  review  of  the 
knowledge  which  are  quite  as  essential  as  energy  and  interest  at  the  time 
of  the  original  acquisition.  It  is  in  place  here  to  refer  again  to  the  dis- 
turbing influence  upon  the  memory  of  the  use  of  opium  and  intoxicating 
liquors.  Both  these  agents,  and  all  narcotics  and  stimulants  in  excess,  dis- 
turb the  normal  condition  of  the  sensorium,  so  as  to  preclude  the  steady 


324  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §309. 

attention,  the  cool  and  calm  judgment,  and  the  quiet  reflection  which  are 
essential  to  a  well-working  memory. 

A  clear  or  quiet  conscience  is  also  a  prime  requisite,  for  a  similar 
reason.  Indigestion  and  intoxication  of  any  kind  disturb  the  memory,  by 
intrusive,  uncomfortable  and  exciting  sensations.  But  the  consciousness 
of  guilt  haunts  the  spirit  with  disquieting  self-reproach,  and  a  vague  or 
defined  fear  of  deserved  punishment.  Feelings  of  this  sort  do  indeed 
often  stamp  upon  the  memory  certain  impressions  that  are  ineffaceable. 
But  for  this  very  reason  it  is  the  more  unfitted  to  attend  with  interest  or 
enthusiasm  to  other  objects,  and  its  movements  in  all  directions  are  be- 
numbed or  depressed  by  distraction  or  constraint. 

The  entire  passage  from  Coleridge  is  a  summary  of  valuable  truth.  "  Sound  logic,  as  the  habitual 
subordination  of  the  individual  to  the  species,  and  of  the  species  to  the  genus ;  a  philosophical  knowledge 
of  facts  under  the  relation  of  cause  and  effect ;  a  cheerful  and  communicative  temper,  that  disposes  us  tc 
notice  the  similarities  and  contrasts  of  things,  that  we  may  be  able  to  illustrate  the  one  by  the  other  ;  a 
quiet  conscience,  a  condition  free  from  anxieties ;  sound  health,  and  above  all  (as  far  as  relates  to  passive 
remembrance),  a  healthy  digestion ;  these  are  the  best— these  are  the  only  ARTS  or  MEMORY."  (Biog, 
Ltteraria,  chap,  vii) 

,    .       8  309.    It  is  natural,  in  this  connection,  to  notice  the  moral 

The   moral  ele-     ° 

ments  of  a  good  conditions  of  a  good  memory.  The  man  who  would  have  a 
strong  and  trustworthy  memory,  must  always  be  true  to  it 
in  his  dealings  with  himself  and  with  other  men.  He  must  paint  to  his  own 
imagination,  with  scrupulous  fidelity,  whatever  he  has  witnessed  or  expe- 
rienced. He  must  never  so  yield  to  the  bias  of  interest  or  passion,  as  to 
strive  to  persuade  himself,  even  for  a  moment,  that  events  were  different 
from  what  he  knows  they  actually  were.  He  must  seek  to  repeat  to  others 
the  precise  words  of  what  he  has  heard  or  read,  whenever  he  makes  com- 
munications by  language.  Such  a  moral  discipline  to  internal  and  external 
honesty,  both  implies  and  enforces  a  mental  discipline  to  earnest  and  wide- 
reaching  attention — an  attention  which  does  complete  justice  to  every 
object  that  comes  before  it,  and  which  neither  slights  nor  omits  any  thing 
which  ought  to  be  brought  to  view.  An  intellect  that  is  regulated  and 
neld  to  its  duties  by  the  tension  of  such  a  purpose,  will  act  with  the  pre- 
cision and  certainty  of  clock-work.  Its  recollections  will  be  trusted  by 
others,  because  they  are  trusted  by  the  person  himself,  and  for  the  best  of 
reasons — because  he  is  true  to  what  he  remembers. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  person  who  is  false  to  his  fellow-men,  will  often  weaken  his 
and*  ^onfounc!  confidence  in  his  own  intellect,  and  may  end  with  an  incapacity  to  distinguish 
the  memory.  falsehood  from  the  truth.  What  he  does  not  like  to  remember,  he  will  per. 

suade  himself  did  not  actually  happen,  or,  at  least,  not  in  erery  particular  as 
it  spontaneously  presents  itself  to  his  view.  At  first  he  dares  not  deal  false,?  with  the  record 
by  wilful  denial.  He  simply  refrains  from  giving  to  it  an  open-eyed  and  fixed  attention,  and  by 
degrees  allows  in  himself  careless  and  inattentive  habits  of  recalling  the  whole  truth.  Then  fol- 
lows, by  natural  consequence,  distrust  of  his  own  memory,  because  he  is  not  sure  that  the 
materials  are  at  hand  with  which  he  can  correct  his  own  omissions.  The  next  step  is,  unlet 
the  PToitement  of  strong  passion,  to  persuade  himself  that  what  he  desires  should  be  true.,  Jid 


§310.  REPRESENTATION. — THE  PHANTASY.  326 

really  occur,  or  was  really  written  or  said.  If  he  asserts  this  by  his  own  word,  he  is  the  mort 
strongly  committed  to  believe  it.  At  last,  he  becomes  so  false  to  the  workings  of  his  own 
memory,  that  he  dares  not  trust  it  himself.  Under  the  constant  excitements  of  passion  and 
prevailing  selfishness,  his  memory  and  imagination  are  confounded  together,  so  that  the  man 
himself  cannot  trace  the  line  which  divides  the  two.  The  appropriate  functions  of  the  mem- 
ory come  to  be  distrusted,  and  the  memory  itself  is  almost  obliterated. 

It  is  well  to  remember,  that,  while  the  liar  has  more  pressing  need  of  a  good  memory  than 
any  other  man,  he  is  of  all  men  the  least  likely  to  possess  it. 


CHAPTER  V. 

REPRESENTATION.  -  (2)  THE   PHANTASY,    OR   IMAGING   POWER. 

From  perfect  memory,  we  pass  (§  274)  through  the  several  forms  and  degrees  of  imperfect 
memory  till  we  come  to  the  phantasy.  In  other  words,  from  representation  with  recog- 
nition, we  proceed  to  representation  without  recognition.  The  phantasy  is  conspicuous 
in  reverie,  dreaming,  somnambulism,  and  insanity.  In  all  these  varied  forms  of  mani- 
festation, it  presents  some  of  the  most  difficult  as  well  as  the  most  interesting  problems 
for  the  student  of  the  soul  and  the  intellect  of  man. 


Phantas  de-  §  ^®"  ^e  P^antasy,  or  imaging  power,  is  that  form  of 
Sated  "^  illus"  rePresentation  which  brings  before  the  mind's  apprehension 

objects,  or,  more  exactly,  images,  as  such,  severed  from  all 
relations  of  place,  time,  or  previous  cognition.  The  best  example  of  the 
exercise  of  this  power  is  furnished  in  dreaming.  In  this  state,  the  mind 
is  the  passive  subject  and  observer  of  the  images  that  throng  in  upon  it, 
with  no  recognition  of  their  having  been  previously  known.  In  what  are 
called  the  abnormal  or  disordered  states  of  the  soul  —  as  somnambulism, 
and  the  various  types  and  degrees  of  insanity  —  the  phantasy  has  a  more 
or  less  complete  control.  Its  images  and  pictures  are  so  far  from  being 
remembered  as  past,  that  they  are  believed  to  be  present  realities. 

Among  the  wakeful  and  normal  states  of  the  soul,  reverie  is 
?eveofd  age  fan"  t^e  Purest  an(l  tne  most  perfect  instance  of  phantasy.  In 

this  condition,  the  workings  'of  the  phantasy  are  more  or 
less  pure,  according  as  the  mind  is  more  or  less  completely  given  up  to 
the  passive  contemplation  of  the  pictures  that  pass  rapidly  before  its  view. 
The  fewer  the  relations  to  the  past  or  the  present  which  they  suggest,  the 
more  complete  is  the  working  of  the  phantasy.  The  more  free  it  is  from 
any  attendant  sense-perceptions  or  from  any  remembrances  to  which  these 
pictures  tend,  or  from  any  operations  of  thought,  the  more  entire  is  the 
dominion  of  simple  phantasy.  In  earliest  infancy  this  power  may  be  sup- 
posed to  be  active,  for  the  reason  that  the  mind  has  not  yet  reached  a 
condition  in  which  memory  proper  is  possible.  As  soon,  however,  as  the 
mind  has  perceived  distinct  and  separate  objects,  it  has  materials  which  it 


826  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §311 

can  represent  simply  as  pictures,  even  before  it  has  perceived  them 
under  those  relations  of  place,  time,  and  its  own  experience  which  are 
essential  to  memory.  In  extreme  old  age  also,  when  the  incapacity  to 
attend  to  single  objects  for  a  long  continuance  precludes  intelligent  and 
effective  perception,  memory,  or  thought,  the  phantasy  may  still  survive, 
and  actively  call  up  the  pictures  of  the  past,  simply  as  pictures,  each 
recalling  the  flext,  according  to  the  conditions  and  laws  already  explained. 

v  In  the  wakeful  and  earnest  periods  of  the  mind's  activity,  the  exercise  of 

infrequent,  simple  phantasy  is  precluded,  for  the  obvious  reason,  that  at  such  times  the 
Trainsofassocia-  mm(j  jg  intent  upon  some  rational  object,  which  lifts  it  above  the  condition 
of  the  passive  recipience  or  contemplation  of  pictures.  What  would  other- 
wise be  pictures  only,  become  remembrances  ;  or  they  are  shaped  by  imagination  into  orderly 
and  rational  creations,  for  the  ends  of  amusement  and  instruction ;  or  they  are  subjected  to 
the  uses  of  thought  in  classification,  reasoning,  invention,  and  discovery.  And  yet,  with  such 
activities,  there  are  not  infrequently  mingled  those  approaching  to  pure  phantasy.  When  one 
object  suggests  another  in  a  train  of  associations,  many  may  be  recalled  without  a  single  dis- 
tinct act  of  remembrance,  and  yet  every  one  may  be  a  transcript  from  some  reality  experienced 
in  the  past.  Each  is  recalled,  however,  not  as  a  remembered  or  recognized  object,  but  as  an 
image  of  simple  phantasy.  Indeed,  in  every  such  train  of  rapid  association  through  which 
the  mind  proceeds  in  its  eager  quest  of  some  object  or  end  earnestly  sought  for,  innumerable 
such  pictures  must  present  themselves  in  rapid  succession.  Whatever  the  mind  may  have 
permanently  acquired — as  a  face,  a  landscape,  a  taste,  a  sound,  the  voice  or  step  of  a  friend, 
a  musical  air — may  come  back  as  a  phantasm,  or  image.  Of  many  of  these  objects  it  is  true, 
that  if  the  mind  dwells  upon  them,  they  may  be  remembered  as  well  as  pictured  ;  but  if  they 
pimply  flit  before  the  eye  of  the  mind,  each  suggesting  the  other,  their  presentation  and  obser- 
vation is  the  work  of  the  phantasy  alone.  This  power  is  exercised  far  more  frequently  than 
we  notice,  for  the  reason  that  it  is  mingled  with  the  exercise  of  the  higher  powers,  while  these 
last,  and  their  results,  occupy  our  chief  energy  and  attention. 

8  311.    When  the  higher  functions  of  the  soul  are  whollv, 

Painting.  Sleep.      '  J ' 

Distraction.  or  in  part,  put  in  abeyance,  as  in  fainting,  fatigue,  or  sleep, 
or  when  there  is  bodily  weakness,  or  any  disturbance  of  the 
nervous  equilibrium,  as  in  fever,  delirium,  or  excitement  from  liquor  or 
narcotics,  or  even  in  protracted  sleeplessness,  the  phantasy  asserts  a  more 
or  less  complete  dominion.  The  mind  is  visited  with  throngs  of  pictures, 
which  rush  so  rapidly  by  as  to  confuse  it  by  their  very  swiftness,  and  to 
oppress  it  by  a  sense  of  its  own  impotence  to  arrest  or  direct  their 
course.  When  this  condition  is  permanent,  the  mind  is  said  to  be  the 
victim  of  phantasy.  Such  a  state  is  called  also  a  state  of  distraction — 
which  term  describes  the  mind's  incapacity  to  fix  the  attention  or  detain 
these  flying  images  long  enough  to  allow  the  exercise  of  the  functions 
of  rational  memory,  invention,  or  thought. 

These  higher  and  rational  functions  are  often  in  part  suspended,  and  phantasy  has  a  teni 
porary  mastery.  At  such  times  it  presents  pictures  of  persons  or  events  that  have  been  im- 
pressed upon  the  attention  by  the  energy  of  strong  emotion.  A  paroxysm  of  fear  will  stamp 
an  image  so  ineffaceably  upon  the  phantasy,  that  it  will  ever  afterwards  be  held  ready  to  start 
forth  from  any  object  of  perception  or  memory  that  even  remotely  suggests  it.  The  mothei 


§312.  REPRESENTATION. — THE   PHANTASY.  327 

is  ever  beholding  with  the  eye  of  the  mind  the  image  of  her  child  that  is  forever  lost.  The 
perpetrator  of  crime  is  haunted  by  the  faces  of  those  whom  he  has  murdered  or  grievously 
wronged,  both  when  he  does  and  when  he  does  not  connect  them  with  any  past  scenes  or  acts 
observed  or  performed  by  himself. 

Three  supposi-    §  312.    These  conditions  of  the  soul  are  grave  problems  to 

tioiiB  possible  of     .-,  •,     •,       •    ,        mi  ,•  i  •    i     -i  • 

the  states  in  the  psychologist,  iney  suggest  questions  which  his  science 
must  attempt  to  answer.  Three  suppositions  may  be  made 
in  respect  to  them :  (1.)  These  states  may  be  said  to  be  simply  abnormal 
or  irregular,  recognizing  and  obeying  no  law.  (2.)  They  may  be  set  down 
as  simply  inexplicable,  suggesting  the  existence  of  laws  which  cannot  be 
discovered.  (3.)  They  may  be  explained  in  great  part  by  the  usually 
recognized  laws  of  the  soul  in  its  normal  and  wakeful  condition.  Of 
these  suppositions,  we  affirm  the  last.  To  affirm  the  second,  were  to  con- 
fess ignorance.  To  do  this,  if  it  is  necessary,  is  to  be  honest  and  wise ; 
but  not  unless  we  are  compelled  by  necessity.  Present  ignorance  should 
arouse  us  to  the  effort  of  explanation.  To  affirm  the  first,  were  to  deny 
one  of  our  primal  beliefs,  and  to  oppose  one  of  our  original  and  strongest 
tendencies.  The  probability  is,  then,  immensely  in  favor  of  the  last.  If 
the  laws  which  govern  the  recurrence  and  representation  of  ideas  have 
been  fully  £nd  correctly  set  forth,  they  ought  to  explain  the  phenomena 
of  the  sleeping  and  disordered  conditions  of  the  soul.  That  they  do  so, 
is  probable  for  the  following  reasons  : 

The  power  of  ^-  r^ne  power  of  association  operates  very  efficiently  in  these 
operative11  iS  conditions.  In  dreaming,  somnambulism,  insanity,  etc.,  etc., 
its  presence  and  powers  are  often  most  apparent.  Whatever 
else  is  strange  and  inexplicable  in  these  phenomena,  nothing  is  more  clear 
or  better  established,  than  that  the  threads  of  association  can  often  be  dis- 
tinctly traced  in  them.  When  we  ask  ourselves,  Why  did  it  happen  that 
I  had  such  or  such  a  dream  ?  or,  How  did  it  happen  that  this  thought  or 
that  occurred  to  me  perhaps  under  a  strange  disguise  ?  it  is  often  very 
easy  to  answer  by  a  reference  to  the  usually  recognized  laws  of  association. 
The  strange  and  unexpected  sallies  of  the  insane,  however  wild  and  pre- 
posterous they  may  be,  follow  some  law  of  association,  though  it  often  leads 
to  the  most  fantastic  result.  There  is  always  some  method  in  their  mad- 
ness. Given  the  impression  of  some  conception  or  fancy,  and  it  will  draw  a 
score  or  hundred  others  with  it  by  a  rational  and  orderly  suggestion. 
Deviations  ac-  ^  The  deviations  from  the  ordinary  working  of  these  laws 
E°unchange8  (1in  can  a^s°'  *°  some  extent,  be  satisfactorily  accounted  for. 
Po?tfonatio7  pthe  (*•)  The  Powers  °f  tne  soul  ordinarily  act  in  a  certain 
conjunction  with  and  proportion  to  one  another.  It  is  not 
surprising,  that,  when  a  single  powrer  acts  alone,  the  phenomena  should 
differ  very  greatly  from  those  which  result  from  the  combined  activity  of 
the  rest.  In  the  cases  supposed,  self-consciousness,  rational  activity,  and  the 
voluntary  control  of  the  bodily  movements  and  the  mental  states,  are  all 


328  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §313. 

set  aside  and  the  associative  power  asserts,  to  a  very  large  extent,  th« 
possession  of  the  soul.  We  ought  not  to  be  surprised,  that  a  powei 
ordinarily  acting  in  connection  with  the  wakeful  reason  and  under  its 
control,  should  manifest  results  unlike  those  which  appear  when  these 
regulating  elements  are  present.  That  the  images  suggested  should  differ 
from  those  suggested  by  the  same  exciting  causes  under  other  circum- 
stances— that  images  should  even  be  taken  for  real  existences — that,  being 
believed  to  be  realities,  they  should  suggest  images  differing  from  those 
which  they  would  excite  when  known  to  be  images  only,  that  the  activity 
of  the  mind,  in  this  isolated  and  unruled  form,  should  seem  to  be  more 
rapid  than  in  its  waking  and  rational  states,  are  phenomena  which  should 
occasion  no  great  surprise.  We  have,  by  the  supposition,  an  unquestioned 
fact — the  associative  power  acting,  to  a  great  degree,  independently  of 
the  other  powers.  It  ought  to  be  expected  that  its  results,  and  the  modes 
of  its  operation,  should  vary  from  those  which  attend  it  when  working 
conjointly  with  the  rest. 

(2.)  Certain  bodily  states  are  known  greatly  to  modify  the 
bodily  states.tbe  actings  of  the  soul,  when  the  soul  is  wakeful  and  in  health. 

It  is  according  to  the  law  of  its  being,  that  its  action  should 
be  modified  still  more  when  the  bodily  affections  become  more  efficient 
and  obtrusive.  Whether  the  vital  and  psychical  principles  are  or  are  not 
the  same,  no  fact  is  more  obvious  than  that  the  action  of  the  soul  is  con- 
trolled very  largely  by  bodily  and  material  conditions.  The  power  of 
these  conditions  upon  the  soul  in  wakefulness  and  health  is  most  efficient, 
and  often  irresistible.  At  times  they  nearly  displace  and  set  aside  the 
higher  powers.  Weariness,  pain,  disturbing  sounds  and  sights,  and  many 
other  influences,  so  weaken  and  distract  the  attention — they  so  absorb  or 
lower  the  intellectual  and  voluntary  energy,  that  perception,  memory, 
reasoning,  and  even  consciousness  itself,  are  well-nigh  suspended. 

It  should  not  be  surprising  then,  that  under  other  physical  conditions, 
such  as  sleep  and  cerebral  excitement,  even  stranger  psychical  phenomena 
should  be  manifest.  Whether  or  not  any  connection  can  be  traced  between 
these  physical  changes  and  the  psychical  results,  the  fact  that  there  are 
extraordinary  effects  of  this  sort,  is  in  entire  accordance  with  the  analogies 
suggested  by  facts  that  are  familiar  and  acknowledged. 
(3.)  By  other  (3-)  The  comprehensive  law  under  which  past  mental  states 
E?5SfSiLoD  are  reproduced,  should  be  distinguished  from  the  materials 
which  it  works.  UpOn  ^^  ^  operates.  While  the  laws  of  representation  re- 
main the  same,  the  conditions  under  which,  and  the  materials  with  which 
they  act,  may  vary  enough  to  account  for  every  variety  of  phenomena. 

8  313.    The  law  of  reproduction  acts  out  of  consciousness. 

More  particular      "          «-...•••  T   •  •     •  -I-IT  •   r 

consideration  of    We  nn d  it  in  being  and  in  constant  activity.     We  can  neither 

the      conditions        .     _  .  T  ,,  . 

of    representa-    hinder  nor  arrest  its  course.     It  is  continually  presenting  tc 
our  view  images  or  ideal  objects  of  knowledge,  of  some  of 


§313.  REPRESENTATION. — THE   PHANTASY.  329 

which  we  distinctly  recall  that  they  have  been  previously  present  as 
realities  or  images,  or  infer  that  this  must  have  been  true  of  them.  It  is 
constantly  casting  up  or  turning  out  before  us  some  image  that  more  or 
less  efficiently  catches  and  holds  the  attention.  The  suggesting  object  is 
often  entirely  unnoticed.  We  are  not  aware  how  we  came  to  think  of 
some  image  or  picture,  that  obtrusively  thrusts  itself  upon  our  notice,  or, 
as  we  say,  springs  up  in  our  mind.  Here  and  there  we  notice  one  that  if 
more  important  and  interesting  than  the  others.  To  the  actual  reproduc- 
tion of  an  image,  two  conditions  are  necessary,  viz.,  its  actual  previous 
presence  to  the  mind,  and  the  existence  of  an  exciting  occasion  in  some- 
thing united  with  it  as  an  element  of  the  mind's  previous  knowledge  or 
feeling. 

Unnoticed  bodi-  ^n  dreaming,  insanity,  etc.,  these  conditions  vary  in  both 
ilProaduceTyia  particulars.  This  is  explained  in  part  by  the  very  great 
dreaming,  etc.  variety  of  elements  that  enter  into  the  soul's  experience. 
First,  in  the  states  of  distinct  and  easily-remembered  consciousness,  there 
are  many  elements  less  distinctly  noticed — elements  purely  accessory  and 
subordinate.  In  the  states  under  consideration,  these  may  be  brought 
forward  either  as  the  materials  of  phantasy,  or  as  the  mediate  suggestors 
of  other  materials.  In  every  act  of  distinct  perception,  there  is  an  ex 
tended  background  of  such  objects,  standing  out  in  the  field  of  view 
with  more  or  less  prominence,  but  all  engrossing  some  share  of  the  soul's 
energy.  Any  one  of  these  objects,  under  possible  exciting  occasions,  is 
capable  of  being  recalled.  In  the  normal  states  of  the  soul,  the  prominent 
or  central  object  is  usually  recalled.  In  an  abnormal  state,  some  one  of 
the  accessories  may  be  represented.  Under  the  feelings  and  purposes 
of  wakefulness,  a  certain  class  of  pictures  and  thoughts  only  may  be 
certain  to  be  thought  of.  In  dreaming,  another  set  may  present  them- 
selves ;  in  insanity,  still  another ;  and  yet  all  of  these  may  have  been 
gathered  from  the  mind's  own  experience.  Again :  there  are  many  con- 
ditions of  the  soul  marked  by  little  energy  of  attention,  as  well  as  by  the 
feeble  influence  of  rational  purpose,  in  which  the  phantasy  alone  prevails. 

In  walking,  in  driving  for  relaxation,  in  extreme  fatigue,  in  the  transitions  from  wakefulnesa 
to  sleep  and  from  sleep  to  wakefulness,  in  the  many  listless  hours  or  seasons  of  reverie, 
there  are  multitudes  of  acts  and  objects  which  leave  little  impression,  and  are  rarely,  if  ever, 
distinctly  brought  back  to  the  rational  and  wakeful  memory  or  imagination,  simply  because 
these  are  preoccupied  by  occasions  which  suggest  another  description  of  material  from  past 
experience.  But  there  is  a  possibility  that  any  of  these  should  be  recalled  under  novel  cir- 
cumstances. 

Again,  there  are  activities  that  have  been  experienced  previously  to  the  soul's 
The  pre-con-  conscious  action.  The  soul  exists  and  acts  in  a  rudimentary  way,  long  before 
eScefand^ates"  there  is  a  rational  apprehension  of  its  states.  Some  of  these  acts  tend  to  be 

reproduced,  and,  under  varying  circumstances,  may  return  either  as  a  prin- 
cipal or  accessory  element.  Again :  the  undefined  bodily  sense-perceptions,  or  sensations 
which  aro  accessory  in  every  mental  experience,  and  are  prominent  in  not  a  few — which  force 


330  THE    HUMAN  INTELLECT. 

the  background  of  many,  and  come  into  the  foreground  of  many  also,  all  tend  to  recur  again 
In  the  rational  and  wakeful  periods  of  activity  they  may  not,  in  fact,  reappear,  because  thej 
are  crowded  out  by  others  that  are  more  important  ;  but,  under  other  circumstances,  they  ma5 
be  thrust  forward  as  images,  or  as  the  occasions  or  suggestors  of  others,  and  thus,  in  part, 
account  for  the  objects  thought  of  by  the  dreamer  and  the  insane. 

The  hodii  con-  But,  second,  we  notice  that  in  these  abnormal  states  of  the 
decunar  images'  sou^  ^ne  occasions  which  control  the  presentation  and  sug- 
gestion of  images  are  peculiar.  In  sleep,  all  the  organs  of 
sense-perception  are  more  or  less  quiescent,  while  the  vital  organs  are  active. 
In  insanity,  etc.,  the  bodily  condition  and  activities  are  peculiar.  In  both, 
they  are  greatly  unlike  those  which  are  present  in  wakefulness  and  health. 
This  is  conceded  by  all  physiologists.  These  peculiar  and  morbid  bodily 
states  are  manifest  to  the  soul  in  the  form  of  peculiar  sensations,  both 
vital  and  organic.  Sleep,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end,  is  attended  by 
a  series  of  sense-perceptions  unlike  those  experienced  in  wakefulness. 
We  refer  to  those  which  pertain  to  the  body,  and  its  subjective  condi- 
tion. Insanity,  in  all  its  forms  and  degrees,  is  attended  by  a  nervous 
excitement  or  depression,  which  is  revealed  to  consciousness  by  irritating 
and  uncomfortable  sensations.  The  character  of  these  sensations  varies 
with  the  nature  of  their  exciting  occasions.  But  these  sensations,  thus  ex- 
cited, become  themselves,  in  turn,  the  excitants  of  images  and  thought* 
kindred  to  themselves. 

For  example  :  suppose,  in  sleep,  when  the  sensations  appropriate  to  the  bodily  organs  are 
all  withdrawn,  some  condition  of  the  stomach  or  the  brain  furnishes  positive  and  peculiar 
sensations  to  the  mind.  These,  by  the  necessity  of  the  case,  are  all-engrossing.  They  fill 
the  mind's  field  of  perception,  there  being  none  of  the  outward  senses  in  action.  But  if,  for  any 
reason,  these  sensations  have  been  associated  with  any  other  objects  of  knowledge,  either 
realities  or  images,  these  will  be  certain  to  be  revived.  These  being  recalled,  in  their  turn 
will  call  up  others,  and  the  mind  being  wholly  free  from  the  preoccupations  of  the  sense- 
world,  will  be  given  up  to  the  objects  of  phantasy,  the  current  of  which  will  be  swayed  and 
directed  by  two  elements  —  viz.,  the  subjective  sensations  occasioned  by  the  bodily  condition 
and  the  associating  force  of  the  images  which  the  unfettered  phantasy  suggests.  Tn  insanity, 
let  some  morbid  condition  of  the  brain  or  nervous  organism  preoccupy  the  mind  with  sensa- 
tions so  painful  anu  absorbing  as  to  forbid  the  continued  notice  of  the  sense-world,  or  so  rapid 
as  to  render  it  impossible  for  the  mind  to  obtain  distinct  perceptions  even  of  the  more  familiar 
objects,  and  these  all  engrossing  sensations  may  not  only  be  confounded  with  and  mistaken  for 
real  things,  but  may  act  as  the  suggestors  of  any  images  with  which  such  abnormal  sensations 
may  have  been  associated,  or  to  which  they  are  akin. 

The      creative    ^  th*r(l  consideration  should  also  be  noticed.     The  creative 


power    of    the    phantasy    may    have    especial    activity   in 
bo  denied.  dreaming  and  insanity.     Whatever  that  power  may  be  in 

its  functions  and  products  —  if  it  be  allowed  that  the  phantasy  is  in  any 
sense  creative  —  if,  in  the  waking  and  rational  states,  it  is  not  tied  to  a 
simple  reproduction  of  the  past  ;  if  it  has  any  liberty  of  origination,  then 
it  might  be  natural  and  credible  for  it  to  exercise  this  freedom  more  ,, 


§314.  EEPRESENTATION. — THE   PHANTASY.  331 

fully  when  unlimited  by  sense,  reason,  or  will,  than  when  constrained  by 
these  in  the  earnest  activities  of  the  wakeful  and  rational  hours.  That  the 
creations  of  the  phantasy  of  the  dreamer  and  the  madman  have  no  cor- 
respondent realities,  is  obvious  to  all.  The  creations  of  "  a  madman's 
dream  "  are  conceived  by  us  as  the  most  unnatural  and  the  wildest  of  all 
unrealities.  Whether  there  can  be  any  explanation  of  the  laws  of  this 
creative  power  or  not,  or  any  solution  of  the  kind  of  products  which  it 
evolves,  it  is  but  just  to  observe  that  it  is  exerted  in  the  sleeping  as  well 
as  in  the  waking  states.  If  the  phantasy  is,  in  its  very  nature,  a  creative 
as  well  as  representative  power,  it  is  not  surprising  that  it  should  create 
in  madness  and  in  sleep.  If  its  creations  are  free  in  the  one  state,  when 
reason  is  wakeful  and  the  will  is  attent,  and  earnest  purposes  control,  it  is 
not  surprising  that,  in  those  conditions  of  activity  in  which  these  influences 
are  feeble,  its  products  should  be  irrational  and  unnatural. 

These  considerations  may  serve  as  the  foundations  of  a  general  theory 
of  those  various  conditions  of  the  soul's  activity  known  as  faintness, 
dreaming,  somnambulism,  and  delirium.  They  are  designed  only  to  pre- 
pare for  a  more  particular  consideration  of  each.  We  consider,  first  of 
all,  sleep,  in  two  aspects. 

(1.)  Sleep  as  a  condition  of  the  body,  or,  Sleep  physiologically  considered. 

§  814.  We  cannot  understand  sleep  as  a  state  of  the  soul,  without  consider- 
The  senses,  in  ing  the  corporeal  conditions  of  these  peculiar  psychological  phenomena.  In 
orfess inert™0  '  order  to  interpret  it  psychologically,  we  must  first  consider  it  physiologically. 

In  sleep,  physiologically  viewed,  the  organs  of  perception,  and  the  nerves 
connected  with  them,  are  comparatively  inactive,  and  seem  incapable  of  performing  their 
accustomed  functions.  The  nervous  activity  which  is  essential  to  their  being  used  in  the  ser- 
vice of  the  soul  is  greatly  weakened,  and  is  often,  to  appearance,  entirely  suspended.  The 
power  of  the  eye  and  the  ear  to  perform  their  parts  as  the  conditions  of  the  several  sense- 
perceptions  appropriate  to  each,  no  longer  exists.  Popularly  speaking,  these  organs  of  the 
body  are  no  longer  affected  by  their  appropriate  stimuli,  and  no  longpi  themselves  affect  the  soul. 

Conversely,  also,  the  soul  can  no  longer  coutrol  the  organs  of  sense  and  of 
They  are  not  locomotion ;  or,  more  exactly,  the  soul  loses,  in  a  very  great  degree,  ita 
controlled  by  the  power  tQ  direct  tnege  organg_  The  efft  ^  nerves  connected  with  these 

organs  are  so  far  weakened  or  lowered  in  tone  as  to  render  this  control  very 
imperfect,  and  seemingly  to  destroy  it  altogether.  All  the  functions  which  connect  the  soul 
with  the  external  world,  and  which  depend  on  the  senso-motor  nerves  and  the  cerebro-spinal 
iystem,  are  nearly,  or  quite,  suspended  in  sleep. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  functions  of  the  vegetative,  circulatory,  and  respiratory 
The  vegetative,  organs,  which  are  directly  connected  with  the  ganglionic  system  of  nerves, 
^Storylife1.*1  g°  on  M  usual>  though  in  the  case  of  some  with  a  somewhat  diminished 

energy.  The  heart  beats,  and  the  lungs  are  expanded  and  contracted ;  the 
Btomach  digests,  but  at  a  lower  than  its  customary  rate.  It  would  follow  that  nutrition,  or 
the  secretion  of  the  food,  would  also  be  less  rapid  and  energetically  effected.  That  in  all 
these  functions  the  whole  tone  of  life  is  lowered,  is  manifest  directly  from  observation,  and  is 
inferred  from  the  greater  sensitiveness  of  the  body  in  sleep,  to  all  those  agencies  which  weaken 
or  endanger  the  life.  The  temperature  of  the  body  is  lowered ;  hence  the  need  of  warmer 
clothing,  and  the  greater  readiness  to  take  cold,  to  be  injured  by  malaria,  or  other  destructive 
hifluences.  All  these  facts  indicate  that  the  vital  force,  or  the  power  to  resist  antagonists 


332  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §315, 

agencies,  is  diminished.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  certain  that  the  nutrition  of  the  brain  and  th€ 
whole  nervous  organism,  is  greatly  augmented  in  sleep,  and  that  sleep  is  even  essential  to  restore 
the  waste  of  their  material  which  wakefulness  occasions.  What  is  the  precise  manner,  or  what 
are  the  laws  by  which  this  restoration  is  effected  in  sleep,  physiology  cannot  fully  explain.  It 
can  only  observe  and  record  the  fact,  of  the  truth  of  which  there  cannot  possibly  be  any  question 
or  doubt.  That  the  restoration  of  this  power  is  especially  needed  by  that  portion  of  the 
nervous  organism  which  is  affected  by  the  action  of  the  intellect,  is  also  beyond  dispute. 

A  few  recent  and  carefully-conducted  observations  and  experiments  have 
Recent  discov-  established  the  following  results :  In  sleep,  the  flow  of  arterial  blood  is 
elusion's?  diminished,  and  its  quantity  is  sensibly  withdrawn  from  the  brain.  The 

apparent  congestion  of  the  vessels  of  the  brain  is  occasioned  either  by  the 
more  sluggish  movement  and  larger  accumulation  of  venous  blood,  or  by  the  presence  of  the 
watery  cerebro-spinal  fluid.  In  dreams,  the  arterial  circulation  in  the  brain  is  somewhat 
quickened.  In  deeper  and  dreamless  sleep  it  is  less  rapid. 

In  wakefulness,  the  brain  and  body  are  wasted  by  the  more  rapid  action  of  the  oxygenated 
or  arterial  blood ;  and  hence  the  wasting,  destructive,  and  exhaustive  processes  are  in  excess 
of  the  nutritive.  In  sleep,  the  nutritive  and  constructive  are  in  excess  of  the  wasting ;  so 
that,  while  the  body  is  in  this  condition,  not  only  is  the  waste  of  the  waking  hours  repaired, 
but  additional  force  is  accumulated  and  stored  up  against  the  demands  which  will  be  made  upon 
it  when  wakefulness  returns.  The  increased  intellectual  and  emotional  activity  of  the  waking 
state  involves  the  most  rapid  waste  of  the  brain.  If  wakefulness  is  protracted  too  long,  by 
nervous  restlessness,  or  excessive  mental  occupation  or  anxiety,  it  terminates  in  fever,  delirium, 
or  dementia,  through  a  temporary  disease  or  permanent  lesion  of  the  nervous  organism  itself. 
Hence,  sleep  is,  if  possible,  more  absolutely  indispensable  to  the  restoration  of  mental  activity, 
than  to  that  of  any  other  human  function. 

The  incapacity  of  the  organs  of  sense  to  be  affected  by  impressions  from 
These  conditions  without,  as  well  as  to  yield  to  influences  or  directions  from  within,  varies  at 
tiwfaud  degree."  different  times.  It  occurs  in  different  degrees,  from  the  slight  hebetude  or 

obtuseness  of  which  we  are  aware  on  the  first  approach  of  slumber,  and  from 
which  we  can  easily  be  aroused  by  any  usual  excitement  from  the  world  without,  up  to  the 
deepest  slumber  from  which  no  external  appliances  can  arouse  the  subject  to  even  momentary 
sensibility.  The  want  of  control  of  the  soul  over  its  organs,  also  varies  from  the  momentary 
loss  of  power  which  can  suddenly  be  resumed,  to  that  permanent  impotence  to  speak  or  move, 
which  is  experienced  in  the  most  distressing  nightmare. 

§  315.  In  falling  to  sleep,  the  soul  passes  through  many  of  these  conditions, 
The  soul  falls  beginning  with  the  slightest  unconsciousness,  and  proceeding  more  or  less 
gre'eT  *  '  gradually  through  more  or  fewer  intervening  stages,  according  as  the  sleep 

attains  a  more  or  less  complete  insensibility,  and  reaches  this  state  by  tran- 
sitions that  are  more  or  less  rapid.  In  awaking  from  sleep,  it  emerges  from  a  condition  of 
more  or  less  complete  insensibility  to  one  in  which  the  senses  are  fully  refreshed  and  active ; 
and  more  or  less  gradually,  according  as  the  occasion  and  manner  of  its  waking  is  more  or  less 
gentle  or  violent.  The  same  is  true  of  the  processes  by  which  it  loses  and  regains  its  com- 
mand over  the  organs. 

Cabanis  (Rapports  du  physique  et  du  moral,  etc.,  Mem.  x.)  endeavors  to  show  that  there 
is  a  natural  and  regular  order  in  which  the  several  senses  fall  to  sleep.  The  sight  is  the  first 
which  becomes  quiescent ;  the  sense  of  taste  is  next  in  order ;  the  sense  of  smell  is  affected 
next ;  the  hearing  next ;  and,  last  of  all,  the  touch.  In  awaking,  the  touch  is  most  easily 
aroused,  at  least  in  certain  parts  of  the  body,  as  the  feet ;  the  hearing  comes  next  in  order, 
the  sight  next,  while  the  senses  of  taste  and  smelling  awake  the  last.  But  Jo  this  relativ« 
proportion  of  the  intensity  of  sleep  there  are  many  exceptions  in  the  case  of  different  indi- 
viduals,  and  in  the  varying  bodily  and  mental  circumstances  of  each,  if  we  say  nothing  of  the 
general  proclivities  dependent  upon  sex,  age,  etc.  While  these  conclusions  may  be  accepted 


§316.  BEPRESENTATION. — THE    PHANTASY.  333 

as  general  formula,  it  must  still  be  remembered  that  no  two  cases  of  falling  asleep  or  awak- 
ing from  sleep  even  in  the  same  individual,  are  precisely  alike  in  respect  to  the  stages  oi 
progress  or  emergence. 

The  different  senses,  as  has  already  been  intimated,  fall  asleep  at  different 
One  sense  may  times  in  various  degrees,  and  awake  also  in  unlike  proportions.  This  is  true 
may'be^wake6.18  of  the  action  of  the  sense-organs  on  the  soul,  and  of  the  reactioz.  of  the  soul 

upon  the  organs.  Thus,  the  sense  of  sight  may  be  very  obtuse  when  the 
sense  of  hearing  is  active,  as  is  the  case  when  a  person  watches  by  the  bed  of  one  who  is  ill, 
or  in  the  instance  of  men  who  can  find  refreshment  in  sleep  when  reading  or  conversation  is 
going  on,  and  be  able  to  recite  when  awake  what  has  been  read  or  spoken  while  they  were 
sleeping.  The  miller  sleeps  while  his  mill  is  grinding,  but  wakes  if  it  stops.  Another  person 
sleeps  while  it  is  still,  but  wakes  when  it  moves.  The  watchman,  when  wearied,  sleeps  with 
all  his  senses,  except  the  senses  of  touch  and  muscular  direction.  Soldiers  sleep  in  every  sense 
and  organ  of  motion,  except  the  legs  with  which  they  march  continuously.  We  may  say  of 
almost  every  case  of  slumber,  that  it  is  unlike  every  other  in  respect  to  the  proportion  in 
which  each  of  the  senses  is  insensible  or  incapable  of  control. 

A  remarkable  story  is  told  by  Felix  Platerus  of  Oporinus,  a  distinguished  professor  and 
printer  at  Basle  ;  to  the  effect  that  he  read  aloud  to  another  person  a  long  time  from  a  newly- 
found  manuscript,  while  he  was  soundly  asleep  in  all  his  other  senses  as  a  consequence  of  a 
long  and  fatiguing  journey.  (Hamilton,  Met.  Lee.  xvii.) 

(2.)  Sleep  as  a  condition  of  the  soul,  or,  Sleep  considered  psychologically. 

§  316.  The  activity  of  the  soul  continues  during  sleep.  It  is  not  entirely 
Does  the  soul  suspended  at  any  time,  though  its  energy  may  now  and  then  be  exceedingly 
Btapl*0  L  feeble.  That  it  often  acts  during  sleep,  is  confessed  by  all.  Every  dream 

involves  some  form  of  the  activity  of  the  soul.  Inasmuch  as  all  men  ac- 
knowledge that  dreams  are  possible  during  sleep,  all  must  assent  to  the  proposition  that  it  ia 
possible  for  the  soul  to  be  active  while  the  body  slumbers.  There  is  some  diversity  of  opinion 
in  respect  to  the  question,  whether  this  activity  is  constant,  or  whether  it  is  ever  interrupted. 
Many  have  argued  that  this  activity  often  ceases,  from  the  circumstance  that  we  are  not  con- 
scious, nor  do  we  remember  that  we  dream  all  the  while  that  we  are  asleep  ;  that  we  know  that 
we  dream  more  frequently  when  sleep  is  less  complete,  as  soon  after  we  fall  asleep,  or  just 
before  we  wake ;  that  in  our  deepest  slumber  it  often  happens  that  no  signs  of  conscious 
activity  are  indicated  to  a  looker-on  ;  and  that  it  is  not  necessary  to  the  continued  existence  of 
the  soul  that  it  be  constantly  active. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  is  urged  that  the  soul  is  always  active,  because,  on 
manyS°belSievebrt  awaking,  it  is  at  once  aware  of  its  own  identity,  which  involves  the  belief  of 
never  ceases  to  continued  existence  during  the  interval  of  sleep  ;  and  when  it  wakes,  it  may 

recall  or  review  a  continued  series  of  sensational  experiences,  if  it  cannot 
bring  back  an  uninterrupted  course  of  conscious  activities.  Moreover,  it  is  urged  that  the 
fact  that  the  soul  does  not  recall  all  its  dreams  does  not  disprove  that  it  dreams,  for  there  are 
many  waking  states  during  the  progress  of  a  single  hour,  much  more  during  a  day,  which  can. 
not  be  recalled.  There  are  also  many  dreams  which  we  do  not  recall ;  as  is  obvious  from  the 
circumstance,  that  if,  on  waking,  we  lay  hold  at  once  of  the  thread  which  is  in  our  hands,  we 
can  trace  our  way  backwards  through  the  maze  of  even  a  succession  of  dreams.  When  a  per- 
son  is  suddenly  awaked  from  the  soundest  sleep,  and  even  from  a  state  of  confirmed  stupor, 
and  his  thoughts  are  directed  immediately  to  his  mental  condition  the  instant  before,  he  will 
often  be  able  to  recall  some  absorbing  dream ;  or,  if  not  a  dream  of  definite  thoughts  and 
feelings,  he  will  remember  a  series  of  benumbed  sensations,  painful  or  pleasant,  that  have 
occupied  his  energies.  The  reason  why  more  of  these  past  activities  and  experiences  are 
not  recalled,  is  that  the  waking  thoughts  and  feelings  are  so  all-absorbing  as  to  exclude  the 
opportunity  of  recalling,  if  the  clue  were  at  hand,  and  that  this  clue  can  only  be  reached  bj 


334  THE  HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  318 

many  indirect  or  intermediate  trains  of  activity.  That  we  are  often  conscious  when  ire  sleep, 
without  knowing  that  we  dream,  is  obvious  from  the  fact  that  an  uncommon  light,  or  smell,  01 
touch,  or  sound,  even  if  these  are  very  feeble,  will  awake  us,  and  that  we  wake  ourselves  often 
at  a  prescribed  hour  (cf.  Hamilton,  Met.  Lee.  xvii.). 

The  constant  activity  of  the  soul  was  argued  hy  the  Platonists  from  its  independent  and 
Opinions  of  Des-  ethereal  essence;  by  Descartes  and  his  school,  from  their  axiom,  that  the  essence  ol 
cartes,  Locke,  the  soul  consists  iti  thought,  and  that  therefore,  if  thought  should  cease,  the  essence 
and  Leibnitz.  of  the  Boul  woui<i  be  destroyed.  Against  the  school  of  Descartes,  Locke  (Essay,  B.  ii. 

c.  i.  §§  10-19)  urges  that  it  is  not  of  the  essence  of  spirit  to  think ;  and  that,  for  aught  we 
can  prove,  matter  might,  by  the  act  of  the  creator,  be  endowed  with  the  power  of  thought.  Moreover,  he 
contends  that  some  men  never  dream  at  all,  and  that  none  are  conscious  that  they  dream  continuously ; 
making  in  his  argument  the  power  to  recall  our  dreams  the  test  and  the  measure  of  the  actual  occurrence 
of  these  dreams.  Leibnitz,  in  his  critique  upon  Locke  (JVb«v.  Ess.  ii.  1,  §§  10-19),  replies,  that  conscious- 
ness is  not  necessary  to  the  soul's  activity,  and  that  it  would  not  follow,  therefore,  because  we  are  not 
conscious  that  we  think,  that  we  do  not  think  in  fact.  He  also  urges,  that  there  are  feeble  perceptions  in 
all  sleep,  even  when  we  are  not  conscious  that  we  dream.  This  conclusion  necessarily  follows,  from  his 
doctrine  of  monads,  involving  as  it  does  the  constant  activity  or  dynamic  force  of  all  existences  and  their 
ultimate  elements,  in  the  relations  of  each  to  every  other ;  and  preeminently,  the  activity  of  those  which 
are  psychical.  Modern  psychologists  are  nearly  unanimous  in  the  opinion,  that  the  soul  is  constantly 
active,  though  with  unequal  energy  varying  with  the  different  conditions  or  intensities  of  the  slumber. 
This  conclusion  is  held  by  all  except  those  who  maintain  that  psychical  activity  is  properly  a  function  o! 
matter  and  its  organs.  It  rests  upon  the  grounds  which  have  already  been  cited,  and  on  the  clearer  recog- 
nition of  the  very  unequal  energy  of  consciousness  in  the  varying  conditions  of  the  soul's  being. 

§  317.  That  the  soul  acts  with  feebler  energy  when  asleep  than  when  awake 
The  soul,  in  is  obvious  from  the  circumstance  that  in  some  of  its  powers  it  scarcely  acts 
f3er^nerg^.th  at  all  with  judgment  or  rational  direction.  It  may  be  fairly  inferred  from 

the  general  dependence  of  the  tone  of  its  action  upon  the  tone  of  the  body 
which  is  observed  in  wakefulness,  which  dependence,  as  may  be  fairly  inferred  from  analogy, 
extends  to  its  sleeping  states.  The  only  possible  exception  to  this  conclusion  would  be  sug- 
gested by  the  fact  that  some  of  the  powers — e.  g.,  the  phantasy — may  seem  to  act  in  sleep 
with  greater  energy  than  in  wakefulness.  This  point  will  be  considered  when  the  action  of 
the  representative  power  is  particularly  examined.  In  general,  we  know  from  observation, 
and  infer  by  analogy,  in  respect  both  of  the  sleeping  and  the  waking  states,  that  the  psychical 
energy  depends  on  the  vital  force,  if,  indeed,  it  is  not  identical  with  it,  so  that  when  the  one  ia 
lowered,  the  other  is  weakened.  The  only  apparent  exception  to  this  general  remark  is  found 
in  those  conditions  when  great  bodily  or  vital  weakness  manifests  itself  in  the  irregular  and  ex- 
cited action  of  some  of  the  vital  functions,  and,  in  like  manner,  psychical  weakness  is  exhibited 
by  the  excited  violence  of  some  of  the  intellectual  or  emotional  endowments.  With  this 
exception,  observation  confirms  what  analogy  suggests,  that,  in  sleep,  the  general  activity  of 
the  soul  is  greatly  lowered. 

The  powers  and  capacities  of  the  soul  act  with  unequal  and  varying  energy 
acfw?t^u^equal    in  different  persons  and  in  differing  conditions  of  sleep, 
and   varying  As  the  sleep  of  the  body  varies  in  the  completeness  of  its  effects  upon 

the  whole  body,  and  also  upon  its  several  organs,  so  is  it  with  the  sleep  of 
the  souL  In  one  dream,  the  power  of  sense-perception  may  be  more  active  than  in  another. 
At  one  time,  consciousness,  even  in  the  form  of  reflection,  may  be  active ;  at  another,  it  may 
be  entirely  dormant.  The  reasoning  and  inductive  faculty  in  some  dreams  is  intelligently  and 
earnestly  alive,  while  in  others  there  are  no  indications  of  the  exercise  or  activity  of  either. 

§  318.  The  representative  power  of  the  soul,  as  has  already  been  said,  is 
The  representa-  that  which  is  especially  prominent  in  sleep.  The  law  or  force  under  whicl 
Bleep  power  l  it  acts  has  already  been  explained  as  the  tendency  of  the  soul  to  act  more 

readily  a  second  time  in  forms  and  with  objects  which  have  previously  occu 
pied  its  energies.  This  tendency  or  force  needs  only  to  be  supposed  to  be  exerted  without 
Ihe  regulating  or  dividing  presence  of  the  other  faculties,  in  order  to  account  for  its  greatei 


§320.  EEPKESENTATTCXN". — THE   PHANTASY.  335 

apparent  energy.  This  energy  need  be  relative  only,  and  not  absolute,  in  order  to  seem  to  b€ 
greater,  when.,  in  fact,  the  tone  of  the  soul,  in  all  its  faculties  and  activities,  may  be  weaker 
than  in  wakefulness.  That  it  is  the  one  power  in  which  this  energy  is  chiefly  expended, 
whether  it  is  greater  or  less,  is  so  obvious  as  to  be  undisputed  and  unquestioned. 

All  the  so-called  laws  of  association  control  the  production  and  presence  of  the  objecta 
that  make  up  the  image-world  of  the  dreamer.  These  objects  are  sometimes  recalled  undei 
the  relations  of  time  and  space,  in  succession  or  co-existence.  Sometimes  the  relations  of 
likeness  or  unlikeness  control ;  at  others,  those  of  cause  and  effect.  Very  often,  all  these 
relations  must  be  resorted  to,  to  account  for  the  presence  of  the  various  objects  of  which  a 
single  dream  is  composed. 

This  force  acts,  as  we  know,  out  of  consciousness ;  and  its  energy  and  the  grounds  of  it 
can  only  be  known  by  its  effects,  in  the  actual  emergence  of  objects  to  the  mind's  apprehen- 
sion. If  it  operates  with  but  little  interference  from  the  directive  or  rational  energies,  we  should 
expect  that  its  actings  would  be  unlike  those  of  the  regulated  imagination  or  the  regulated 
memory,  for  the  reasons  already  given.  That  this  is  emphatically  true  of  the  images  in  the 
dream-world,  is  confessed  by  all. 

§  319.  This  comparative  irregularity  and  capriciousness  pertains  to  the  order 
IB  irregular  and  in  which  these  objects  are  presented  to  the  mind.  When  the  wakeful  soul 
capncic  •  .g  mtenj.  Qn  recauing  8Ome  object  to  memory,  all  the  operations  of  the  repre- 

sentative power  are  controlled  by  this  prevailing  purpose.  The  multitude  of 
varied  objects  which  are  presented  by  the  associating  power,  are  entertained  or  thrust  aside 
by  the  judging  and  reasoning  intellect,  and  so  an  order  of  their  relative  value  is  secured  to 
the  objects  themselves  by  the  mind's  reaction  upon  them.  Even  if  the  mind  gives  itself  up 
to  reverie,  it  is  constantly  awake,  or  ready  to  be  awake,  to  the  suggestions  of  reason,  of  use, 
of  beauty,  or  of  rectitude.  There  are  attendant  processes  of  judgment  even  here,  which  are 
constantly  discriminating  between  the  true  and  the  false,  which  judgments  must  direct  the 
order  of  the  re-presentations. 

There  is  also  the  rationalizing  and  sobering  presence  of  the  material  world,  with  its  ob- 
trusive realities  that  cannot  be  mistaken ;  its  permanent  attributes,  that  cannot  be  changed ; 
its  eternal  and  superior  laws,  that  can  neither  be  resisted  nor  set  aside.  The  perpetual  pres- 
ence of  this  fixed  and  orderly  body  of  facts  and  truths,  of  itself  gives  reason  and  order  to  the 
fancies  which  it  must  in  part  control  and  regulate. 

But  in  dreams  there  is  an  absence  of  judgments,  or  the  judgments  are  false,  and  the 
stream  of  images  flows  on,  under  the  joint  impulses  given  it  by  the  energies  of  the  mind's 
previous  activity  and  the  force  of  casual  mental  or  bodily  suggestions.  The  material  world  is 
withdrawn  from  the  mind's  cognizance  as  an  apprehended  fact ;  it  is  as  though  it  were  not, 
and  never  had  existed. 

§  320.  The  mind's  interpretations  of  the  images  of  fancy,  and  even  of  its 
The  judgments  bodily  sensations,  are  also  false  and  irrational.  First  of  all,  it  judges  the 
^d?6^WTiy  ?am  image-world  to  be  a  real  world.  How  this  is  possible,  it  is  not  so  easy  to 
explain  ;  that  it  is  a  fact,  cannot  be  doubted.  The  only  plausible  explanation 
which  can  be  attempted,  must  be  derived  from  our  previous  analysis  of  the  process  of  sense- 
perception.  This  analysis  showed  that  the  act  of  original  perception  is  a  judgment  of  di- 
versity— i,  e.,  of  the  ego  from  the  non-ego — involving  the  judgment  of  a  relation  to  space. 
The  acquired  perceptions  are  even  more  obviously  acts  of  judgment  under  which  one  sense- 
perception  is  taken  as  the  sign  of  another,  with  a  rapidity  that  is  inconceivable  and  usually 
with  a  certainty  that  cannot  be  shaken.  The  first  hint  or  sign  carries  the  mind  directly  to  a 
positive  inference,  if  the  original  datum  is  correctly  taken.  The  conditions  of  such  judgments 
in  both  cases  may  be  and  probably  are  sonce  effort  of  attention  involving  continuance  in  time. 
In  dreaming,  both  these  conditions  are  absent ;  there  is  no  effort  of  attention,  and  the  objecta 
Judged  are  not  detained  for  any  interval  of  time.  The  mind  is  preoccupied  by  the  action  of 


S36  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  321. 

the  representing  power  or  phantasy,  under  which  one  object  or  state  introduces  another ;  the 
first  one  impelling  the  second,  etc.,  so  rapidly  that  the  mind  cannot  discriminate  or  judge. 
Now,  the  first  impulse,  when  a  picture  is  presented  of  an  absent  reality,  is  to  believe  it  to  be 
real  when  there  is  no  ground  for  the  opposite  belief.  This  is  wisely  provided  in  the  constitu- 
tion of  man,  to  secure  all  those  actions  for  which  the  knowledge  or  the  thought  of  any  reality 
is  given.  The  mind,  in  dreaming,  yields  to  this  impulse.  The  sense-world  is  wholly  with- 
drawn,  or  but  feebly  indicated,  through  the  temporary  torpor  of  the  organs  of  sense  and  the 
cooperating  mind.  The  mind,  apprehending  no  real  world  with  which  to  contrast  and  judge  the 
imaginary,  uses  the  little  force  which  remains,  to  infer  that  the  products  of  its  shifting  phantasy 
are  themselves  realities.  They  are  believed  to  be  real,  for  they  excite  all  the  emotions  which 
the  realities  are  fitted  to  produce.  Delight  is  experienced  at  the  image  of  a  friend  believed  to 
be  present,  who  is  perhaps  far  distant,  or  long  removed  by  death.  Grief  is  felt  at  some  distress- 
ing  event  which  is  simply  pictured  by  the  phantasy.  The  mind  is  not  only  incapable  of  dig. 
criminating  the  real  from  the  fantastic,  but  it  interprets  the  real  to  be  itself  a  part  of  ita 
fantastic  world.  The  bodily  sensations  which  it  experiences,  the  sensations  of  cold  or  heat, 
of  oppression  in  the  stomach  or  the  heart,  and  pain  or  pleasure  in  any  part  of  the  body,  it 
misinterprets  in  some  fantastic  way.  Thus  Dr.  Gregory  relates  that,  having  occasion  to  apply 
a  bottle  of  hot  water  to  his  feet,  he  dreamed  that  he  was  walking  on  Mount  Etna,  and  found 
the  heat  insupportable.  A  person  suffering  from  a  blister  applied  to  his  head,  imagined  that 
he  was  scalped  by  a  party  of  Indians.  A  person  sleeping  in  damp  sheets,  dreamed  that  he 
was  dragged  through  a  stream.  By  leaving  the  knees  uncovered,  as  an  experiment,  the  dream 
was  produced  that  the  person  was  travelling  by  night  in  a  diligence.  Leaving  the  back  part 
of  the  head  uncovered,  the  same  person  dreamed  he  was  present  at  a  religious  ceremony  per- 
formed in  the  open  air.  The  smell  of  a  smoky  chamber  has  occasioned  frightful  dreams  of 
being  involved  in  conflagration.  The  scent  of  flowers  may  transport  the  dreamer  to  some 
enchanted  garden,  or  the  tones  of  music  may  surround  him  with  the  excitements  of  a  well- 
appointed  concert.  In  all  these  cases,  actual  sensations  are  first  interpreted  as  parts  of  the 
ideal  scene,  or  they  suggest  some  kindred  image,  which,  in  its  turn,  calls  up  a  succession  or 
series  of  pictures  taken  from  the  actual  experience  or  waking  imagination  of  the  dreamer, 
all  of  which  are  believed  to  be  realities.  It  is  more  or  less  distinctly  implied  by  these  errors, 
that  the  judgment  of  what  is  probable  or  possible  is  often  greatly  weakened,  or  entirely  set 
aside.  The  incongruous  combinations  are  made  of  forms  that  are  inconsistent  and  grotesque, 
and  events  that  are  antagonistic  and  incompatible.  Events  and  persons  very  far  removed  in 
time  and  very  widely  sundered  in  space,  are  brought  together  in  a  single  scene.  The  per- 
son or  scene  breaks  into  fragments,  and  takes  on  new,  incongruous,  and  motley  materials 
under  the  very  eye  of  the  mind,  without  any  shock  to  its  sense  of  propriety  or  probability. 
The  mind  receives  the  new  formation  without  being  disturbed  by  the  process  of  transition,  and 
at  once  accepts  the  new  to  be  as  truly  real  as  it  did  the  old.  The  causes  have  no  relation  nor 
proportion  to  the  effects,  and  the  effects  are  incapable  of  being  explained  by  their  causes  \ 
and  yet  the  two  are  connected  as  causes  and  effects  (cf.  Milton,  Par.  Lost,  B.  v.  100-118). 

§  321.  The  exercise  of  this  judgment  in  respect  to  the  higher  relations  of 
and  other  hThef  tnougllt  varies  very  greatly  in  the  energy  of  its  action,  and  the  perfec. 
functions,  in  tion  of  its  results.  There  are  many  cases  in  dreams  in  which  single  steps 

or  parts  of  a  series  of  steps  in  reasoning,  are  taken  surely  and  correctly,  while 
these  processes  are  entirely  disconnected  with  what  went  before  or  followed  after,  as  if  the 
rational  powers  had  resumed  for  a  single  instant  their  full  energy  of  function.  In  other  cases, 
the  reasoning  may  be  correct  and  the  data  may  be  false,  and  yet  the  falseness  of  the  data  may 
not  be  perceived.  In  still  other  cases,  the  data  may  be  correctly  discerned,  and  the  conclu- 
sions correctly  derived,  so  that  both  premises  and  reasoning  combine  to  a  valid  and  true 
conclusion.  Even  the  more  difficult  feats  of  the  invention  and  construction  of  the  materials  ol 
an  argument,  have  been  successfully  performed  in  dreams.  The  creations  of  poetry,  even  to  the 


§323.  REPRESENTATION. — THE   PHANTASY.  335 

selection  of  rhythmical  words,  the  composition  of  sermons  and  addresses,  have  been  oftea 
effected.  Difficult  problems  in  mathematics  have  been  solved  and  remembered ;  new  and 
Kigenious  theories  have  been  devised.  Happy  expedients  of  deliverance  from  practical  diffi- 
culties have  presented  themselves,  and  brought  relief  from  serious  embarrassments.  Tortini  ia 
said  to  have  composed  the  famous  Devil's  Sonata  from  the  materials  recalled  from  a  dream,  in 
which  the  devil  appeared  to  him,  and  challenged  him  to  a  trial  of  skill.  Mr.  S.  T.  Coleridge 
gives  a  detailed  account  of  the  composition  of  Kubla  Khan,  in  a  dream  suggested  by  reading 
an  account  of  the  hero  in  Pur  okas'  Pilgrimage,  a  portion  of  which  he  wrote  down  at  once, 
and  the  whole  of  which  was  distinctly  present  to  his  memory  when  he  first  awoke.  Dr. 
Franklin  informed  Cabanis,  that  in  dreams  he  saw  often  into  the  bearings  of  political  events 
which  baffled  him  when  awake.  Condorcet  would  leave  complicated  calculations  which  he 
could  not  resolve  when  awake,  to  be  taken  up  and  finished  while  he  was  dreaming.  In  Moritz, 
Magazin  zur  Erfahrungs-Seelen-Kunde,  vol.  v.  p.  59,  is  a  poem  composed  in  a  dream  by  Baron 
Seckendorf,  1784. 

In  all  examples  of  this  kind,  the  successful  exeicise  of  reasoning  and  invention  is  always 
iu  that  form  of  activity  to  which  the  person  is  familiarly  accustomed,  and  it  is  not  always  easy 
to  distinguish  between  the  suggestion  to  the  memory  of  what  had  been  previously  achieved  by 
a  man  when  awake,  and  an  original  act  of  the  mind  upon  the  data  brought  before  him  for  the 
first  time  in  his  dreams.  Trains  of  thought  often  repeated  by  habit,  have  often  the  semblance 
of  being  the  products  of  original  thinking  when  we  are  awake.  It  is  not  surprising  that  the 
same  should  happen  to  us  in  our  dreams.  It  must  always  be  true  that  the  results  of  practised 
skill  come  to  the  aid  of  the  dreamer,  to  facilitate  his  processes. 

§  322.  Consciousness  is  ordinarily  but  feebly  exercised  by  the  soul  in  its 
SHf-conscious-  dreams.  It  is  often  said  to  be  absent  altogether.  By  consciousness  is  under- 
ness  in  dreams.  stood  the  distinct  apprehension  of  the  psychical  states,  as  the  states  of  the 

individual  ego,  and  not  that  fleeting  knowledge  of  them  which  is  essential  to 
any  intellectual  activity.  It  is  Avhen  consciousness  acts  as  judgment,  and  recognizes  the  relations 
of  psychical  states,  that  its  results  remain  in  the  memory.  This  form  or  degree  of  consciousness 
is  usually  entirely  absent,  or  feebly  exercised  in  dreams.  The  reason  why  it  is  thus  feebly  put 
forth,  may  be  the  same  which  accounts  for  the  absence  of  judgment  hi  its  interpretations  of 
the  semblances  of  the  material  world.  Distinct  consciousness  requires  a  certain  continuance 
of  the  psychical  activity  of  which  we  are  conscious.  Each  psychical  state,  in  order  to  be  appre- 
hended as  existing  or  as  past,  must  continue  for  a  longer  period  than  is  allowed  by  the  hasty 
and  tumultuous  appearance  of  the  objects  of  the  uncontrolled  phantasy.  Even  if  these  objects 
are  apprehended  as  existing,  they  cannot,  for  a  similar  reason,  be  apprehended  as  belonging 
to  the  individual  experiencing  them.  The  thought  rarely  occurs  to  the  dreamer,  This  thought 
or  feeling  is  my  thought  or  my  feeling.  These  states  rush  by  too  rapidly  to  allow  him  to  think 
of  himself,  either  as  an  individual,  or  as  an  individual  who  has  previously  existed,  or  as  pos- 
sessed of  capacities  or  a  character  that  have  been  developed  or  matured  by  previous  training. 
None  of  these  processes  of  reflection  or  comparison  seem  compatible  with  the  objective  char- 
acter and  the  hurried  progress  of  ordinary  dreams.  In  such  states,  the  mind  is  eminently 
objective — it  is  occupied  by,  and,  as  it  were,  absorbed  in  the  images  which  the  phantasy  paint3 
and  unrolls  for  its  inspection.  Hence  it  follows  that  so  few  dreams  are  remembered,  and  that 
here  and  there  only  a  fragment  of  a  dream  comes  again  to  the  mind. 

§  323.  For  the  same  reason  the  estimates  of  time  are  so  extravagantly  and 
Estimates  of  even  ludicrously  erroneous.  In  our  dreams,  we  occupy  a  year  in  making  a 
time  in  dreams,  voyage ;  we  perform  a  journey,  we  witness  a  long  procession,  we  climb  a 

mountain,  and  yet  the  time  actually  expended  is  inconceivably  short.  The 
following  has  been  often  quoted  as  pertinent : 

The  recital  is  from  Count  Lavalette,  of  a  dream  which  be  had  when  imprisoned  under  sentence  of 
death.  "  One  night,  while  I  was  asleep,  the  clock  of  the  Palais  de  Justice  struck  twelve,  and  awoke  ma 


838  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  326 

I  heard  the  gate  open  to  relieve  the  sentry  ;  but  I  fel  asleep  again  immediately.  In  this  sleep  L  dreamed 
that  I  was  standing  in  the  Rue  St.  Honore,  at  the  corr.er  of  the  Hue  de  1'Echelle.  A  melancholy  darkness 
spread  around  me;  ail  was  still ;  nevertheless,  a  low  and  uncertain  sound  soon  arose.  All  of  a  sudden  J 
perceived  at  the  bottom  of  the  street,  and  advancing  towards  me,  a  troop  of  cavalry,  the  men  and  horses, 
however,  all  flayed.  This  horrible  troop  continued  passing  in  a  rapid  gallop,  and  casting  frightful  looks 
on  me.  Their  march,  I  thought,  continued  for  five  hours ;  and  they  were  followed  by  an  immense  numbei 
of  artillery- wagons,  full  of  bleeding  corpses  whose  limbs  still  quivered;  a  disgusting  smell  of  blood  and 
bitumen  choked  me.  At  length,  the  iron  gate  of  the  prison  shutting  with  great  force,  awoke  me  again.  I 
made  my  repeater  strike ;  it  was  no  more  than  midnight,  so  that  the  horrible  phantasmagoria  had  lasted 
no  more  than  two  or  three  minutes — that  is  to  say,  the  time  necessary  for  relieving  the  sentry  and  shutting 

the  gate The  cold  was  severe  and  the  watchword  short.    The  next  day,  the  torokev  confirmed  my 

calculations." 

These  erroneous  judgments  of  time  are  the  natural  and  necessary  consequences  of  mis. 
taking  the  phantasms  of  our  dreams  for  real  substances  and  events.  We  picture  to  ourselves 
the  incidents  of  a  voyage  or  a  journey.  We  turn  these  pictures  into  realities,  and  they  carry 
with  themselves  the  estimates  of  time  which  would  be  required  if  they  existed  or  occurred  in 
fact.  The  weakening  of  the  consciousness  of  the  accompanying  mental  states,  withdraws  any 
corrective  influences  which  would  be  furnished  by  the  more  distinct  apprehension  of  the  time 
required  for  these  psychical  states. 

§  324.  This  weakening  of  consciousness  will  serve  in  part,  to  answer  ques- 
Moral  resDosibil-  ^ions  concerning  our  moral  responsibility  for  the  feelings  or  actions  which 
ity  in  dreams.  we  allow  in  dreams.  In  general,  we  may  say  that,  in  dreams  we  have  no 

right  judgments  of  the  sense-world,  or  the  psychical  world,  or  our  own  indi- 
vidual states.  These  data  being  wrongly  assumed,  we  are  consequently  not  in  a  condition  to 
judge  rightly  of  what  we  ought  to  do  or  to  be.  We  cannot  properly  be  held  responsible  for 
any  so-called  actions  or  intentions.  We  sometimes  fancy  that  we  are  other  persons  than  our- 
selves.  In  such  a  case,  we  could  not  be  held  responsible  for  doing  what  might  be  appropriate 
to  others,  yet  is  not  to  ourselves.  Whether  there  is  any  proper  exercise  of  the  will  in  dreams, 
we  have  not  yet  considered. 

§  325.  The  activity  of  the  sensibilities  in  the  dreaming  state  requires  a 
The  emotional  moment's  consideration.  That  we  feel  in  our  dreams,  or  seem  to  feel,  will 
dr°eamsr.8  l  not  be  disputed.  If  we  believe  we  are  in  danger,  we  experience  terror  ;  if 

we  dream  that  we  are  safe  or  successful,  we  rejoice.  In  some  cases,  but  not 
usually,  the  fear  and  happiness  are  as  intense  and  as  real  as  when  we  are  awake.  In  other 
cases,  we  feel,  but  on  the  review  are  surprised  that  we  felt  no  more.  Our  joy  and  sorrow  are 
but  the  pale  counterfeits  of  waking  emotions.  The  intensity  of  the  emotions  depends  on  the 
strength  of  our  belief  and  the  time  of  its  continuance.  If  a  horrid  phantasm  or  blessed 
ghost  holds  the  attention  and  occupies  the  power  for  continuance,  so  that  the  answering  emotion 
is  aroused  and  intensified,  it  will  be  as  intense  and  energetic  as  in  the  wakeful  state.  But  if 
the  impression  be  momentary,  it  is  so  quickly  displaced,  that  the  emotion  is  weak,  and  the 
recollection  of  it  is  feeble. 

§  326.  Is  the  will  properly  active  at  all  during  our  dreams  ?  That  we  act, 
The  activity  of  as  well  as  know  and  feel,  is  obvious  from  experience.  We  seem  to  resist,  to 
dreams!"  l  strugg^e>  to  speak,  to  sing,  to  walk,  to  run,  etc.  We  strive  to  attend,  to 

remember,  to  contrive,  to  compose,  etc. ;  in  other  words,  we  seem  to  use  our 
mental  powers  under  some  directive  force  for  definite  objects.  Let  it  be  granted  that  ir 
proper  dreams,  as  distinguished  from  somnambulism,  we  cannot  move  the  body ;  it  does  not 
follow  that  we  make  no  effort,  or  that,  so  far  as  the  soul  is  concerned,  we  do  not  act  in  the 
ways  specified.  It  follows  that  the  conative,  or  impulsive  part  of  our  nature — the  capacities 
which  fit  for  action — are  employed  in  the  dreaming  state.  If  these  capacities  are  properly 
called  the  will,  then  we  use  the  will  in  dreaming. 

If  we  mean  by  the  will,  the  capacity  to  direct  the  impulses  by  a  rational  or  a  moral  pur- 
pose, it  is  equally  clear  that  the  will  is  entirely  dormant,  or,  at  best,  is  only  occasionally  01 


§328.  REPKESENTATION. THE   PHANTASY.  339 

feebly  active.  It  is  and  must  be  inactive,  because  the  appropriate  conditions  for  its  exercise 
are  absent.  The  reason  does  not  propose  a  distinct  end  which  the  mind  retains  in  view.  The 
reflective  consciousness  neither  forms  rules  nor  imposes  them.  The  will  cannot  act  as  t 
rational  or  moral  direction  when  these  essential  conditions  are  withdrawn. 

Dugald  Stewart  (Elements,  c.  v.,  p.  1,  §  5)  supposes  that  most  of  the  phenomena  of 
dream-existence  and  dream-activity  can  be  accounted  for  by  the  supposition  that  the  associ- 
ative power  operates  according  to  its  laws  without  the  direction  or  control  of  the  will.  Hig 
opinion,  stated  in  his  own  language,  is,  "  that  the  circumstances  which  discriminate  dreaming 
from  our  waking  thoughts,  are  such  as  must  necessarily  arise  from  the  suspension  of  the  in- 
fluence of  the  will."  This  position  he  illustrates  by  referring  to  the  most  striking  and  obvious 
of  dream-phenomena.  That  a  force  is  absent  which  concentrates  and  fixes  the  powers — here 
called  a  suspension  of  the  will — is  most  manifest.  But  is  this  a  cause,  or  a  result  ?  If  the 
suspension  of  the  will,  as  thus  defined,  is  a  nearly  universal  attendant  of  the  dreaming  state, 
can  we  or  can  we  not  account  for  the  suspension  itself?  Why  is  it  that  it  happens  invariably 
and  necessarily,  as  it  would  seem,  that  the  action  of  the  will  is  thus  suspended  ?  Might  it  be 
resumed,  or  ought  it  to  be  resumed,  at  any  time,  or  is  this  suspension  of  the  activity  of  the 
will  itself  the  necessary  result  of  those  peculiar  conditions  of  the  soul  which  are  connected  with 
sleep  ?  In  other  words,  is  not  the  predominance  of  the  vital  and  sensational  activities  over 
the  higher,  necessarily  involved  in  the  very  conception  of  sleep,  and  is  it  not  a  necessary  con- 
sequence of  what  we  call  the  connection  of  the  body  with  the  mind  ?  That  this  is  the  case, 
is  established  by  the  inductions  of  general  physiology,  and  confirmed  by  the  observations  of 
psychology.  The  more  or  less  complete  suspension  of  the  functions  of  the  will  must  be 
regarded  as  an  incident,  and  not  a  cause,  of  the  psychical  phenomena  of  the  dreaming  state. 
Somnambulism,  or  abnormal  sleep. 

§  327.  Sleep,  normally  experienced,  involves,  as  we  have  seen,  so  far  as  the 
Three  kinds  of  body  is  concerned,  the  entire  inactivity  of  the  organs  of  sense,  and  the  en- 
somnambulism.  tire  absence  of  control  over  the  organs  of  sense  and  locomotion.  So  far  as 

the  mind  is  concerned,  the  powers  of  sense-perception  are  inactive,  as  well 
as  those  of  continuous  and  rational  thought,  and  the  representative  power  principally  engrosses 
the  energies  of  the  soul.  To  this  general  definition  there  are  not  infrequent  exceptions. 
Some  of  the  sense-perceptions  are  at  times  more  or  less  active,  and  the  soul  succeeds,  at 
times,  in  affecting  some  motions  of  the  body.  Of  these  exceptions  there  are  many  varieties 
in  respect  to  the  degree  of  the  affection  or  action,  and  the  proportion  in  which  one  power  is 
affected,  or  acts,  when  compared  with  another  power. 

Somnambulism  assumes  three  forms,  jvlrich  have  certain  features  or  phenomena  in  com- 
mon,  but  which,  in  certain  respects,  are  unlike.  These  forms  are  the  natural,  the  morbid,  and 
the  artificial.  The  natural,  is  that" which  occurs  in  ordinary  sleep.  The  morbid,  is  an  incident 
or  phase  of  active  disease  of  body  or  mind.  The  artificial,  is  induced  by  the  instrumentality 
of  another  person.  Each  of  these  forms  or  manifestations  is  subdivided  into  varieties,  which 
pass  into  one  another  by  scarcely  distinguishable  shades  of  difference. 

§  328.  Natural  somnambulism  is  distinguished  from  normal  sleep  by  th« 
Natural  som-  special  sensibility  of  a  part — generally  some  one  of  the  organs  of  sense — 
finecLU  an^  kv  special  activity  in  the  use  of  some  of  the  organs  of  bodily  motion. 

The  appellation,  sleep-walking,  is.  derived  from  the  act  of  walking  in  sleep, 
which  occurs  more  frequently  than  any  other,  for  obvious  reasons.  It  is  essential  to  many 
more.  A  person  reclining,  must  walk  to  reach  the  place  where  he  desires  to  be.  This  often 
attracts  the  attention  of  friends,  and  occasions  alarm.  It  is  taken  as  representing  many  actions, 
as  writing,  talking,  singing,  spinning,  playing  on  a  musical  instrument,  and  hence  is  applied  as 
a  general  term  to  denote  them  all,  and  others  like  them,  as  well  as  that  condition  of  body  and 
of  mind  in  which  these  actions  are  conspicuous. 

A  multitude  of  examples  of  natural  somnambulism  are  recorded,  each  of  which  is  distinguished  bj 


840  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT  §  33  t 

some  special  features  of  interest.  One  only  will  serve  for  many.  "  A  young  nobleman  mentioned  oy 
Horstius,  living  in  the  citadel  of  Breslau,  was  observed  by  his  brother,  who  occupied  the  same  room,  to 
rise  in  his  sleep,  wrap  himself  in  his  cloak,  and  escape  by  a  window  to  the  roof  of  a  building.  He  the;r« 
tore  in  pieces  a  magpie's  nest,  wrapped  the  young  birds  in  his  cloak,  returned  to  his  apartment,  and  went 
to  bed.  In  the  morning  he  mentioned  the  circumstances  as  having  occurred  in  a  dream,  and  could  not  b« 
persuaded  that  there  had  been  any  thing  more  than  a  dream,  till  he  was  shown  the  magpies  in  his  cloak.*1 
— Dr.  Abercrombie. 

The  activities  required  in  this  case,  were  the  sense-perceptions  of  sight  to  direct  the  move- 
merits  and  the  active  control  of  the  legs  and  arms.  Sometimes  the  sense  of  smell  or  of 
hearing,  or  of  taste,  are  observed  to  be  unusually  acute.  The  use  of  the  voice  is  often  ob- 
served. The  mental  powers  are  often  excited  with  great  energy,  continuity,  and  success. 
Persons  in  the  somnarabulic  state  will  recite  passages  from  authors  even  in  a  foreign  lan» 
guage,  which  they  could  not  repeat  when  awake.  Those  who  are  imperfectly  proficient  in  a 
language  converse  with  far  greater  ease  and  correctness  than  they  have  ever  been  known  to 
do  in  the  normal  condition.  Some  remarkable  compositions  have  been  written,  and  eloquent 
discourses  have  been  spoken,  which  were  quite  beyond  the  ordinary  capacities  of  the  indi 
viduals  from  whom  they  came. 

§  329.  In  the  magnetic,  or  morbid  somnambulism,  such  extraordinary  mental 
Ma  netic  som-  Power  nas  often  been  observed  as  to  be  ascribed  to  inspiration  from  another 
rambulism.  mind,  or  to  some  miraculous  deviation  from  the  laws  of  nature.  The  subject 

has  been  supposed  to  discover  the  causes  or  seat  of  his  own  disease  in  some 
internal  organ,  and  to  be  invested  with  some  special  sense,  or  endowed  with  supernatural 
insight  by  which  to  apprehend  his  internal  condition.  He  has  often  shown  rare  sagacity  iu 
discerning  characters  and  interpreting  events.  He  has  surprised  his  intimate  friends  by  the 
wisdom  and  aptness  of  his  replies  to  different  questions.  He  has  been  thought  to  foretell 
future  events  concerning  himself  and  others ;  to  have  visions  of  such  events  by  a  super- 
natural inspiration  or  insight. 

The  ordinary,  and  the  magnetic  or  exstatic  somnambulism,  differ  from  each 
The  natural  and  other,  in  that  the  ordinary  is  preceded  and  followed  by  ordinary  slumber, 

while  the  exstatic  comes  upon  the  patient  and  leaves  him  at  once,  usually  in 

a  condition  of  extreme  disease.  In  their  psychological  features,  the  two 
forms  01  this  affection  may  be  considered  as  alike,  differing  only  in  the  greater  intensity  of 
pome  of  their  manifestations.  Both  are  also  exaltations  of  phenomena  which  are  occasionally 
exhibited  in  common  dreaming  and  sleep. 

§  330.  All  these  conditions  of  the  soul  may  be  said  to  be  abnormal,  and 
tested  by  dis-  even  morbid.  For  disease  showf  itself  by  the  disturbance  of  the  equilib- 
hbrriu^thofe(the  rium  of  tne  several  powers  of  an  organism,  as  truly  as  by  the  weakening  of 
powers.  tne  energy  of  the  whole  or  of  any  of  the  parts.  A  disturbance  of  the  bal- 

anced or  harmonious  action  of  these  powers  may  be  manifested  as  strikingly  by  the  excessive 
and  surprising  energy  of  a  power,  as  by  its  failure  to  perform  its  ordinary  functions  with  their 
usual  force.  In  somnambulism,  both  these  conditions  are  exhibited ;  great  strength  in  some 
powers  and  achievements,  and  surprising  weakness  in  others.  The  manifestations  of  energy 
are,  however,  so  surprising  as  to  engross  the  attention  and  to  withdraw  it  from  noticing  the 
attendant  weakness.  The  observer  is  often  so  astonished  by  the  indications  of  power  as  to 
lose  sight  of  the  signs  of  limitation  and  weakness.  He  forgets  that  these  feats  of  knowledge 
and  skill,  which  seem  almost  to  be  inspired  or  supernatural,  are  more  than  counterbalanced  by 
ignorance  and  blundering. 

§  331.  In  all  forms  of  somnambulism,  the  representative  power  is  the  most 
Representation  prominently  and  conspicuously  active.  The  leading  objects  of  cognition  and 

feeling  are  the  mind's  own  creations.     The  man  lives  and  moves ;  he  feels 

and  acts  in  and  for  a  dream.  Dream-objects  are  taken  to  be  real  existences, 
tad  these  engross  and  absorb  the  chief  energies,  and  direct  to  many  of  the  actions.  But  the 


§333.  REPEESEJC'A.mON. THE   PHANTASY.  341 

dream  of  the  somnambulist  is  far  more  methodical  and  continuous  than  the  dream  of  ordinarj 
ileep.  The  mind  apparently  rests  upon  its  objects  for  a  longer  time,  and  gives  to  them  a  mow 
tixed  attention  than  it  does  to  the  phantasmagoria  of  the  common  dream.  Certainly  it  mus« 
do  both  of  these,  when  it  adapts  speech  and  motion  to  its  dream-world,  as  it  does  whenever  it 
is  prompted  to  speak,  and  walk,  and  lift,  and  write,  at  the  rate  required  by  its  phantasms.  W< 
are  aware  that  its  sense-perceptions  direct  the  motions  and  regulate  the  rate  of  many  of  its 
bodily  acts ;  but  it  were  a  serious  error  to  suppose  that  what  it  seems  to  see,  or  to  hear  bj 
the  ear,  makes  up  the  entire  world,  or  the  principal  part  of  the  world  in  which  the  mind  ha! 
its  being  and  performs  its  acts.  Besides  these  sense-objects,  there  is  a  multitude  besides, 
which  make  up  the  background,  and  the  foreground  even,  of  its  field  of  view.  In  the  case 
of  the  nobleman  cited,  in  all  his  movements  to  and  from  the  nest  of  magpies,  his  thoughts 
were  occupied  with  many  phantasms  which  he  considered  real,  and  with  reference  to  which  he 
performed  the  actions  recited.  These  formed  the  connecting  members  and  the  accompanying 
scenery  of  the  sense-objects  which  he  perceived.  The  fact  that  sense-objects  were  blended 
with  them,  served  to  steady  and  retard  the  progress  of  the  dream,  and  thus  to  make  it  regular 
and  methodical.  The  feats  which  the  far  "y  performs,  its  power  of  memory,  its  skill  in  in- 
vention, and  its  resources  of  creation,  are  only  the  natural  results  of  concentrated  attention 
upon  a  few,  and  these  connected  objects.  These  feats  are,  in  considerable  measure,  accounted 
for  by  that  dependence  on  certain  conditions  of  the  body,  and  the  sensations  which  they  give, 
which  we  have  already  discussed  in  treating  of  memory  and  association.  The  morbid  excite- 
ment of  some  parts  of  the  sensorium  and  the  nervous  system,  may  quicken  all  the  energies 
of  representation,  not  only  by  facilitating  concentration,  but  by  bringing  back  the  subjective 
bodily  sensations  which  are  the  most  fertile  and  ready  suggestors  of  fluent  images  and  words. 
But  this  exaltation  of  the  fancy  is  purchased  at  the  cust  of  its  being  limited  to  but  few  ob- 
jects— to  single  and  spontaneous  trains  of  thought  running  in  the  courses  started  and  traced  by 
the  muscular  and  vital  sensations,  or  the  few  sense-objects  to  which  the  excited  senses  are  awake. 
Some  of  the  §  ^^'  ^e  Powers  °^  sense-perception,  so  far  as  they  are  exerted  at  all,  act 
sense  -  percep-  with  surprising  energy  and  effect.  It  is  not  only  a  surprising  thing  that  they 
surprising  should  act  at  all  in  so  profound  a  sleep ;  but  that  the  organ  should  be  more 

sensitive  and  the  mind  more  acute  than  in  the  normal  condition,  is  still  more 
remarkable.  But  this  is  often  observed  in  the  somnambulist.  The  objects  seen  are.  often  seen 
'by  the  faintest  light,  and  yet  they  are  seen  most  clearly,  because  actions  requiring  acute  vision 
of  these  objects  are  performed  with  precision  and  success.  The  touch  must  be  acute,  or  the 
somnambulist  could  not  walk  so  confidently  in  difficult  and  dangerous  places,  nor  avoid  obsta- 
cles so  dexterously,  nor  perform  so  many  nice  operations,  as  in  dexterously  writing  and  play- 
ing  on  instruments.  The  senses  of  smell  and  hearing  are  often  uncommonly  sensitive  to 
odors  and  sounds. 

§  333.  The  question  has  sometimes  been  raised,  Whether  the  somnambulist 
nambul?st  Spe?-  reallv  perceives  with  the  senses  ?  It  has  been  argued  that  he  does  not,  be- 
ceive  at  all  with  cause  he  also  dreams,  and  because  his  dreams  furnish  the  greater  number  of 

the  objects  of  his  knowledge  and  feeling.  It  has  been  inferred  that,  when  he 
eeems  to  perceive,  he  only  dreams,  and  that  what  seem  to  be  the  objects  of  his  sonse-pereep. 
tions,  serve,  through  the  sense-organs,  to  form  a  part  of  the  dreams  in  which  alone  he  knowg 
and  feels.  To  this  it  is  sufficient  to  reply  that  he  certainly  acts  with  reference  to  the  real 
world,  and  that  he  really  acts — i.  e.,  directs  the  motions  of  his  legs  and  arms,  and  uses  and 
modulates  his  voice.  So  far  at  least  as  he  acts  he  must  have  real  sensations.  What  interpre- 
tation he  puts  upon  wuat  seem  to  be  his  sense-perceptions,  is  another  question.  His  dream- 
objects  he  believes  to  be  realities  and  sense-realities.  It  would  seem,  then,  that,  instead 
of  turning  the  sense-perceptions  into  a  dream,  he  exalts  dream-objects  into  sense-percep- 
tions, and  thus  causes  both  to  blend  into  a  consistent  whole.  The  weakness  of  his  judgment 
consists  in  this,  that  he  does  not  distinguish  between  the.  dream  and  the  reality  ;  but  this  doe* 
not  prove  that  he  does  not  truly  perceive  the  real  object*  which  address  his  senses 


342  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §334 

But  while  the  senses  are  cften  surprisingly  acute,  they  ire  botL  limited  and 
cepdon^thpugh  uncertain  in  their  operation  and  in  their  results.  The  somnambulist  sees  siw 
acute,  are  limit-  prigfogiy^  but  he  sees  only  certain  objects  that  are  present  to  his  bodily  vision 


He  does  not  see  every  thing  in  the  apartment  in  which  he  is  present,  bul 
only  the  table,  or  chairs,  or  the  paper  on  which  he  writes,  or  the  candle  which  he  holds. 
Those  objects  which  have  some  relation  to  his  thoughts  and  actions  are  the  only  objects  to 
which  he  is  sensitively  alive.  There  may  be  twenty  persons  before  his  eyes,  but  he  will  not 
notice  them.  If  he  comes  very  near  them,  or  they  stand  in  his  way,  he  may  see  enough  of 
the  objects  to  know  that  he  must  avoid  them  —  i.  e.,  he  may  see  them  in  their  relations  to  his  own 
thoughts  and  actions,  but  he  does  not  know  them  as  persons,  nor  recognize  them  as  friends, 
So,  too,  he  hears  those  sounds  only  which  have  some  concern  with  himself.  If  a  friend  ad- 
dresses  him  in  words  that  have  no  relation  to  his  dream,  he  will  not  even  hear  the  sounds  ; 
but,  if  these  words  respect  his  thoughts  and  actions,  he  hears  acutely.  The  same  is  true  of 
smells  and  tastes.  It  is  also  noticed,  that  only  a  single  sense  at  a  time  seems  to  be  active, 
according  as  it  is  required.  As  soon  as  the  stimulus  or  occasion  passes  by,  it  is  no  longer 
awake,  but  relapses  into  entire  insensibility. 

The  various  observations  that  have  been  made,  warrant  the  induction  that  the  phantasy 
stimulates  and  awakens  the  organ  of  sense,  and  determines  the  mind  to  use  it  with  wakeful 
attention.  It  is  the  soul  itself  that  quickens  the  organ  thus  made  ready  by  disease  or  weak- 
ness  for  this  extraordinary  activity,  to  that  momentary  excitement  which  is  required  to  fasten 
the  mind  to  its  monitions.  That  the  soul,  as  phantasy,  can  give  additional  energy  to  an  organ 
of  sense,  and,  so  to  speak,  prepare  it  for  both  sense-perception  and  action,  has  been  already 
shown.  The  apparatus  needs  only  to  become  abnormally  or  morbidly  sensitive  to  the  percep- 
tion of  sense-objects  —  i.  e.  to  be  prepared  when  held  to  its  work  by  the  fixed  phantasy—  to 
account  for  the  extraordinary  results  of  sense-activity  which  so  greatly  surprise  us  in  the 
various  modes  and  degrees  of  somnambulism. 

This  extraordinary  exaltation  of  single  senses  is  not  without  its  analoga  in 
nary  ^cotenesB  the  wake^ul  and  normal  conditions  of  the  soul.  There  are  occasions  when, 
not  without  owing  to  organic  excitement,  a  single  sense  becomes  painfully  acute  and 

sensitive.  The  concentration  of  the  attention  follows  as  a  natural  conse- 
quence. If  the  attention  is  fixed  from  a  merely  awakened  interest  without  any  quickening 
of  the  organ,  whether  this  is  constant  or  occasional,  the  results  are  equally  surprising.  So  • 
surprising  is  it,  that  the  vision  of  the  sailor,  the  lacemaker,  the  horologist,  the  hearing  of  the 
sentinel  and  the  hunter,  the  touch  of  the  blind,  the  machinist,  and  the  musician,  seem  to  the 
stranger  to  be  something  almost  supernatural.  The  still  higher  exaltation  of  these  sense- 
powers,  in  the  case  of  the  somnambulist,  is  on  the  same  ascending  line  with  these  natural 
variations.  It  is  only  extraordinary  in  degree,  as  the  circumstances  are  extraordinary  in  their 
feature  and  combination. 

the  s  §  334'  We  come  next  to  a  subJect  8ti11  more  interesting,  and,  at  first  sight, 
nambulist  have  more  puzzling,  viz.,  the  apparent  increased  excitement  of  intellectual  power 
tfons  "^without  as  manifested  in  achievements  performed  by  somnambulists,  particularly  when 
the  sense-or-  in  the  mesmeric  or  exstatic  conditions.  The  first  which  we  shall  consider  is 

the  claim  for  him  of  the  ability  to  perceive  material  qualities  and  objects 
without  the  medium  of  the  organs  of  sense.  For  example  :  it  is  claimed  that  he  can  see  near 
objects  through  the  thickest  bandage,  and  with  the  back  of  the  head  ;  that  he  can  hear  by  the 
epigastrium,  etc.,  etc.  It  is  even  asserted  that  he  can  see  objects  a  thousand  miles  distant,  and 
through  the  closest  and  thickest  walls,  and  into  the  darkest  and  deepest  caverns,  etc.,  etc. 

In  respect  to  the  first  claim,  that  near  objects  can  be  seen  or  heard  inde- 
First  of  near  Pendently  of  tne  ear  and  tne  eye>  we  need  onty  ODServe  tnat>  provided  many 
objects.  of  the  stories  are  neither  false  nor  exaggerated,  not  one  of  them  proves  that 

the  mind  can  have  sense-perceptions  independently  of  the  nervous  organism. 
If  the  story  be  received  as  true,  that  the  person  has  seen  (not  remembered  nor  conjectured] 


§334.  KEPKESENTATION, — THE   PHANTASY.  343 

through  an  interposed  bandage  or  by  the  back  of  the  head,  it  would  Btill  be  true  tLat  the 
optic  nerve  and  the  retina  might  be  so  morbidly  sensitive  as  to  be  affected  by  the  light,  even 
if  the  eyelids  were  closed  or  thickly  covered.  No  fact  is  more  clearly  established  than  thatv 
within  certain  limits,  one  part  of  the  sensorium,  or  portion  of  a  single  system  of  nerves,  can. 
under  extraordinary  excitement,  perform  the  functions  of  another.  If  the  theory  be  accepted, 
now  so  current,  that  the  various  sensible  qualities  are  manifested  as  modes  and  rates  of  motion, 
it  would  follow  that  the  response  of  the  sensorium  is  by  answering  rates  of  motion.  If  th« 
retina  and  optic  nerves  were  so  sensitive  as  to  respond  to  these  motions  or  the  moving  force 
which  we  call  light,  it  might  make  no  difference  whether  this  agent  were  responded  to  through 
the  eye  directly  or  indirectly,  provided  that  the  retina  and  optic  apparatus  were  efficiently 
reached  and  suitably  affected.  Some  analoga  to  these  supposed  phenomena  are  found  in  the 
so-called  subjective  sensations,  which  are  occasioned  by  the  direct  excitement  of  the  nerves  by 
other  media  than  light,  food,  odorous  substances,  etc.  It  is  also  to  be  remembered,  that  the 
sense-perception  is  not  complete  in  any  case  till  the  intellect  has  interpreted  the  reports  of 
sense.  How  far  the  mind,  in  the  extraordinary  exaltation  of  the  somnambulic  state,  can  pro- 
ceed in  such  a  case  by  feebler  reports  than  those  ordinarily  furnished,  it  is  not  easy  to  decide. 

The  second  claim  is  of  a  power  to  see  distant  objects  which  no  sense-power 
Second  of  ob-  can  reacn>  or  objects  immured  in  total  darkness  behind  thick  and  solid  walls, 
jects  remote.  Such  a  power,  or  its  exercise,  can  be  explained  by  no  known  powers  or  lawa 

of  Nature.  There  is  nothing  analogous  to  its  possession  or  its  exercise  in 
any  thing  which  we  know  in  the  normal  actings  of  the  soul-.  Whatever  the  power  may  be 
which  acts  in  this  way,  it  is  not  vision.  The  person  does  not  see  the  object,  but  if  he  discerns 
any  thing,  it  is  a  phantasm,  an  image,  or  series  of  images  which  are  purely  mental.  If  there 
be  any  thing  which  he  apprehends,  it  is  a  mental  object,  the  production  of  his  own  soul.  It 
exists  while  he  beholds  it,  within  ard  for  his  soul  alone.  If  the  object  or  scene  has  never 
been  the  object  of  his  personal  inspection,  the  pictures  which  he  forms  of  it  must  be  taken 
from  materials  within  his  own  observation,  or  imparted  by  description.  If  it  be  the  city  of 
Pekin,  or  the  Himalaya  mountains,  the  picture  is  composed  either  of  fragments  of  what  he 
has  seen  of  New  York  or  Boston,  of  London  or  Paris,  or  the  mountains  of  America,  Europe, 
or  else  from  some  drawings  or  paintings  of  the  cities  or  mountains  themselves.  If  it  should 
be  claimed  or  proved  that  the  picture  or  scene  is  original  and  yet  corrresponds  to  a  real 
object  or  objects,  then  the  correspondence  must  be  explained  by  laws  and  principles  which  are 
unknown  to  the  psychology  of  the  soul's  normal  activities.  Whether  such  a  correspondence 
has  ever  been  established  in  fact,  we  will  not  here  discuss. 

The  third  claim  for  the  soul,  of  a  power  to  understand  its  own  bodily  dis- 
Third,  of  the  orders,  as  to  their  seat  or  cure,  may  be  explained  in  part  by  the  fact  that 
interior  \  ^  sufferer  in  the  somnambulic  state  is  far  more  keenly  alive  than  when 

awake,  to  his  own  bodily  sensations.  If  an  organ  is  diseased,  the  disease  will 
often  be  manifest  by  means  of  sensations  which  are  prominent  and  unmistakable  in  the  soul'a 
experience.  These  are  the  data  for  its  interpretations  or  inferences.  The  disease  may  have 
been  an  object  of  intense  anxiety  and  earnest  inquiry.  He  may  have  more  or  less  knowledge 
of  the  anatomical  structure  and  the  natural  and  diseased  functions  of  many  of  the  organs. 
If  his  attention  is  directed  to  certain  sensations  that  are  made  very  positive  and  intense  by  hia 
abnormal  sleep,  and  his  intellect  is  sharpened  to  divine  their  seat  or  their  cure,  it  would  not 
be  surprising  if  the  person  should  sometimes  be  successful  in  his  conjectures  and  prescriptions. 
In  all  these  cases  the  thoughts  and  conversation  of  the  person,  if  not  his  studies,  will  have 
been  occupied  with  different  affections  of  the  several  organs,  their  signs  and  cures,  so  that, 
in  a  certain  sense,  he  has  become  a  student  of  medicine,  though  not  scientifically  trained.  It 
will  always  be  found  to  be  true,  in  such  cases,  that  the  insight  of  the  somnambulist  in  respect 
to  the  names  of  the  organs  and  their  functions,  does  not  go  a  step  beyond  what  he  has  learned 
by  conversation  or  reading.  Let  him  be  ever  so  gifted,  he  will  not  learn  the  nature  or  the 
name  of  a  single  organ,  or  its  office,  or  a  single  remedy,  which  has  not  been  made  knowr 


344  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §335. 

to  him  in  wakefulness  and  health.     If  this  is  so,  the  case  is  reduced  to  extraordinary  sagacity 
exercised  upon  data  or  knowledge  communicated  or  impressed  in  an  extraordinary  manner. 

The  claim  that  the  somnambulist  can  see  into  the  condition  of  the  body  of  another,  hai 
already  been  considered. 

§  335.    Fourth,  the  exaltation  of  the  higher  intellect  to  the  capacity  to  per< 
forra  some  verv  extraordinary  achievements,  remains  to  be  considered.     Thia 


intellectual    ac-     is  much  more  remarkable  in  the  morbid  than  in  the  natural  somnambulism. 

The  somnambulist  sometimes  displays  great  acuteness  of  judgment.  He  sees 
resemblances  and  differences  which  had  not  occurred  to  him  in  his  waking  states,  and  which 
astonish  lookers-on.  He  is  quick  in  repartee  ;  solves  difficult  problems  ;  he  composes  and 
speaks  with  method  and  effect  ;  he  reasons  acutely  ;  he  interprets  character  with  rare  subtlety  ; 
he  understands  passing  events  with  unusual  insight  ;  he  predicts  those  which  are  to  come  by 
skilful  forecast.  In  the  eyes  of  the  persons  who  have  known  him  in  his  waking  condition,  he 
appears  to  be  another  person,  endowed  with  new  gifts,  or  quickened  by  some  extraordinary 
inspiration.  How  are  those  phenomena  to  be  explained  ? 

We  reply  :  By  the  excitement  of  the  intellect  from  an  intense  interest  in  the 
His  attention  is  subject-matter  with  which  it  is  occupied,  the  concentration  of  the  attention 
concentrated.  for  a  long  time  upon  a  few  objects  only  and  a  few  of  their  relations,  and  the 

previous  familiarity  of  the  mind  with  these  objects  and  relations.  That  the 
mind  occasionally  acts  with  energy  when  in  the  dream-state,  even  in  its  highest  functions,  haa 
already  been  noticed.  That,  when  it  thinks  and  reasons  in  somnambulism,  it  is  animated  by 
strong  excitement  arising  from  a  strong  interest  in  the  subject-matter,  is  obvious  to  all,  and 
will  not  be  questioned.  So  warm  is  the  interest,  that,  at  times,  the  subject  of  it  seems  almost 
to  live  in  the  objects  and  thoughts  which  occupy  him.  All  his  energy  of  feeling  is  elicited 
by  them,  and,  of  consequence,  all  his  force  of  thought  is  devoted  to  them.  Such  concentra- 
tion, awakened  by  excitement,  is  often  the  one  condition  of  successful  effort.  If  it  can  be 
imparted  to  an  intellect  that  seemed  torpid  and  feeble,  it  imparts  to  it  new  energy  and  success. 
A  mind  once  thoroughly  aroused  is  furnished  with  triple  power. 

Next,  the  attention  is  concentrated  upon  objects  for  a  sufficient  length  of  time 
And  occupied  *°  secure  entire  familiarity  with  them  and  their  relations.  The  attention  of 
with  few  objects,  the  somnambulist  is  limited,  as  we  have  seen,  to  but  few  sense-objects.  To 

all  other  objects  except  those  which  excite  this  or  that  sense,  it  is  deaf 
and  blind.  The  phantasms  which  make  up  its  dream  are  but  few.  Upon  these  it  dwells,  and 
to  these  it  continually  returns,  till  they  become  altogether  familiar  in  all  the  few  aspects 
and  relations  which  concern  his  dream.  From  all  the  rest  of  the  world  he  is  shut  out,  being 
held  for  continuance  to  this  limited  field  of  view,  and  detained  before  it  by  the  sense-objects 
to  which  his  dream  is  related. 

Last  of  all,  the  sense-objects  and  the  dream-objects  are  ordinarily  very  fainil- 
Also  -with  famil-  *ar*  They  have  previously  been  the  frequent  object  of  thought  and  specula- 
iar  objects.  tion.  The  questions  for  which  he  finds  new  answers,  the  problems  for  which 

he  devises  new  solutions,  the  events  or  characters  upon  which  he  casts  a  new 
light,  are  not  for  the  first  time  before  his  mind.  The  operations  of  his  intellect  are  also  all  in 
the  line  of  his  previous  efforts  and  training.  The  somnambulist  does  not  for  the  first  time 
appear  as  a  mathematician,  poet,  orator,  politician,  or  divine  ;  nor  does  he  display  activities 
which  have  not  been  in  their  quality  and  kind,  though  not  in  degree,  familiar  to  his  use.  Even 
the  very  subjects  upon  which  he  displays  extraordinary  wisdom  or  wit,  are  usually  known  to 
have  engaged  his  previous  thoughts,  and  to  have  received  earnest  and  frequent  attention.  This 
previous  thinking  has  prepared  him  to  discern  new  relations,  to  form  new  judgments,  or  to 
arrange  in  new  combinations  matter  that  had  already  been  familiar  to  his  thoughts.  It  is  not 
out  of  analogy  to  the  processes  and  laws  of  the  mind  in  the  waking  state,  that,  under  strong 
excitement,  with  necessarily  limited  attention  and  upon  familiar  objects,  it  should  rise  to  ex 
traordinary  achievements.  But  extraordinary  as  they  are,  their  very  extraordinary  charactef 


I  33  6.  REPRESENTATION.  -  THE   PHANTASY  345 

reveals  the  very  limitations  which  are  their  condition.     Its  triumphant  featt  are  not  onlj 
Bounterbalanced  by,  but  they  are  dependent  upon  degrading  and  limiting  concessions 

Moreover,  these  efforts  themselves  are  single  and  isolated  sallies  of  subtlety 
The  efforts  are  and  insight,  rather  than  sustained  and  connected  trains  of  judgment  and 
wicaMona  reasoning.  They  are  narrow  rather  than  comprehensive,  acute  rather  than 

far-reaching,  exceptional  rather  than  uniform,  surprising  rather  than  trust- 
worthy. Whatever  may  be  their  rank  as  evidences  of  genius,  or  their  value  when  used  bj 
another  mind,  they  avail  little  or  nothing  to  the  person  himself  for  his  future  use  and  guidance 
because  they  are  not  connected  with  his  previous  thoughts  or  his  permanent  acquisitions. 

The  gift  of  divination,  or  prophecy,  which  is  claimed  for  the  somnambulist, 
The  power  of  whenever  it  deserves  consideration,  is  explained  in  part  by  the  extraordinary 
prophecy?  L  sagacity  which  is  developed  in  respect  to  subjects  that  are  interesting  and 

familiar  to  the  mind.  The  somnambulist  forecasts  or  prophesies,  by  reason- 
ing upon  the  evidences  before  him.  His  attention  being  fixed  and  his  interest  being  aroused, 
he  applies  his  intellectual  force  to  the  subjects  before  him,  and  shows  the  same  sagacity  in 
foreseeing  future  results  that  he  exhibits  in  interpreting  events  that  are  present  ;  by  the 
causes,  the  laws,  and  principles  that  are  concerned  in  bringing  them  to  pass.  Other  of  his 
conjectures  which  are  confirmed  by  the  results,  may  be  ascribed  to  accidental  coincidences  in 
cases  in  which  but  few  alternatives  were  possible.  Psychology  can  go  no  further  in  explaining 
such  events  by  the  known  operations  and  laws  of  the  soul  of  man.  A  rational  philosophy 
does  not  deny  the  possibility  of  supernatural  aid  or  guidance  in  foresight  of  the  future,  when- 
ever there  is  worthy  occasion  for  such  interference  —  i.  t.,  whenever  there  is  an  end  sufficiently 
important  to  warrant  its  use.  But  it  forbids  the  belief  that  it  is  imparted  for  trivial  or  un- 
worthy objects,  or  on  common  occasions. 

One  or  two  other  features  common  to  all  the  varieties  of  somnambulism  remain  to  be  noticed. 

§  336.    First,  the  somnambulist,  when  he  wakes,  usually,  though  not  invari- 

*bl>'»  forgets  his  actions>  perceptions,  and  thoughts  during  sleep.     His  dream, 


gets  his  dream  with  all  that  it  involves,  is  to  him  an  empty  blank.  To  many,  this  seems 
incredible  ;  to  others,  it  is  an  insoluble  mystery.  That  it  is  not  incredible,  ia 
established  by  the  amount  of  decisive  evidence  which  is  adduced  of  its  actual  occurrence. 
That  it  is  not  inexplicable,  appears  from  analogous  phenomena  in  dream-life,  as  well  as  from 
the  dissimilarity  of  the  conditions  of  mental  activity  in  the  waking  and  the  somnambulic 
state.  The  dreams  of  the  profoundest  sleep  are  rarely  remembered,  for  the  reason  that  the 
bodily  condition,  with  all  the  sensations  which  it  involves,  is,  in  many  respects,  very  unlike 
that  which  attends  our  lighter  slumbers  and  our  waking  states.  The  sensations  which  accom- 
pany these  varying  conditions,  as  has  been  shown,  are  an  essential  element  in  our  mental 
experiences.  If  the  phantasy  is  active,  they  are  the  essential  conditions  of  its  activity  in  any 
determinate  direction.  For  this  reason,  these  bodily  sensations  direct  the  course  and  furnish 
the  occasions  fur  many  of  our  dreams.  But  in  somnambulism  these  sensations  are  more 
controlling  and  more  unique  than  in  any  other  dreaming  or  in  any  other  sleep.  Whatever 
else  there  may  be  which  awakens  and  directs  the  phantasy  is,  if  possible,  still  more  unlike 
any  other  experiences  of  wakefulness  or  sleep.  If  the  transition  from  ordinary  sleep  and 
ordinary  dreams  to  wakefulness  is  often  so  abrupt  and  complete  as,to  involve  entire  oblivion 
of  all  which  we  have  thought,  or  felt,  or  done,  it  is  less  surprising  that,  when  we  awake  from 
the  sleep  of  somnambulism,  whether  the  transition  be  sudden  or  gradual,  it  is  so  complete 
that  the  present  has  no  relation  to  the  past.  For  the  functions  of  memory  it  is  as  though  we 
bad  entered  a  new  world,  or  begun  a  new  existence.  Our  bodily  experiences,  the  objects 
which  we  discern,  the  feelings  which  we  experience,  and  the  acts  which  we  perform,  are  all  sr 
peculiar,  that  we  do  not  remember  our  own  selves.  We  do  not,  for  the  reason  that  what 
constitutes  ourselves  —  i.  «.,  our  experience  of  states  of  feeling  and  thought  —  in  the  two  cases> 
ia  great.)  y  unlike.  From  those  obscure  bodily  sensations  which  we  can  distinguish  or  define, 
up  to  the  most  obtrusive  objects  of  sense  and  consciousness,  with  the  imagery  of  phantas) 


346  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  338 

which  they  suggest,  the  springs  of  activity,  the  materials  for  feeling,  and  the  objects  of 
thought,  are  so  diverse,  that  the  man  in  the  one  condition,  does  not  remember  himself  in  the 
other. 

§  337.  These  considerations  both  explain  and  confirm  the  second  fact  that  has 
sometimes    been    observed,    viz.  :    that   the    somnambulist,  when  he  passes 


previous  som-  into  a  succeeding  condition  of  abnormal  activity,  remembers  the  experiences, 
nambuhc  state. 

and,  as  it  were,  remembers  the  self  of  the  preceding  states.     How  thia 

should  be  possible,  most  clearly  appears  from  the  principles  already  laid  down  :  The  objects 
of  thought  and  memory,  the  motives  and  directors  of  action  which  were  present  in  the 
previous  condition,  return  to  him  a  second  time,  and  they  bring  with  them  their  attendant 
experiences.  When  the  soul  passes  a  second  time  into  the  surroundings  of  his  abnormal 
being,  they  are  no  longer  strange,  but  he  recognizes  them  as  familiar,  and,  taking  up  ne^» 
threads  of  memory,  he  recalls  his  preceding  dream. 

Some  remarkable  instances  are  recorded  of  alternating  states,  in  each  of 
Capacity  for  al-  which  the  acquisitions,  the  capacities,  the  employments,  were  unlike  those 
ancTactmtites1.  eS  m  ^e  other,  and  yet,  as  the  similar  states  recurred  at  intervals,  they  were 

connected  by  continuity  of  memory. 

One  instance  is  described  as  follows  :  "  The  patient  was  a  young  lady  of  cultivated  mind,  and  the 
affection  began  with  an  attack  of  somnolency,  which  was  protracted  several  hours  beyond  the  usual  time. 
When  she  came  out  of  it,  she  was  found  to  have  lost  every  kind  of  acquired  knowledge.  She  immediately 
began  to  apply  herself  to  the  first  elements  of  education,  and  was  making  considerable  progress,  when,  after 
several  months,  she  was  seized  with  a  second  fit  of  somnolency.  She  was  now  at  once  restored  to  all  the 
knowledge  which  she  possessed  before  the  first  attack,  but  without  the  least  recollection  of  any  thing  that 
had  taken  place  during  the  interval.  After  another  interval,  she  had  a  third  attack  of  somnolency,  which 
left  her  in  the  same  state  as  after  the  first.  In  this  manner  she  suffered  these  alternate  conditions  for  a 
period  of  four  years,  with  the  very  remarkable  circumstance  that,  during  the  one  state,  she  retained  all  her 
original  knowledge  ;  but,  during  the  other,  that  only  which  she  had  acquired  since  the  first  attack.  During 
the  healthy  interval,  she  was  remarkable  for  the  beauty  of  her  penmanship,  but,  during  the  paroxysm, 
wrote  a  poor,  awkward  hand.  Persons  introduced  to  her  during  the  paroxysm,  she  recognized  only  in  a 
subsequent  paroxysm,  but  not  in  the  interval  ;  and  persons  whom  she  had  seen  for  the  first  time  during 
the  healthy  interval,  she  did  not  recognize  during  the  attack."  (Abercrombie,  Inquiries,  etc.,  p.  iii.  §  iv.) 

§  338.  Certain  peculiar  features  of  the  artificial  somnambulism  remain  to 
somnambu-  be  noticed.  Its  distinguishing  feature  is,  that  it  is  induced  by  the  inter- 


bthe  {ency  venti°u  °f  another  person,  who,  by  means  of  passes  or  other  appliances, 
of  another  per-  brings  the  subject  into  a  sleep  and  dream,  the  processes  and  objects  of 
which  ae  directs,  and  from  which  he  awakes  him  at  his  own  will.  Hence  it 
is  called  artificial,  as  effected  by  another,  in  distinction  from  the  natural,  which  is  induced  by 
ordinary  sleep,  and  the  morbid,  which  is  the  incident  of  active  disease.  It  is  also  called  the 
magnetic  sleep.  It  originally  received  this  appellation,  because  it  was  supposed  to  be  pro- 
duced by  a  magnetic  influence,  generated  by  or  attendant  upon  all  the  animal  functions.  This 
influence  was  supposed  to  be  generated  or  accumulated  in  some  persons  in  larger  quantities 
than  in  others,  and  to  be  emitted  by  them  at  their  will  in  such  a  way  as  to  affect  a  correspond- 
ent receptive  force  in  others,  who  are  thereby  subject  to  any  influence  which  is  emitted  from 
the  more  highly  magnetized  person.  The  influence  in  question  was  supposed  to  be  akin  to 
the  magnetic  force  which  pervades  the  earth,  and  inorganic  matter  generally.  The  appellation 
is  retained  by  those  who  do  not  receive  the  theory  on  which  it  was  originally  employed. 

Traces  of  this  doctrine  may  be  found  in  the  writings  of  Paracelsus.  It  was  received  also  by  the 
Rosecrucians,  favored  by  Goclenius,  Van  Helmont,  Robert  Fludd,  and  many  others. 

The  most  notorious  practitioner  of  the  art  in  modern  times  was  Mesmer,  who  expounded  the  doctrine 
sf  animal  magnetism  as  already  explained,  and  practised  it  with  abundant  apparatus,  designed  to  collect 
and  control  the  so-called  magnetic  influence  with  the  aid  also  of  many  appliances  addressed  to  the  imagin- 
ation, and  which  were  fitted  to  invest  his  person  and  his  processes  with  greater  mystery.  M.  de  Puysegur, 
following  Mesmer,  abandoned  the  use  of  magnets,  etc.,  and  relied  on  passes  or  motions  of  the  hand  to  pro* 
duce  the  so-called  magnetic  effects,  and  this  gave  the  new  form  to  the  practice  of  the  art  which  has  CVCT 
since  been  followed. 


§340.  KEPEESENTATION. THE   PHANTASY.  34* 

§  389  There  is  still  another  condition  called  hypnotism,  or  the  hjpnotie 
H  pnotism  ex-  state»  which  may  be  properly  called  the  artificial  sleep  as  distinguished  from 
plained.  the  artificial  somnambulism — i.  e.,  the  artificial  dream.  It  is  like  somnam- 

bulism, as  produced  by  the  agency  of  another,  and  as  being  under  the  control 
of  the  producing  agent.  The  connection  of  the  mind  of  the  operator  with  the  mind  and  the 
actions  of  the  subject,  is  not  so  manifest,  or  is  not  always  carried  so  far  as  is  claimed  for  the 
other.  It  is  however  so  like  it  in  every  essential  feature,  as  to  deserve  to  be  considered  as  at 
least  a  lower  degree  of  artificial  somnambulism. 

The  came  hypnotism  was  first  applied  to  this  state  by  James  Braid,  M.  D.,  etc.,  etc.,  a  distinguished 
physician,  ol'  Manchester,  England.  As  the  result  of  a  series  of  experiments  which  he  instituted  to  test  the 
doctrines  of  Reichenbach,  as  laid  down  in  his  Researches  on  Magnetism,  in  support  of  a  new  imponderable 
which  should  explain  the  phenomena  of  animal  magnetism,  Dr.  liraid  discovered  that  he  could  induce  ail 
artificial  sleep  upon  susceptible  patients,  by  fixing  the  attention  of  the  eye  upon  a  bright  object,  without 
the  instrumentality  of  passes.  This  sleep,  in  his  view,  is  the  result  of  a  congestion  of  the  organ  of  vision 
and  of  a  part  of  the  brain.  It  is  partial  only,  and  leaves  a  part  of  the  system  open  to  sensible  impressions,  so 
that  it  is  possible  Ibr  the  operator  to  maintain  some  communication  with  the  subject  of  it  by  words  and  signs. 
The  production  of  this  sleep,  and  the  processes  which  occur  while  it  is  going  forward,  are  considered  by  Dr. 
B.  as  examples  of  the  control  of  the  body  by  the  mind.  The  direction  of  the  attention  to  the  several  organa 
and  other  parts  of  the  body,  results :  first,  in  a  greater  excitement  of  their  normal  activity ;  second,  in 
illusions  of  sense-objects  when  the  attention  is  stimulated  by  the  imagination  of  the  subject  and  the  voice 
of  the  operator ;  third,  in  a  congestion  terminating  in  an  abnormal  sleep,  which  can  be  directed  and  con- 
trolled by  the  operator.  Dr.  B.  supposes  that,  as  the  result  of  long  practice,  this  sleep  may  be  voluntarily 
assumed  and  continued  for  several  days,  forming  what  he  calls  "  human  hybemation."  See  Hypnotism,  or 
Nervous  Sleep  considered  in  relation  with  Animal  Magnetism  or  Mesmerism  ;  also,  the  Power  of  the  Mind 
over  the  Body,  etc.,  etc.  See  also  Uelectro-dynamisme  vital,  par  J.  P.  Philips. 

For  the  purposes  which  we  have  in  view,  hypnotism  and  artificial  somnarn- 
How  related  to  ^u^sm  or  mesmerism,  may  be  considered  as  one.  The  states  so  designated 
somnambulism,  have  the  following  features :  Artificial  sleep ;  entire  or  total  insensibility  of 

some  of  the  sense-organs ;  an  unnatural  excitement  and  acuteness  of  others ;  the 
capacity  to  maintain  some  relation  with  the  operator,  so  that  the  sleep  and  the  dreams  of  the 
subject  are  under  his  exclusive  direction  and  control.  All  these  phenomena,  with  one  appa- 
rent exception,  are  analogous  to  those  of  the  forms  of  somnambulism  already  considered. 
The  production  of  the  sleep  is  the  result  of  an  excitement  of  some  of  the  sense-organs  01 
parts  of  the  nervous  system,  initiated  by  exciting  and  fixing  the  attention  of  a  susceptible 
patient,  by  the  aid  of  a  strong  will  and  the  energetic  activity  of  the  operator.  The  physical 
and  immediate  cause  of  the  sleep  is  common  to  all  the  cases.  It  is  the  congestion  of  the 
brain.  The  occasions  or  causes  of  the  congestion  are  diverse.  In  natural  somnambulism,  it 
is  an  incident  of  ordinary  sleep  in  a  person  of  sensitive  organism.  In  morbid  somnambulism, 
it  is  an  attendant  of  active  nervous  disease.  In  the  artificial,  the  congestion  is  the  result  of 
the  attention  of  the  patient  leading  to  excessive  physical  excitement  of  some  part  of  the 
sensorium. 

§  340.  In  this  form  of  somnambulism,  the  feature  which  is  at  once  the  most 
How  one  mind  distinctive  and  the  most  difficult  to  explain  is  the  control  of  one  mind  by 
Another.0  *  another.  While  the  patien  is  inaccessible  to  communications  from  every 

other  person,  he  is  open  both  to  communications  and  impressions  from  the 
operator.  Not  only  is  he  open  to  communications  from  him,  but  he  is  also  in  a  considerabla 
degree  subject  to  his  control.  The  senses  and  the  attention  are  both  sealed  to  words  and 
signs  from  every  one  besides,  but  they  respond  with  unnatural  sensibility  to  the  slightest  inti- 
mations from  a  single  person.  To  many  this  seems  incredible,  and  they  reject  all  testimony 
in  its  support  as  unworthy  of  confidence.  To  others  it  is  an  enigma,  which  cannot  be 
explained  by  any  of  the  known  laws  of  the  soul's  activity. 

If,  however,  we  consider  the  phenomena  of  natural  somnambulism,  or  even  those  of  the 
common  dream  we  shall  find  some  striking  points  of  resemblance.  In  both  these  conditions 
great  insensibility  of  certain  powers  is  conjoined  with  extreme  sensitiveness  of  others.  Th« 


348  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §342. 

dreamer  and  the  somnambulist  are  dead  in  some  of  their  senses  and  comparatively  alert  and 
active  in  others.  The  phantasy  of  both  is  active.  To  ordinary  persons  any  approach  to  their 
inner  life  is  entirely  precluded.  But  to  the  observer  who  understands  the  habits,  or  can  inter 
pret  the  dream  of  either,  it  is  not  difficult  to  gain  the  attention,  to  institute  and  maintain 
conversation,  to  effect  a  communication  with  the  thoughts,  to  give  positive  direction  and 
control  to  the  thoughts,  and,  through  the  thoughts,  to  the  feelings.  No  feature  of  a  person 
In  this  condition  is  so  striking  as  the  entire  and  helpless  dependence  of  some  of  his  powers 
on  other  persons  for  stimulus  and  guidance,  and  the  passiveness  with  which  both  the  senses 
and  the  fancy  respond  to  their  suggestions,  and  assent  to  their  assertions. 

In  the  artificial  somnambulism  these  extremes  are  intensified.  The  natural  equilibrium  is 
•more  effectually  disturbed  than  in  the  state  just  described.  The  insensibility  of  some  of  the 
powers,  and  the  sensitiveness  of  others,  are  heightened.  This  condition  is  induced  by  processes 
that  bring  the  operator  prominently  before  the  attention  of  the  subject,  and  connect  him  with 
the  trains  of  thought  which  his  phantasy  pursues.  The  subject  falls  asleep  with  his  eye  fixed 
upon  the  operator,  by  obeying  directions  which  fell  from  his  lips,  and  following  motions 
and  signs  which  engrossed  his  own  attention.  When  the  sleep  is  effected,  it  is  in  its  nature  but 
partial.  A  portion  only  of  his  powers  are  awake,  and,  by  concession,  are  morbidly  and 
sensitively  alive  to  their  appropriate  impressions.  It  is  not  unnatural,  rather  is  it  most 
natural  and  reasonable,  to  expect  that  these  so  sensitive  powers  would  respond  to  the  voice 
and  even  to  the  tones  of  the  one  person  to  whom  the  patient  had  passively  surrendered  in  the 
beginning  of  the  process ;  that  indications  which  escape  the  notice  of  ordinary  observers, 
should  be  intelligible  and  patent  for  him,  and  that,  when  these  indications  are  conveyed,  they 
should  control  all  his  movements  of  thought  and  feeling.  It  is  credible  that  the  pictures 
before  the  fancy  of  the  operator  should  be  awakened  in  his  own,  and  that  his  positive  assertion 
should  not  only  be  taken  as  proof  of  their  real  existence,  but  should  cause  the  subject 
to  believe  that  his  own  senses  perceive  them,  so  that  he  should  believe  he  sees  a  mountain, 
a  house,  brilliant  colors,  smoke,  flame,  etc.,  etc.,  at  the  will  of  the  operator  who  dominates 
over  his  fancy. 

§  341.  There  are  not  a  few  who  require  us  to  believe  more  and  to  explain 
Still  higher  furtner  tnan  we  have  already  done.  They  assert  that  the  operator  can  not 
claims.  only  connect  himself  with  the  mind  of  his  subject  by  the  ordinary  media  of 

communication  and  direction,  but  that  he  can  do  so  by  what,  to  the  senses, 
seems  to  be  no  medium  at  all,  but  which  they  assert  is  an  impalpable,  magnetic  fluid.  At  all 
events,  they  insist  on  the  fact  that  the  operator  can  direct  the  thoughts  and  control  the  phan- 
tasy of  the  subject  simply  by  willing  to  do  so.  They  contend  that  his  thoughts  are  followed 
by  those  of  his  subject  by  becoming  the  object  of  his  direct  insight ;  that  the  pictures  of  his 
fancy  are  revealed  to  him  as  realities ;  so  that,  whatever  scenes  he  conjures  up  before  the 
imagination,  he  can  will  to  become  realities  to  the  patient  with  whom  he  is  in  complete 
rapport.  If  these  are  facts,  we  are  free  to  confess  that  they  cannot  be  explained  by  the 
principles  and  the  laws  of  the  ordinary  psychology.  On  the  other  hand,  this  psychology  can 
go  far  toward  explaining  why  what  is  credible,  as  already  accounted  for,  should  be  mistaken  in 
the  way  we  have  described.  It  is  not  difficult  for  us  to  understand  or  believe  that,  to  a  person 
so  sensitive  to  impressions  as  the  subject  manifestly  is,  many  intimations  would  be  effective 
which  escape  the  observation  of  uncritical  observers,  if  we  say  nothing  of  the  deceptions 
which  are  the  result  of  charlatanism  and  collusion.  The  balance  of  probability  may  be  fairly 
said  to  be  on  the  side  of  the  version  which  we  have  given  of  the  facts,  and  their  possible 
explanation. 

§  342.  Our  discussion  of  the  phantasy  would  not  be  complete,  if  we  omitted 
Hallucina-  to  notice  the  phenomena  of  hallucinations,  and  spectral  apparitions  or 
ritions,'etc.PPa~  illusions.  A  distinction  should  be  made  between  the  proper  images  of  the 

phantasy,  when  mistaken  for  or  believed  to  be  realities,  as  by  the  dreamer 
and  the  somnambulist,  and  the  actual  vision  of  images  in  the  formation  of  which  the  sense* 


§  342.  REPRESENTATION. THE   PHANTASY.  349 

cooperate,  such  as  occur  to  persons  in  a  morbid  condition  when  they  are  oioadly  awake,  a« 
also  to  those  attacked  by  fever,  or  to  such  as  suffer  from  the  effects  of  certain  narcotics  01 
intoxicating  drugs.  One  of  the  most  remarkable  cases  of  continued  exposure  to  such  visit* 
tions,  is  that  recorded  of  himself  by  the  celebrated  Nicolai  of  Berlin  in  the  Transactions  of 
the  Royal  Society  of  Berlin,  for  1799.  We  copy  the  translation  in  Nicholson's  Journal,  vol 
vi.  p.  161  : 

"  During  the  latter  six  months  of  the  year  1790,  I  had  endured  griefs  that  most  deeply  affected  me. 
Dr.  Selle,  who  was  accustomed  to  bleed  me  twice  a  year,  had  deemed  it  advisable  to  do  so  but  once.  On  the 
21th  of  February,  1791,  after  a  sharp  altercation,  I  suddenly  perceived,  at  the  distance  of  ten  paces,  a  dead 
body,  and  inquired  of  my  wife  if  she  did  not  see  it.  My  question  alarmed  her  much,  and  she  hastened  tc 
send  for  a  doctor.  The  apparition  lasted  eight  minutes.  At  four  in  the  afternoon,  the  same  vision  re- 
appeared. I  was  then  alone.  Much  disturbed  by  it,  I  went  to  my  wife's  apartments.  The  vision  fol- 
lowed me.  When  the  first  alarm  had  subsided,  I  watched  the  phantoms,  taking  them  for  what  they 
really  were— the  results  of  an  indisposition.  Full  of  this  idea,  I  carefully  examined  them,  endeavoring  to 
trace  by  what  association  of  ideas  these  forms  were  presented  to  my  imagination.  I  could  not,  however, 
ronnect  them  with  my  occupations,  my  thoughts,  or  my  works.  On  the  following  day,  the  figure  of  the 
corpse  disappeared,  but  was  replaced  by  a  great  many  other  figures,  representing  sometimes  friends,  but 
more  generally  strangers.  None  of  my  intimate  friends  were  among  these  apparitions,  which  were  almost 
exclusively  composed  of  individuals  inhabiting  places  more  or  less  distant.  I  attempted  to  produce  at  will 
persons  of  my  acquaintance,  by  an  intense  objectivity  of  their  persons ;  but  although  I  could  see  two  or 
three  of  them  distinctly  in  my  mind,  I  could  not  succeed  in  making  exterior  the  interior  perception, 
although  I  had  before  seen  them  afresh  when  not  thinking  of  them.  The  disposition  of  my  mind  prevented 
me  from  confounding  these  false  appearances  with  reality. 

These  visions  were  as  clear  and  distinct  in  solitude  as  in  company— by  day  as  by  night— in  the  street 
as  in  the  house  ;  they  were  on/y  less  frequent  at  the  houses  of  others.  "When  I  closed  my  eyes  they  some-* 
times  disappeared,  although  there  were  cases  in  which  they  were  visible ;  but  so  soon  as  I  opened  them, 
they  reappeared  immediately.  *  *  *  * 

About  four  weeks  afterward,  the  number  of  these  apparitions  increased.  I  began  to  hear  them  speak. 
Sometimes  they  conversed  together,  but  more  generally  addressed  their  conversation  to  me,  which  was 
brief  and  agreeable.  At  different  times  I  considered  them  as  tender  friends,  who  sought  to  soften  my 
griefs. 

Although  at  this  period  I  was  well,  both  in  body  and  mind,  and  these  spectres  had  become  so  familiar 
as  not  to  cause  me  the  slightest  uneasiness,  I  nevertheless  endeavored  to  dispel  them  by  suitable  remedies. 
It  was  resolved  that  an  application  of  leeches  should  be  made,  which  was  accordingly  done  on  the  20th 
April,  at  11,  A.  M.  The  surgeon  was  alone  with  me.  During  the  operation,  my  chamber  was  filled  with 
human  figures  of  all  kinds.  This  hallucination  continued  uninterruptedly  until  half  after  four,  at  which 
time  digestion  commenced.  I  then  observed  that  the  movements  of  these  phantoms  became  slower.  They 
shortly  began  to  grow  paler,  and  at  seven  o'clock,  had  become  perfectly  white.  Their  movements  were 
rather  more  rapid,  although  their  forms  were  as  distinct  as  before.  By  degrees  they  became  more  misty, 
and  appeared  to  melt  into  air,  although  some  were  still  apparent  for  a  considerable  length  of  time.  By 
eight,  the  room  was  entirely  cleared  of  these  fantastic  visitors.  Since  then  I  have  several  times  thought 
that  the  visions  were  about  to  return,  but  they  have  not." 

The  case  of  Nicolai  is  by  no  means  solitary.  There  are  not  a  few  persons  of  sensitive 
organization  who  occasionally  see  distinct  images,  visions,  and  phantasms  of  real  objects, 
which  have  distinct  form,  distinguishable  color,  and  a  certain  permanent  endurance  like 
objects  actually  seen.  These  phantasms,  moreover,  take  their  place  in  relation  to  real  objects. 
They  are  seated  in  chairs,  they  stand  by  the  bedside,  they  look  through  the  window,  and  have 
the  dimensions  which  are  suitable  to  their  place  and  their  distance  from  the  observer.  If  the 
judgment  of  the  subject  of  them  is  clear,  and  his  self-command  complete,  he  knows  they  are 
not  real  objects,  even  though  he  cannot  remove  them.  (Cf.  Hallucinations,  or  the  Rational 
History  of  Apparitions,  Visions,  etc.,  etc.,  by  A.  Brierre  de  Boismont,  Phil.  1853  ) 

These  phantasms  are  much  more  frequent  in  transient  delirium  from  fever,  or  permanent 
insanity.  They  are  the  almost  invariable  result  of  a  variety  of  drugs,  as  opium,  hasheesh 
Cannabis  Indica),  and  stramonium.  They  are  the  fearful  attendants  of  that  irregularity  of 
nervous  action  which  is  the  consequence  of  excess  in  the  use  of  intoxicating  liquors.  It  ia 
noticeable  that  phantasms  of  a  certain  description  are  peculiar  to  each  of  these  drugs,  as  well 
as  to  the  delirium  tremens.  These  phantasms  are  not  confined  to  vision  alone.  The  other 
senses  have  their  appropriate  phantasms ;  the  ear  has  sounds,  the  touch  various  feelings,  ana 


350  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §344, 

the  nostrils  distinguishable  odors.  None  of  these,  however,  are  as  definite,  as  permanent,  01 
as  clearly  distinguishable  as  the  phantasms  of  vision. 

.         .  §  343.    It  is  important  to  distinguish  these  phantasms  or  apparitions  from  thtr 

tions  and  spec-  images  of  the  phantasy  proper.  Unless  we  do,  we  cannot  clearly  understand  01 
caT'  "epresenta-  interpret  the  phenomena  of  delirium,  and  certain  other  forms  of  mental 
tions-  aberration.  Two  agencies  concur  in  their  production — the  action  of  the 

phantasy  by  means  of  the  spiritual  image,  and  that  of  the  sense-organ  which  is  appropriately 
concerned.  It  has  already  been  observed,  that  when  even  a  sense-object  is  imaged,  especially 
if  it  be  vividly  and  continuously  pictured  by  the  phantasy,  as  a  sound  or  sight,  the  mind'a 
attention  to  it  tends  to  awaken  a  sympathetic  activity  of  the  sense-organ  by  which  the  object 
was  originally  perceived.  By  this  provision  the  organs  are  enabled  to  act  more  promptly  in 
case  of  a  second  perception,  the  phantasy  working  in  aid  of  perception.  It  is  a  part  of  the 
same  provision  that  the  emotions  appropriate  to  both  images  and  objects  are  called  forth,  and 
the  emotion  or  feeling  appropriate,  both  tend  to  excite  and  fix  the  sense-organ  to  a  more 
energetic  sense-perception.  By  reaction,  also,  the  sense  and  locomotive  organs,  when  placed 
in  the  required  attitude,  act  in  their  turn  upon  the  phantasy,  so  that  the  assumption  of  an 
attitude,  the  adjustment  of  the  features  to  the  expression  of  an  emotion,  or  the  exercise  of  a 
perception,  carries  with  itself  a  strong  tendency  toward  the  feeling  or  act  that  is  appropriate. 

Again,  in  the  sense-organism  psychologically  considered,  there  is  a  tendency  to  be  excited 
or  impressed  a  second  time  without  a  sense-object,  in  a  manner  similar  to  that  which  the 
presence  of  the  object  originally  occasioned.  Sometimes,  in  conditions  of  the  system  not 
known  to  be  abnormal,  this  excitement  goes  so  far  as  to  give  to  the  mind  all  the  conditions 
of  transient  sense-perception.  As  a  consequence,  the  mind  has  actual  percepts  without 
material  objects,  especially  on  waking  from  sleep.  The  mind  sees  colored  spectra,  and  hears 
sounds  when  there  are  no  material  things  or  objects  to  be  seen  or  heard.  These  occasional 
phenomena  clearly  establish  the  truth  that  the  sense-organism,  without  the  stimulus  of  an 
object,  can  be  brought  into  a  condition  nearly  allied  to  that  to  which  it  is  excited  by  that 
object.  Whether  the  excitement  is  mental  or  physical,  is  of  little  import,  provided  that  the 
excitement  is  furnished.  Let,  now,  the  sense-organism  be  in  a  condition  of  morbid  sensibility, 
and  let  the  phantasy  be  also  morbidly  aroused,  and  it  is  not  unnatural  that  phantasms  should 
take  material  forms  or  be  invested  with  material  qualities ;  nor  is  it  surprising  that,  with  the 
action  and  reaction  of  mind  and  body,  these  should  seem  for  an  instant  to  be  real,  until  the 
judgment  corrects  the  half-formed  inference.  But  let  the  judgment  itself  be  disturbed  by 
more  serious  disarrangements  of  the  nervous  system ;  let  the  conditions  of  attentive  com- 
parison,  continuity  of  memory  and  of  thought,  aril  be  disturbed,  as  is  the  case  in  many  forma 
of  delirium,  and  the  raving  madness  which  sees  nothing  but  phantasms  where  it  ought  to  see 
realities,  or  which  invests  the  real  objects  of  sense  with  fantastic  shapes  and  attributes,  are 
fully  explained  (cf.  §§  109,  237). 

§  344.    It  is  no  part  of  our  duty  to  give  a  scientific  theory  of  insanity.     We 
have  only  attempted  to  explain  the  part  which  the  phantasy  has  in  the  mental 
operations,  under  this  condition  of  irregular  psychical  activity.     We  ought 
also  to  add,  that  it  is  by  no  means  universally  the  case  that  the  insane  are 
haunted  with  phantasms.     It  often  happens  that  insanity  is  the  result  of  mere  mental  con- 
fusion or  distraction,  such  as  may  result  from  the  excessive  rapidity  or  the  excessive  pre- 
ponderance of  certain  drganic  or  vital  senses-perceptions.     These  may  so  distract  or  preoccupy 
the  attention,  as  to  preclude  the  possibility  of  a  cool  judgment  or  a  controlled  activity  in 
respect  to  any  matter  whatever.     In  such  cases,  the  phantasy,  as  well  as  the  perceptions,  are 
either  so  hurried  and  flighty,  or  so  fixed  and  recurring,  that  the  activities  of  memory,  com- 
parison, and  judgment  are  all  untrustworthy.     Or,  again,  the  mind,  and  not  the  body,  under 
some  overmastering  passion,  has  given  to  phantasy  such  complete  control  over  the  other 
powers,  as  to  disturb  the  equilibrium  of  spiritual  activity.     In  these  cases  the  phenomena  are 
purely  mental.     The  sense-perceptions  are  correctly  made.     The  vision  is  disturbed  by  nf 


§  345.  BEPRESENTATION. — THE  IMAGINATION.  351 

spettra.  There  are  no  special  disturbances  of  the  bodily  sensations.  But  the  mind  ii 
occupied  with  inferences  incorrectly  derived  from  its  past  experiences  or  its  present  condition. 
It  is  haunted  with  depressing  images,  or  gloomy  forebodings.  Its  distracted  phantasy  is  8C 
overpowered  as  to  set  at  naught  the  testimony  of  the  senses,  the  asseverations  of  trusted 
friends,  the  conclusions  of  its  own  better  judgment,  the  principles,  the  faith,  and  the  hopes  which 
had  been  the  soul's  support  and  guide.  (Cf.  J.  E.  Purkinje,  Wachen,  Schlaf,  Traumen,  in 
Wagner's  H.-W.-B. ;  W.  B.  Carpenter,  Sleep,  in  Todd's  Cyc.  ;  A.  Lemoine,  Du  S-^mmeil  au 
point  de  vue  Physiologique  et  Psychologique,  Paris,  1865  ;  M.  L.  F.  A.  Maury,  I<e  Sommeil  et  let 
Reves,  etc.,  Paris,  1862  ;  Dr.  Lyon  Playfair,  On  Sleep,  etc.,  Northern  Journal  of  Medicine, 
1844 ;  A.  Durham,  The  State  of  the  Brain  during  Sleep,  Guy's  Hospital  Reports,  3d  series, 
vol.  vi.  1866  ;  A.  Brierre  de  Boismont,  Hallucinations,  etc.  (translated  from  the  French),  Phil. 
1853;  W.  Griesinger,  Mental  Pathology  and  Therapeutics  (from  the  German),  Lond.  1867; 
H.  Maudsley,  The  Physiology  and  Pathology  of  the  Mind,  New  York,  1867). 


CHAPTER    VI. 

KEPKESENTATION. (3.)    THE   IMAGINATION   OB  CREATIVE   POWEE. 

From  the  phantasy,  the  most  passive  form  and  exercise  of  representation,  we  proceed  to  the 
imagination,  its  most  active  and  elevated  energy.  In  phantasy,  representation  sinks  intc 
an  almost  unconscious  agency,  that  owns  no  allegiance  to  reason  or  intelligence.  In 
imagination,  it  is  elevated  to  the  intelligent  service  of  feeling  and  thought,  of  duty  and 
religion  ;  and  gives  birth  to  the  noblest  products  of  poetry,  science,  and  art. 

subject  and  §  345-  In  treating  OI>  tne  creative  imagination,  we  shall 
°f  in~  ^rst  consi^er  tne  general  characteristics,  conditions,  and 
laws,  which  are  common  to  this  power  in  all  its  phases  and 
degrees  of  activity,  and  then  the  special  forms  in  which  it  is  manifested. 
The  field  of  inquiry  is  very  wide,  and  it  includes  subjects  of  varied  in- 
terest. It  includes  all  those  processes  in  which  man  rises  above  the 
position  of  a  simple  coypist  from  nature  and  experience,  and  in  any 
sense  originates  new  products.  The  appellations  in  common  Use  to  desig- 
nate these  processes,  or  the  capacities  for  their  exercise,  as  fancy,  imagi- 
nation, invention,  reverie,  are  not  applied  with  technical  exactness,  nor  do 
they  answer  the  ends  of  a  philosophical  explanation.  They  do  not  satis- 
factorily define  the  processes  nor  the  powers,  nor  divide  them  by  lines 
that  are  distinct  and  clear ;  nor  do  they  explain  their  products  by  their 
real  principles  and  laws.  And  yet  we  are  obliged  to  use  and  recognize 
them,  for  they  are  too  closely  intertwined  with  our  common  speech,  to  be 
laid  aside  or  displaced. 

Conditions  and  ^ur  first  duty  ^  to  consider  the  conditions,  laws,  and  char- 
SonCrtolstiieCOiSl  acteristics  which  are  common  to  the  creative  imagination. 
agination.  ^re  as]^  first  of  ^  wjjat  are  t|ie  materials  which  are  fur- 

mshed  to  this  power  from  nature  and  experience,  and  which  it  is  forced 


852  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §345 

to  make  use  of  in  all  its  creations  ?     In  answer  to  this  general  question, 
we  would  say  : 

1.  Space  and  time  are  always  employed  in  these  processes, 
Space  and  time,     and  always  appear  in  their  products.     The  objects  that  are 

conceived,  whether  by  the  poet,  the  dramatist,  or  the  inventor, 
as  forming  the  scenes  in  which  their  personages,  materials,  or  machinery 
are  introduced,  or  within  which  they  are  conceived,  are  invariably  sub- 
jected to  the  laws  and  relations  of  space.  The  acts  and  events  which  are 
described  or  imagined,  all  take  place  under  the  conditions  of  time.  They 
precede  and  follow  one  another.  They  are  either  present,  past,  or  future. 
The  world  of  the  imagination  is  always  a  world  of  imagined  space  and 
imagined  time,  as  the  world  of  reality  is  a  world  of  real  space  and  of 
real  time. 

2.  The  necessary  and  universal  thought-conceptions  and  re 

Thought  concep-     ,      .  _  .  .  ,  .  ,      ,     .  , 

tjons  and  reia-  lations  under  which  we  cognize  real  beings,  are  alwaya 
supposed  and  employed.  Every  being  and  thing  which  we 
imagine,  we  imagine  more  or  less  distinctly,  as  substance  with  attributes, 
as  cause  and  effect  under  proper  conditions,  and  as  means  and  ends.  These 
original  intuitions  and  relations,  under  which  we  view  and  by  which  we 
connect  the  parts  of  the  existing  world  of  matter  and  spirit,  must  all  be 
introduced  and  observed  in  the  world  which  we  create.  Every  one  of 
them  must  be  used,  or  the  work  would  not  be  rational  ;  but  not  a  single  new 
one  can  be  suggested  or  evoked  by  the  utmost  energy  of  the  creative  power. 

It  is  not  intended  that  the  imagination  should  picture  these  in  their  abstract  form.  They 
cannot  be  imaged,  any  more  than  they  can  be  perceived  by  sense  or  consciousness.  But  as 
concrete  objects  can  be  perceived  only  under  these  relations  when  they  are  imaged,  they  can 
and  must  be  imaged  as  observing  them.  To  these  conceptions  and  laws  we  subject  the  whole 
realm  of  imagined  beings,  precisely  as  we  subject  to  them  the  real  world,  whether  of  matter 
or  spirit.  But  we  cannot,  by  any  creative  energy,  add  a  single  new  thought-  conception  or 
suggest  a  single  new  thought-relation. 


The  ima  •  ation    3    ^ie  imagination  is  limited  to  the  material  qualities  which 
limited  to  mate-    nature  furnishes.      We  cannot  create  or  conceive  of  new 

rial  qualities. 

colors  by  any  exertion  of  creative  energy.  Hume  and  Tetens 
both  suggest,  that  if  the  imagination  were  furnished  with  the  colors  blue 
and  yellow,  it  could,  by  combining  the  two,  image  the  color  green,  with 
out  ever  having  seen  it.  The  mistake  is  twofold.  The  eye  does  not  see 
the  blue  and  yellow  in  the  green,  but  the  product  which  results  from  the 
combination  of  the  two.  The  imagination  cannot  go  beyond  what  the 
bodily  eye  furnishes. 

In  a  similar  way,  the  imagination  is  limited  with  respect  to  all  the  simple  qualities  of 
sense,  to  tastes,  and  sounds,  and  odors,  and  tactual  feels.  In  cases  when  a  new  percept  or 
property,  as  a  taste,  or  sound,  or  color,  seems  to  be  invented  by  art,  the  imagination  can  only 
anticipate  the  result  of  its  devising,  by  a  likeness  or  analogy  to  some  remembered  experience  ; 
Cut  it  cannot  image  beforehand  the  product  itself. 


§346.  BEPRESENTATION.  -  THE   IMAGINATION.  353 


Limited  also  to  ^'  ^n  ^ke  manner,  the  imagination  is  limited  to  the  spiritual 
Jowew  spiritual  phenomena  and  processes  which  consciousness  reveals,  as  well 
as  to  the  kinds  of  powers  which  these  processes  suppose. 
What  it  is  to  know,  and  feel,  and  will,  we  know  by  the  varieties  of  GUI 
own  experience;  and  what  a  being  is  who  can  exert  these  activities,  we 
aie  taught  by  consciousness.  In  this  way  we  learn  what  are  the  acts,  and 
products,  and  capacities  of  spirit. 

No  effort  at  creation  or  construction  will  enable  us  to  originate  a  single  additional  power 
or  product  beyond  these  limits,  nor  a  spiritual  agent  that  does  not  possess  these  or  like 
endowments.  If  we  imagine  the  spirit  of  a  brute,  and  its  actings,  and  seek  to  enter  into  its 
consciousness,  we  imagine  it  as  possessing  some  of  these  powers  at  least,  with  limited  energies 
and  products.  As  we  ascend  into  the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  higher  spirits,  we  reverse  the 


These  are  the  varied  materials  which  are  furnished  for  the  service 
and  use  of  the  creative  power — the  world  of  matter  and  the  world  of 
spirit,  with  their  wealth  and  variety  of  things,  agents,  and  events,  limited 
by  the  finite  relations  and  connections  of  space  and  time,  subjected  to  the 
conditions  of  thought-knowledge,  or  of  rational  combination  and  analysis. 
These  materials  are  all  gathered  from  the  experience  of  each  individual, 
and  may  be  represented  by  the  laws  of  association,  for  the  moulding  and 
plastic  energy  of  the  creative  function. 

it  creates  new    §  346.   We  inquire,   second,   What    new   products  can    be 
FationCtto  space    evolved  and  created  out  of  these  materials  by  the  imagina- 
tion proper?     We  follow  the  order  of  the  topics  already 
adopted. 

(1.)  In  respect  to  space  and  time,  though  we  cannot  imagine  objects  to 
exist  nor  events  to  occur  out  of  relation  to  each  or  to  both,  yet  we  can . 
imagine  them  to  bear  relations  to  them,  to  which  there  is  no  type  of 
reality.  The  variety  of  actual  relations  of  this  kind  is  vast,  yet  limited. 
Above  all  these,  the  imagination  rises,  and  beyond  all  these  it  soars,  form- 
ing for  itself,  at  its  will  and  what  it  will,  out  of  the  immeasurably  vaster 
range  of  possible  relations. 

We  take  a  few  examples  of  the  changes  which  it  makes  in  the  size  of  objects, 
in  the  size  of  The  types  of  animals  actually  existing,  as  of  the  horse,  the  man,  the  elephant, 
material  objects.  and  the  mouse)  lie  within  certain  extremes,  the  greatest  and  least  of  their 

kind  ever  known.  The  imagination  scorns  these  limits,  and  it  can  give  us 
horses  of  every  size,  from  the  ponies  of  Queen  Mab  up  to  steeds  large  enough  for  the  uses  of 
a  giant.  It  can  create  men  smaller  than  the  Lilliputian,  and  larger  than  the  contrasted  Brob- 
dignags.  It  can  make  elephants  smaller  than  mice,  and  mice  larger  than  elephants. 

Again,  the  position  or  situation  of  objects  is  determined  by  the  character  of 
In  their  relative  taeir  material  and  tne  laws  of  nature.  Mountains  hold  a  certain  relation  '.c 
position.  vallies,  streams  to  meadows,  groves  to  lawns,  houses  to  gardens,  cities  t« 

harbors,  roads,  and  rivers ;  so  that,  where  we  find  the  one,  we  expect  to  find 
the  other.  But  the  imagination  acknowledges  none  of  these  relations  or  laws  of  combining 
or  conjoining  objects  in  space.  While  it  must  imagine  them  all  spatial,  it  can  place  them  ae 
23 


854  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §347 

it  will  in  space.  It  can  plant  a  garden  in  a  desert  a  thousand  leagues  from  a  dwelling  of  man, 
It  can  build  and  people  a  city,  without  harbor,  river,  or  road.  In  its  grouping  of  copse  and 
lawn,  and  of  meadows  and  streams,  it  can  conceive  of  combinations  and  contrasts  more  pic- 
turesque than  were  ever  effected  at  Chatsworth  or  at  Kew. 

There  are  fixed  forms  of  objects  in  nature,  as  the  diooping 
rial  form?.  ""  elm,  the  aspiring  pine,  the  umbrageous  beech,  the  massive 

and  gnarled  oak.  In  rock  and  mountain,  certain  types  are 
ever  recurring.  The  same  is  true  of  the  form  of  the  horse,  the  deer,  the 
dog,  and  of  man  himself.  But  the  imagination  can  draw  more  graceful 
lines  than  nature  has  ever  shaped,  the  material  with  which  she  works 
being  more  intractable,  and  the  action  of  staining  and  decomposing  ele- 
ments being  inevitable.  Following  her  idealizing  images,  art  has  given  U8 
the  Egyptian  tomb  and  pyramid,  the  Chinese  pagoda,  the  Grecian  temple, 
and  the  Gothic  cathedral,  none  of  which  are  copied  from  nature,  though  all 
have  been  suggested  by  her  forms. 

In  one  aspect  they  surpass  nature,  for  their  lines  are  more  consummately  drawn,  and  th^ir 
forms  are  moulded  more  perfectly.  We  even  measure  nature  by  what  art  has  done,  and  com- 
mend  her  by  epithets  taken  from  art.  We  say  of  the  stem  of  the  pine  or  the  elm,  It  shoots 
up  like  a  pillar.  We  call  the  forest  a  "  pillared  shade."  We  say  of  a  man,  He  stands  like  a 
Btatue  ;  or,  He  is  an  Apollo,  for  graceful  strength  ;  She  is  a  Venus,  for  beauty. 

In  time,  also,  the  imagination  has  boundless  range.     It  must 

It  alters  the  re-  n         .«  -i  --i  T     /> 

time,     represent  all  actions  and  events,  as  either  now,  before,  or 


after,  yet  it  can  do  as  it  pleases  as  to  which  shall  be  now, 
before,  or  after.  Nature,  in  these  relations,  acts  after  its  own  laws  and 
within  its  own  limits.  The  imagination  can  override  them  all,  and  ac- 
cordingly she  can  make  Puck  "  put  a  girdle  round  about  the  earth  in  forty 
'minutes,"  and  Uriel  "  glide  on  a  sunbeam,"  "  swift  as  a  shooting  star." 

8  347.    There  are  also  special  creations  which  the  imagina- 

It  creates  mathe-     8.  „  .  ,       . 

maticai  entities,  tion  forms  and  constructs,  or  which  space  and  time  are 
assumed  as  the  only  required  conditions.  Let  all  material 
existences  be  conceived  to  cease  to  be,  leaving  only  an  empty  void  within 
any  limits  which  may  be  supposed,  and  in  that  void  which  is  feigned,  the 
imagination  can  construct  the  surface  with  its  ever-varied  outlines,  and 
the  solid  of  every  conceivable  form.  These  are  purely  mental  construc- 
tions, and  exist  only  for  the  mind  and  by  the  mind  which  forms  them. 
Their  form  may  be  suggested  by  certain  material  things  with  which  we  are 
conversant.  The  uneven  sides  of  material  solids  may  prompt  the  imagi- 
nation to  conceive  an  extended  surface  that  is  perfectly  plane  or  even, 
The  irregular  edge  which  is  formed  by  the  junction  of  two  uneven  sides, 
may  excite  it  to  conceive  the  mental  line  that  is  "  the  shortest  distance 
between  two  points."  The  material  may  suggest  the  mental  solid,  which 
the  imagination  frames.  But  the  line,  the  surface,  and  the  solid  con- 
structed by  the  mind,  are  far  more  perfectly  drawn  and  moulded  than 


§  349.  REPRESENTATION. THE   IMAGINATION.  354 

nature  has  ever  furnished  in   material  objects,  or  than  art  has  imitated 
with  material  instruments. 

Should  it  be  conceded  that  these  creations  of  the  imagination  are  not  the  ideal  point,  lin^ 
and  surface  with  which  the  mathematician  is  conversant,  they  certainly  quite  surpass  the  coarsei 
products  of  nature  and  art. 

These  constructions  can  be  combined  and  divided  by  the  same  power  that  forms  them. 
Thus,  an  imaginary  line  can  be  prolonged,  imaginary  surfaces  can  be  adjoined,  imaginary 
golids  can  be  piled  together,  without  limit  in  direction  or  form. 

The    imagination    can    also   sweep    all    actual    events    and 
and  algebra06110    phenomena  from  the  line  of  time,  and  then  plant  along  its 

course  the  shadows  of  events  that  shall  only  symbolize  or  re- 
present its  successive  intervals  or  instants.  It  can  also  group  and  combine 
these  as  it  will.  Real  events,  as  they  precede  and  follow  one  another, 
may  incite  to  these  acts  of  pure  construction  ;  but  the  acts  and  the  prod- 
ucts which  they  excite  and  suggest  are  to  be  referred  to  the  creative 
energy  of  the  imagination.  What  relations  these  hold  to  the  distinctions 
of  number,  will  be  discussed  in  the  proper  place  (§  561). 
in  matter,  it  §  348-  (20  -^u  tne  world  of  matter,  the  imagination  can  create 
SbuSanpdarts  no  new  material,  but  it  can  divide  and  combine  the  parts  of 
and  properties.  ^  material  things  with  which  it  is  familiar,  so  as  to  form 
new  existences. 

The  head  and  trunk  of  a  man  it  can  fit  to  the  shoulders  and  body  of  a  horse.  It  can 
form  a  mermaid — part  woman,  part  fish.  It  can  provide  men,  women,  and  children  with 
wings,  and  turn  them  into  angels  and  cherubs.  It  can  represent  any  animal  with  a  human 
head.  It  can  add  to  the  head  of  a  man  the  ears  of  an  ass,  and  give  to  another  the  mouth  and 
nose,  of  a  puppy. 

It  can  connect  the  part  or  the  whole  of  any  plant  with  the  part  or  the  whole  of  any  animal, 
making  a  cabbage  to  sprout  from  the  hump  of  a  camel,  or  a  rose-branch  to  nod  from  the  head 
of  a  horse,  as  we  see  delineated  in  some  quaint  pictures  and  engravings. 

It  can  recombine  and  rearrange  the  parts  of  inorganic  things  as  it  will,  making  a  rock  to 
oe  balanced  upon  a  roof-ridge,  and  a  bridge  to  stand  dry  in  a  desert.  There  is  no  limit  to  the 
grotesque  and  fantastic  combinations  which  can  be  made  with  the  parts  and  the  wholes  of 
material  objects. 

Though  the  imagination  cannot  invent  a  single  new  sensible  or  material  quality,  it  can 
connect  such  qualities  as  nature  has  never  combined,  making  flaming  red  dogs,  bright  yellow 
oxen,  woolly  horses,  talking  mules,  musical  jackasses,  golden  mountains,  rivers  of  wine,  ponds 
of  beer,  and  fountains  of  hot  coffee. 

§  349.  (3.)  In  respect  to  spiritual  beings,  the  imagination  is 
JtiriSIaicoEiS>8  limited  by  similar  constraints  and  invested  with  a  similar 
*arts ?fhmnttefd  ^ree<^om'  -A.  spirit  has  no  visible  or  extended  parts;  there- 
fore, as  a  spirit,  it  cannot  be  divided  and  recombined;  but 
a  spirit  may  be  connected  with  any  kind  or  form  of  matter,  may  be 
imprisoned  in  trees,  may  animate  a  cloud,  may  dwell  in  an  animal  form,  01 
"  leap  like  Minerva  from  the  head  of  Jupiter. !  " 

Not  a  single  new  spiritual  capacity  can  be  invented  or  imagined.    The 


356  THB   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  351 

loftiest  and  the  purest  of  spirit-creations  simply  feel,  desire,  and  will 
The  humblest  and  the  most  degraded  can  do  no  less.  We  cannot  invest 
the  highest  archangel  with  any  endowment  other  than  these.  We  cannot 
refuse  to  the  lowliest  animal  some  poor  analoga  to  some  of  these  functions. 

In  respect  to  the  limitations  and  the  conditions  of  the  exercise  of  the  intel 
Imaginary     in- 
tellectual     and     lect,  the  imagination  has  the  widest  range  of  creative  power.     It  can  con- 

ftt?ons°nal  °re~  ceive  the  intellect  of  a  God  that  creates  all  that  it  discerns,  and  discerns  what- 
ever it  creates,  without  condition  or  process,  by  an  all-penetrating  and  all-com- 
prehending intuition.  It  can  also  imagine  the  intellect  of  an  idiot,  struggling  to  free  itself  from 
the  gross  obstructions  of  a  diseased  body,  and  fixing  its  painful  attention  in  the  first  beginnings 
of  knowledge. 

In  respect  of  feeling,  it  can,  on  the  one  hand,  imagine  pure  love  glowing  with  the  energy 
of  seraphic  fervor,  or  simple  hatred  raging  with  fiendish  malignity ;  and,  on  the  other,  the 
most  imperfect  and  feeblest  actings  of  either. 

There  is  no  limit  to  the  variety  of  spiritual  beings  with  which  the  imaginary  world  can 
be  peopled,  nor  to  the  variety  of  the  conditions  of  being  and  acting  to  which  they  can  be 
subjected.  The  graceful  Titania,  with  her  frolicsome  and  mischief-making  fairies ;  the  hideoua 
Caliban,  in  body  and  spirit  the  very  contrast  of  the  wonderful  Miranda ;  Satan  and  Abdiel ;  are 
examples  of  the  variety  of  spiritual  creations  which  the  imagination  can  construct  out  of  its 
limited  materials. 

§  350.  (4.)    We  have  seen  that  the  imagination  cannot  step 

Products   under          .  ,  ,  ,  ^        .      , 

thought-re-  without  the  charmed  circle  of  thought-conceptions  and 
relations.  Some  of  the  examples  of  what  it  can  do  within 
that  circle  by  newly  conjoining  attributes  of  material  and  spiritual  beings, 
have  already  been  given.  It  cannot  conceive  of  beings,  except  as  sub- 
stances and  attributes,  but  it  can  join  any  attribute,  of  any  intensity  and 
compass,  to  any  substance.  It  cannot  break  them  from  that  connection 
which  binds  all  real  beings  and  events  as  causes  and  effects ;  but  it  can 
make  any  existence  to  serve  as  the  cause  of  any  other  as  its  effect,  and 
thus  can  reverse  the  whole  order  of  actual  being  by  its  capricious  and 
fantastic  combinations ;  or  it  can  enlarge  the  bounds  of  science  by  its 
aappy  suggestions  of  undiscovered  powers  and  laws,  and  the  appliances  of 
irt  by  applications  before  unimagiued,  of  familiar  agencies  to  new  results. 
All  things  in  the  world  of  fancy  must  be  conceived  as  fitted  for  some  end, 
but  the  adaptations  may  be  imagined  as  wildly  as  the  caprices  of  a  mad- 
man's dream,  or  as  wisely  as  the  perfect  fitness  which  we  believe  has  been 
arranged  by  the  All- wise  God. 

§  351.  With  this  view  before  us  of  the  materials  to  which 
imagination  ere-  the  imagination  is  limited,  and  of  the  products  into  which 
it  transforms  them,  we  are  prepared  to  inquire,  third,  How 
does  the  imagination  effect  these  changes;  or  what  is  the  precise  work 
which  the  imagination  performs  in  its  creative  function?  It  might  be 
deemed  sufficient  to  reply,  The  imagination  produces  or  creates  these 
products  from  the  materials,  and  laws  of  nature ;  it  does  all  which  IB 
necessary  to  effect  these  changes :  it  is  enough  that  the  imagination  pop 


I  352.  REPRESENTATION. THE   IMAGINATION.  35*5 

forms  this  work  ;  it  can  do  all  that  its  creations  show  it  is  able  to  perform  j 
we  interpret  its  function  and  its  capacity  by  the  results  produced.  But 
while  this  suffices  as  a  general  answer,  it  is  fair  to  ask,  more  particularly, 
What  are  the  principal  differences  which  we  discern  between  the 
products  and  the  materials  from  which  they  are  formed,  and  what 
do  we  thence  infer  as  to  the  capacities  of  the  creative  power  ?  We  ob- 
serve, in  answer  to  these  inquiries,  There  are  three  different  acts  in 
which  its  creative  power  is  shown,  (l.)  The  imagination  can  recom- 
bine  and  arrange  the  constituents  of  Nature  in  new  forms  and  products. 
(2.)  It  can  idealize  and  apply  the  relations  of  objects  to  extension  and  time. 
(3.)  It  can  form  and  employ  an  ideal  standard  for  the  intensity  and 
the  direction  of  the  activity  of  natural  or  spiritual  agents,  and  for  the 
material  objects  and  acts  which  symbolize  them.  We  will  consider  these 
acts  in  their  order. 

1.  The  combining  and  arranging  office  of  the  imagination. 

§  352.  The  examples  already  cited  both  prove  and  illustrate 
arranges  parts  the  fact,  that  the  imagination  very  largely  acts  in  the  way 
of  reuniting  and  rearranging  the  materials  furnished  to  expe- 
rience, and  they  also  suggest  the  limitations  under  which  this  function  can 
be  employed.  It  is  obvious,  also,  that  the  so-called  parts  of  objects,  and 
objects  treated  as  parts,  are  as  minute  and  numerous  as  any  species  of 
analysis  can  separate.  The  terms  parts  and  wholes^  are,  as  we  have 
already  seen,  relative,  changing  with  the  objects  to  which  they  are  applied, 
and  the  special  design  with  which  they  are  used. 

There  are  sense-parts  and  sense-wholes,  representative-parts  and  representative-wholes, 
and  thought-parts  and  thought-wholes.  A  whole,  as  a  building  or  tree,  may  be  a  part  of  the 
landscape  with  which  it  is  connected ;  while  it  is  still  a  whole  with  respect  to  its  doors,  win- 
dows, roof,  etc.,  and  whatever  else  makes  it  quantitatively  complete.  This  is  an  example  of 
the  sense-wholes  and  sense-parts.  Again,  the  several  properties  or  relations  of  the  dwelling 
or  the  tree,  its  form,  dimensions,  color,  smell,  etc.,  are  thought-parts,  which  can  be  combined 
into  new  wholes,  by  taking  away  and  adding,  as  we  have  already  seen.  If  these  new  wholes 
are  individual,  they  are  formed  from  representation ;  if  they  are  generalized,  they  are  the 
work  of  thought  proper,  or  logical  wholes  in  the  larger  sense  of  the  word.  The  synthesis  of 
the  creative  imagination  reaches  as  far  and  is  applied  as  widely  as  the  analysis  of  sense  and 
thought  can  go.  The  imagination  may  reunite  into  varying  products  all  that  perception  and 
consciousness  separate  or  distinguish,  and  under  every  one  of  the  relations  in  w  wch  they 
apprehend  their  objects.  These  relations  are  its  only  limits  and  laws. 

That  the  imagination  exercises  this  function  of  recombination,  has  heen  abundantly  illustrated  in  oui 
previous  examples ;  indeed,  this  is  conceded  by  all  writers.  The  only  error  or  oversight  which  we  notice  is, 
of  those  who  limit  its  office  entirely  to  acts  of  this  kind.  Thus,  Hamilton  says  :  "  Now,  in  the  first  place, 
the  terms  productive  or  creative  are  very  improperly  applied  to  imagination,  or  the  representative  faculty 
of  the  mind.  It  is  admitted  on  all  hands  that  imagination  creates  nothing — that  is,  produces  nothing  new ; 
and  the  terms  in  question  are,  therefore,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  those  who  employ  them,  only 
abusively  applied  to  denote  the  operations  of  Fancy,  in  the  new  arrangement  it  makes  of  the  old  objects 
furnished  to  it  by  the  senses."  (Met.  Lee.  xxxiii.)  "  As  to  what  is  called  the  productive  or  creative 
imagination,  this  ie  dependent  for  its  materials  on  the  senses,  and  on  the  reproductive  imagination.  The 
unagiuation  produces— the  imagination  creates  nothing;  it  only  rearranges  parts,  it  only  builds  up  oW 


858  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  353. 

materials  into  new  forms  ;  and,  in  reference  to  this  act,  it  ought  therefore  to  be  called,  not  the  productive  oi 
creative,  but  the  plastic."  (.Lee.  XLV.,  cf.  Stewart,  p.  1,  c.  iii. ;  c.  vii.  §  1.) 

So  far  as  this  single  function  is  concerned,  this  may  be  taken  as  a  correct  account  of  it, 
Limits  and  laws  witll  a  6mgie  qualification.  The  recombination  and  rearrangement  which  the  imagina- 
evolved.Pr0<  *  tion  performs  are  purely  mental  operations,  and  the  products  are  mental.  The  materials 

taken  by  it  in  hand  are  the  mind's  representations  of  actual  things,  parts  of  things,  ol 
the  beings  of  sense  and  spirit,  and  their  acts  and  relations.  These  representations  are,  in  their  nature, 
more  refined  than  the  realities  which  they  represent.  They  admit  of  ideal  separations  which  things  will 
not  allow.  The  color  cannot  be  separated  from  the  form,  in  fact ;  assuredly  certain  colors  cannot  be  parted 
in  fact  from  certain  other  properties  as  they  can  be  parted  by  the  imagination.  The  unions  effected  by  the 
imagination  are  such  as  the  laws  of  real  being  will  not  allow.  The  incompatibilities  which  have  been 
referred  to,  as  hindering  the  combinations  of  the  imagination,  are  fewer  than  those  which  obstruct  the 
union  of  real  objects. 

In  simple  representation,  or  the  literal  transcribing  of  real  objects,  there  is  involved  some- 
thing of  what  we  call  idealization.  The  simple  image,  if  it  should  be  said  perfectly  to  repro- 
duce the  material  or  mental  reality,  would  give  it  as  an  idea,  and  not  as  a  fact  of  present 
experience.  But  in  giving  it  as  an  idea  or  image,  it  always  imperfectly  represents  it.  In 
what  is  called  simple  representation,  there  is,  therefore,  always  more  or  less  of  creation.  Nc 
single  object  or  event  is  or  can  be  ever  perfectly  reproduced  in  all  its  properties  and  relations, 
with  a  full  retention  of  each  and  of  all  in  their  original  intensity.  In  every  such  representation 
there  is  and  there  must  be  separation  and  recombination  by  the  creative  imagination,  the  sepa- 
ration or  elimination  of  those  parts  which  are  omitted,  and  the  consequent  unition  of  those, 
and  those  only,  which  are  retained.  Those  which  are  retained  are  often,  if  not  usually,  given 
in  proportions  and  intensities  which  vary  from  the  original.  But  the  imagination  has  still 
other  capacities  of  idealization  which  remain  to  be  explained.  We  consider 

2.  The  idealization  of  the  relations  of  space  and  time  in  the  creations 
of  ar^  and  the  constructions  of  mathematical  science. 

§  353.    We  have  already  referred  to  the  fact,  that  the  imagi- 

It        constructs     ' 

ideals  of  mathe-  nation,  in  every  work  of  art,  goes  beyond,  and  outdoes  the 
perfection  and  refinement  of  nature.  The  forms  which 
sculpture  moulds,  and  which,  drawing  outlines,  are,  as  we  have  seen, 
more  perfect  than  any  which  nature  produces.  Certainly  they  are  more 
perfect  than  any  which  the  senses  can  discern,  or  which  nature  can  fur- 
nish as  models.  These  constructions  cannot  be  explained  by  any  process 
of  analysis,  or  selection  of  the  parts  of  real  objects,  whether  this  analysis 
is  called  mental,  or  is  performed  by  sensible  instruments.  The  lines 
and  shapes  of  grace  which  have  been  copied  in  marble  or  drawn  upon 
canvas,  in  respect  of  delicacy  of  transition  and  ease  of  movement,  far 
surpass  those  of  any  living  being  or  actually  existing  thing. 

They  are  suggested  by,  but  are  not  copied  from,  any  such  beings  or  things 
suggested  by,  The  story  that  the  Grecian  painter  assembled  from  every  quarter  the  most 
naturePied  fr°m  celebrated  beauties,  that  he  might  borrow  some  charm  from  each,  and  combine 

all  together  in  a  perfect  work,  could  never  have  been  true.  Stewart,  indeed, 
asserts :  "  Milton  would  not  copy  his  Eden  from  any  one  scene,  but  would  select  from  each 
the  features  which  were  most  eminently  beautiful.  The  power  of  abstraction  [analysis]  en 
abled  him  to  make  the  separation,  and  taste  directed  him  in  the  selection.  Thus  he  was  fur 
nished  with  his  materials,  by  a  skilful  combination  of  which  he  has  created  a  landscape  more 
perfect,  probably,  in  all  its  parts,  than  was  ever  realized  in  nature,  etc."  (Elements,  P.  I.  c, 
vii.  §  1).  But  this  cannot  be  true,  if  Stewart  refers  to  the  images  which  were  in  Milton's  OWE 
mind  when  he  wrote.  The  separate  features  or  parts  of  the  finest  scenes  that  Milton  ever 


§354  REPRESENT ATION. THE    IMAGINATION.  353 

witnessed,  were  in  some  respects  inferior  to  those  features  which  he  imagines  and  describes 
While  it  is  tiue  that  nature,  in  some  respects,  far  outstrips  and  surpasses  what  art  can  do,  il 
is  true,  on  the  other,  that  the  imagination,  in  her  province,  can  go  far  beyond  the  attainments 
of  nature.  As  we  have  already  said,  we  even  measure  nature  by  some  of  the  achievement? 
if  art.  We  apply  the  ideals  of  the  imagination  still  more  frequently  to  try  and  to  test  what 
spiritual  achievement  furnishes. 

§  354.    We   have   already  noticed  those  peculiar  products 

Geometrical  and      °  .  .   . 

arithmetical    which  are  employed  in  mathematical  science,  and  which  are 

quantities.  ,  J  .      _  ,  •   •  m, 

known  as  geometrical  and  numerical  quantities.  Ihese  con- 
structions cannot  be  produced  by  any  process  of  separation  or  combination 
of  the  parts  of  material  objects.  In  matter  there  are  no  points,  lines, 
surfaces,  solids,  and  spheres,  such  as  geometry  conceives  and  reasons  of. 
The  unequal  faces  of  a  material  cube,  the  rough  edges  formed  by  two 
adjacent  faces  of  a  solid,  the  obtuse  corners  in  which  three  adjacent  faces 
terminate,  are  none  of  them  these  objects  of  thought,  nor  are  they  wholes 
from  which  these  can  be  evolved  or  separated  as  elements  or  constituting 
parts.  The  line  is  not  a  part  of  an  edge,  nor  the  surface  a  part  of  the 
material  face.  If  they  were  parts  which  could  be  separated  by  actual 
sense-perception  from  a  whole,  they  must  exist  in  that  whole,  or  be  dis- 
tinguished as  one  of  its  material  constituents  (cf.  §  345). 

If  it  be  said  that  these  are  distinguished  and  separated  in  the  mind,  that  the  process  of 
analysis  or  abstraction  is  mental,  it  is  still  true  that  the  mind  can  only  separate  what  it  first 
discerns.  These  objects  cannot  be  discerned  by  bodily  sense,  nor  can  they  be  represented  by 
simple  imagination.  They  must  be  created  by  the  mind,  for  the  mind  to  behold,  when  the 
mind  beholds  them.  Those  writers  who,  like  A.  Bain,  The  Senses  and  the  Intellect,  and  J.  S. 
Mill,  Logic,  etc.,  and  Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  make  these  mathe- 
matical constructions  to  be  apprehended  by  sense-perception  and  refined  by  repeated  associations 
and  experiences,  will  find  no  difficulty  in  adopting  the  theory,  that  the  imagination  forma 
these  constructions  by  analysis  and  recombination.  The  difficulty  with  their  theory  is,  that  it 
does  not  provide  and  account  for  the  facts.  The  senses  cannot  and  do  not  apprehend  these 
objects,  neither  as  wholes,  nor  as  parts  of  any  wholes  which  they  do  discern.  Nor  can  asso- 
ciation or  experience  evolve  them  ;  for  these,  according  to  the  theory  in  question,  only  elabo- 
rate what  the  senses  discern.  We  are  driven  to  the  conclusion,  by  the  very  nature  of  the 
products,  that  the  mind  is  endowed  with  the  power  to  create  what  it  seems  to  separata 
These  products  do  indeed  represent  some  property  or  relation  of  a  material  object  or  event, 
and  hence  such  an  object  or  event  may  serve  to  bring  them  distinctly  before  the  eye  of  the 
mind,  as  the  imperfect  material  points,  lines,  and  surfaces  bring  up  or  suggest  their  mathe- 
matical relations,  but  that  which  the  mind  imagines  is  this  property  or  relation  in  a  more  refined 
and  idealized  form  than  can  ever  be  realized  in  fact.  These  refined  or  idealized  objects 
the  imagination  creates  or  forms  for  itself.  It  may  be  properly  said  to  construct  or  to  create 
them — first,  in  individual  examples  and  applications,  and  then  by  rapid  and  easy  generaliza- 
tions. An  individual  point,  line,  surface,  triangle,  solid,  sphere,  are  first  constructed  in 
relation  to  and  by  suggestion  of  a  rude  material  occasion,  and  this  is  then  generalized  by  the 
ordinary  processes  and  conceived  as  resembling  every  similar  creation,  so  that  whatever  is 
true  of  the  one,  is  readily  affirmed  of  all  (§  453). 

What  is  true  of  geometrical,  is  true  also  of  numerical  quantity, 
Numbers  symbolize  the  relations  of  objects  contemplated  in  a  series,  ai 


300  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §358, 

constituting  a  whole,  divisible  into  equal  parts.  Tn  order  to  conceive  of 
number,  the  mind  must  first  view  objects  in  all  these  relations.  But  in 
nature,  so  far  as  the  senses  can  know,  there  are  no  equal  parts  consti- 
tuting divisible  wholes.  Whether  the  ultimate  molecules  or  atoms  of  mat- 
ter are  or  are  not  equal,  none  such  are  discerned  by  the  senses.  The  suc- 
cessive mental  states  which  consciousness  observes  and  by  which  it  first 
apprehends  and  measures  the  successive  portions  of  time,  are  none  of 
them  observed  in  actual  experience  to  be  equally  long  or  short.  All 
these  must  be  idealized  in  the  imagination  before  they  are  separated  by 
its  analysis  and  combined  in  its  creations.  We  proceed  to 

3.  Th,e  formation  of  an  ideal  standard  for  psychical  acts  and  states. 
The  imagination  §  355.  The  spiritual  acts  and  states  of  which  we  are  con- 
ra?ab^t88yand  scions,  differ  from  one  another  in  respect  to  the  direction 
which  they  take — i.  e.,  in  respect  to  the  objects  on  which  they 
terminate,  and  hence  to  the  quality  of  the  affections — as  well  as  in  respect 
to  the  energy  or  intensity  with  which  they  are  performed.  But  none  ever 
reach  a  perfection  in  either  respect  which  is  so  complete  as  can  be  conceived. 
Whatever  or  however  we  know,  feel,  or  choose;  we  can  conceive  it  pos- 
sible to  surpass  what  we  actually  do  or  experience.  What  we  conceive 
as  possible,  is  not  remembered — i.  e.,  represented — from  what  we  have 
known  as  actual.  We  rise  above  and  soar  beyond  the  actual  in  the  ideal 
which  we  imagine.  By  this  we  measure  the  attainments  which  we  have 
in  fact  achieved.  We  propose  that  which  is  ideally  possible  as  the  stand- 
ard which  we  aspire  to  make  real. 

Such  a  standard  is  the  work  of  the  creative  imagination.  It  cannot  be  derived  from  the 
parts  which  we  observe  in  ourselves  or  others,  because  the  parts  are  no  more  perfect  than 
are  the  wholes.  It  follows,  then,  when  we  perceive  dimly  and  believe  that  we  might  per- 
ceive  more  clearly,  or  when  we  feel  warmly  or  purely,  or  choose  strongly  and  rightly,  and  our 
feelings  or  choices  do  not  satisfy  our  tastes  or  our  conscience,  that  we  mugt  create  for  ourselves 
an  ideal  standard  of  spiritual  achievement.  Such  a  standard,  whether  it  be  a  standard  of  taste 
or  a  standard  of  duty,  is  the  work  of  the  imagination,  that,  in  connection  with  and  by  relation 
to  every  psychical  act  which  it  performs  or  state  which  it  experiences,  is  able  to  conceive  of 
that  which  is  more  perfect  and  satisfying  in  respect  to  its  object  and  energy.  This  may  not 
be  solely  the  product  of  the  imagination.  In  the  case  of  the  ideal  standard  of  duty,  the  mind 
believes  it  to  be  actually  obligatory  as  well  as  ideally  possible,  but  in  the  order  of  analysis  and 
of  nature,  the  imagination  acts  first  of  all,  the  fancy  going  before  the  belief  or  faith. 

8  356.    In  respect,  also,  to  the  expression  of  these  ideals  in 

It    expresses  .-•/»  •..  .        .  -,  ,.          -i.-ii 

:hom  by  sense-  material  forms,  the  imagination  creates  and  applies  the  ideals 
which  it  always  aims  but  always  fails  to  reach.  Whether 
the  medium  of  expression  be  language — the  language  of  gestures,  of 
looks,  of  tones,  or  of  articulate  speech — or  whether  it  be  lines,  or  color, 
or  solid  form  as  employed  by  the  draughtsman,  the  painter,  or  the  sculp- 
tor, it  is  all  the  same.  The  use  which  we  can  make  of  the  medium  is 
never  so  perfect  as  our  ideal  of  what  is  possible.  As  we.  have  noticed 


§  357.  REPRESENTATION. — THE   IMAGINATION.  361 

already,  every  such  medium,  physically  regarded,  falls  short  of  the 
psychical  perfection  which  we  can  conceive — i.  e.,  create — in  the  mind. 
When  this  medium  or  material  is  required,  not  only  to  set  forth  an  idea 
of  simple  outline,  form,  or  color,  but  to  represent  another  ideal  of  thought, 
feeling,  ai  d  passion,  then  it  is  found  to  be  doubly  true  that  the  ideals  which 
the  mind  can  frame,  do,  both  as  ideals  and  as  expressed,  rise  above  the 
reality  which  the  voice  or  hand  can  execute.  Hence  it  is  that  the  ideal 
excellence  of  the  poet,  the  orator,  the  actor,  the  musician,  and  the  artist, 
are  ever  higher  than  his  achievements — that  the  one  flees  before  the  other, 
as  its  shadow,  and  can  never  be  overtaken. 

The  products  of  §  35^-  ^ur  analysis  of  the  several  processes  of  the  creative 
a^nation!vw!St  imagination  has  prepared  us  more  exactly  to  understand  and 

more  precisely  to  define  the  nature  of  its  products.  The 
ideals  of  science  and  of  art,  of  achievement  and  of  duty,  are,  as  we  have 
seen,  the  products  of  that  form  of  psychical  activity  which  is  properly 
called  the  creative  imagination.  It  is  imaginative,  because  the  represen- 
tative or  imaging  power  is  conspicuously  prominent  in  its  functions.  It 
i?  creative,  because  there  is  no  counterpart  in  nature  from  which  its  ob- 
jects and  products  are  literally  transcribed  or  copied.  It  is  to  be  observed, 
however,  that  imaging  and  images  are  not  the  sole  elements  in  these  pro- 
cesses or  products.  The  imaging  power,  as  such,  is  limited  to  the  rep- 
resentation of  the  objects  of  actual  experience,  as  wholes  and  as  parts. 
The  rational  and  emotional  natures  are  absolutely  essential  to  its  existence 
and  its  exercise.  There  is  properly  no  creative  imagination  in  which  the 
reason  and  the  feelings  are  not  conspicuous,  and  in  which  rational  and 
emotional  relations  are  not  recognized  and  controlling.  Its  creative  func- 
tion is  rendered  possible  by  the  union  of  the  thinking  power  with  the 
imaging  power  ;  the  joint  action  of  both  resulting  in  these  ideal  products 
which  address  the  intellectual  and  emotional  nature. 

It  is  to  be  observed,  again,  that  the  so-called  images  which 

The    ideals    are  i  .         - 1  .  .   • 

not  images,  but  the  soul  is  said  to  create,  are  not  pictures  or  transcripts  from 
hTumited  reia-  any  sense-objects,  or  parts  of  sense-objects.  The  ideal  line, 
surface,  etc.,  of  the  mathematician  and  the  artist,  have  never 
existed  in  fact.  Nor  are  they  parts  of  real  lines  or  surfaces,  refined  or 
divided  from  them  by  the  analyzing  or  abstracting  power.  The  imagina- 
tion, when  it  creates,  does  not  picture  or  image  to  itself  a  line  without  breadth, 
or  surface  without  depth  ;  such  a  pictured  line  or  surface  are  as  impossible 
as  real  lines  and  surfaces  would  be.  What,  then,  does  the  imagination 
perform  wrhen  it  creates  its  so-called  ideal  surface  and  line  ?  It  picturei 
or  images  a  line  with  actual  breadth  and  a  surface  with  actual  thickness; 
and  contemplates-  them  in  certain  relations  to-  that  space,  which  is  the  con- 
dition of  their  existence  and  of  their  being  conceived  as  realities.  The 
power  to  isolate  this  single  relation — one  or  more — of  the  thing  or  its 
image,  is  that  which  enables  the  imagination  to  create  the  ideal  line  and 


•362  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §357- 

surface.  But  the  power  to  know  space  as  a  condition  of  extended  matter 
and  to  apprehend  existing  or  imaged  beings  as  holding  relations  to  space, 
and  to  isolate  one  of  these  space-relations,  is  attained  only  when  the  mind 
has  been  developed  by  the  generalizations  of  thought.  The  ideals  of  the 
mathematical  imagination  are  only  possible  to  the  imagination  when  it  hag 
been  disciplined  by  thought.  One  chalk  or  pencil  line  is  narrower  than  an- 
other, one  of  the  laminas  of  mica  is  thinner  than  another.  As  we  divide  these 
lines  and  cleave  off  these  laminae,  we  seem  to  approximate  to  the  ideal  line 
and  the  ideal  surface,  simply  because  the  senses  and  the  imagination  are 
less  distracted  and  occupied  with  sense  or  imaged  properties.  The  imagi- 
nation selects,  therefore,  the  line  or  surface  whose  thickness  is  least  ob- 
vious to  the  senses,  to  suggest  or  represent  the  sole  relation  to  space  with 
which  the  intellect  is  for  the  moment  concerned ;  or,  which  is  even  more 
satisfactory,  it  takes  for  a  point  an  object  whose  dimensions  are  the 
smallest  discernible  to  the  senses  or  picturable  to  the  imagination,  and 
considers  it  simply  as  moved  or  movable  directly  to  another  point  like 
itself,  and  thus  constructs  in  the  imagination  the  mathematical  line.  That 
is,  it  begins  with  an  object  or  an  image  as  far  removed  from  sense  as  pos- 
sible, and  uses  it  so  as  to  suggest  the  various  relations  which  extended  matter 
holds  to  space ;  or,  to  speak  more  exactly,  to  other  matter  extended  hi 
space.  By  the  imagined  motion  of  this  line,  it  proceeds  in  a  similar  way 
to  construct  the  surface,  etc.,  etc.  The  nature  of  the  act  and  the  char- 
acter of  tho  product,  in  all  these  cases,  depend  on  the  intellectual  appre- 
hension of  the  relations  of  material — i.  e.,  of  extended  objects,  to  space. 
The  approximation  of  the  actual  to  the  ideal  line  and  surface,  consists 
in  the  more  facile  suggestion  of  the  relations  in  question,  by  means  of 
one  rather  than  the  other. 

The  ideal  of  the  artist  depends  on  the  relations  of  outline, 

The  ideals  of  the  .       .         . 

artist;  and  in-  form,  color,  etc.,  etc.,  to  assthetic  pleasure;  whatever  may 
be  its  sources  and  kinds.  He  brings  the  lines,  the  model, 
the  picture,  as  nearly  as  his  materials  and  skill  will  allow  to  a  condition 
in  which  there  shall  be  no  drawbacks  to  the  pleasure  and  effect  which  are 
sought  for.  As  long  as  a  single  distracting  or  inconsistent  feature  or 
property  is  prominent,  so  long  is  his  ideal  unreached.  As  this  will 
always  be  the  case  from  defect  of  materials  or  defect  of  skill,  so  long 
will  it  be  true  that  he  can  never  make  his  work  absolutely  perfect, 
and  that  his  ideal  of  what  he  imagines  might  be  possible,  will  never  be 
reached. 

The  ideal  of  the  inventor  is  some  agent,  or  combination  of  agencies, 
that  are  freed  from  the  limitations  which  pertain  to  ordinary  machines  or 
instruments.  These  he  illustrates  to  himself  by  fondly  and  sometimes  obsti- 
nately conceiving  of  his  model  only  in  those  relations  of  adaptation  and 
capacity  which  he  knows  it  to  possess,  and  overlooking  or  denying  other 
limitations  to  which  it  is  liable. 


§3^8.  REPRESENTATION. THE   IMAGINATION.  368 

The  ideals  of  psychical  and  moral  attainment  suffer  undei 
etMcaiTdeai8and  limitations  of  another  sort.  With  certain  powers  given  in 
the  actual,  capable  of  results  which  are  in  fact  achieved,  and 
of  good  that  is  in  fact  enjoyed,  we  fix  our  attention  solely  upon  the  single 
capacity  in  question,  without  regard  to  the  limitations  which  in  fact  inter- 
fere with  its  achievements.  By  selecting  the  most  satisfying  example 
of  the  actual  which  we  can  find,  we  fix  our  attention  upon  those  relations 
which  we  desire  to  contemplate,  and  withdraw  our  attention  from  its  de- 
fects and  limitations,  till  it  stands  before  our  mind  as  an  ideal  example 
of  the  psychical  power  or  the  moral  excellence  which  wo  wish  exclusively 
to  contemplate. 

If  the  ideal  excellence  is  contemplated  as  an  attainable  end  of  our 
being,  or  is  enforced  by  the  authority  of  conscience  or  the  will  of  the 
Supreme,  then  that  which  was  a  conceivable  ideal  is  viewed  in  still  other 
relations.  It  is  accepted  as  real :  that  which  was  an  ideal  of  the  imagination 
is  believed  to  be  a  fact.  But  whether  these  ideals  do  or  do  not  represent 
realities,  the  process  by  which  they  are  created  into  psychical  products,  and 
the  products  created,  obey  the  same  psychological  laws  and  involve  the 
same  psychological  relations. 

The  result  of  this  analysis  is  but  another  illustration  of  the  interde- 
pendence of  all  the  powers  upon  one  another,  and  especially  of  the  higher 
functions  of  the  imagination  upon  thought  and  reason.  It  enforces  and 
explains  the  near  affinity  of  the  imaging  with  the  thought-power.  It  also 
indicates  the  advantage  which  language  and  music  may  have  over  paint- 
ing and  sculpture  in  expressing  and  suggesting  what  color  and  form  can- 
not convey  (cf.  §  365). 

ideals  founded  §  ^58.  These  truths  also  enable  us  to  understand  and  explain 
indtvSua^ex^e-  now  ^  happens  that  all  ideas,  however  refined  and  elevated, 
are  in  some  sense  founded  upon  and  related  to  the  actual 
experience  of  each  individual.  A  person  born  and  nurtured  upon  a  plain, 
who  had  never  seen  a  hill  or  a  mountain,  can  scarcely  imagine  the  charm 
to  the  eye  and  the  excitement  to  the  mind  which  such  scenery  imparts, 
and  would  be  quite  incapable  of  creating  ideal  pictures  suggested  by  such 
materials,  or  even  of  appreciating  them  when  framed  by  others.  One 
who  has  never  been  upon  the  sea,  can  neither  picture  to  himself,  nor  to 
others,  the  wild  sublimity  of  an  ocean  tempest.  The  Oriental,  basking  in 
the  heat  of  an  equatorial  sun,  and  always  surrounded  by  the  fruits,  the 
foliage,  and  the  flowers  that  such  a  sun  alone  can  nourish,  cannot  form  an 
ideal  picture  of  an  arctic  winter.  Nor  can  the  Scandinavian,  out  of  the 
pale  sunlight  of  his  brightest  days,  or  the  most  luxuriant  vegetation  of 
his  starveling  summer,  construct  an  adequate  representation  of  the  exube- 
rant life,  and  the  glowing  intensity  of  a  tropical  landscape. 

The  actual  life  of  every  painter  and  every  poet,  in  the  materials  which  it  furnishes,  rnugl 
largely  determine  'he  direction  and  characteristics  of  his  imaginative  power.  From  ta» 


364  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  359. 

writings  of  Dante,  of  Milton,  of  Scott,  and  of  Bunyan,  as  well  as  from  the  pictures  of  Raphael 
and  Murillo,  of  Gainsborough  and  Wilkie,  one  can  easily  conclude  as  to  the  place  of  their  birth, 
the  kind  of  education  which  they  received  from  the  books,  and  men,  and  scenery  with  which 
they  were  conversant.  Not  more  decisively  does  a  Japanese  or  Chinese  drawing  reveal  iti 
nationality,  than  do  the  workings  and  the  works  of  the  imagination  enable  us  to  interpret  the 
experience  and  observation  out  of  which  this  imagination  has  grown.  The  ideal  world  of 
every  great  artist,  however  high  it  may  tower,  or  however  largely  it  may  partake  of  the 
gorgeousness  of  cloud-land,  must  be  built  of  the  idealized  materials  of  his  actual  life  and 
history. 

The  imagination  §  359-  ^  follows  that  the  imagination  is  capable  of  steady 
growXandecui-  growth,  and  requires  constant  cultivation.  The  creative 
ture.  imagination,  when  most  gifted,  can  at  first  only  rise  to  a 

certain  height  above  the  materials  which  its  experience  gives.  Its  suc- 
ceeding essays  are  founded  upon  those  which  have  been  made  before,  and 
it  proceeds  by  successive  steps,  more  or  less  long  and  high,  till  it  attains 
the  most  consummate  achievements  that  are  ever  reached  by  man.  That 
there  is  a  striking  diversity  of  original  endowment,  cannot  be  doubted ; 
but  that  this  is  the  common  law  of  the  development  of  this  power,  can- 
not be  denied.  It  is  shown  to  be  clearly  true  from  the  nature  of  the 
power  itself,  as  well  as  from  the  history  of  those  who  have  been  most  dis- 
tinguished for  their  achievements  in  poetry,  fiction,  and  art. 

This  training  and  growth  are  not,  however,  occasional,  but  constant ;  they 
accompanies  all  are  not  the  results  of  separate  efforts,  which  are  consciously  directed  to  some 
acts.  psychical  definite  ends  of  creation,  but  are  the  consequents  of  an  activity  which  is 

spontaneous,  irrepressible,  and  often  excessive.  No  impression  can  be  more 
untrue  than  that  the  ordinary  activities  of  this  power  are  simply  to  represent  and  transcribe, 
while  it  is  by  occasional  sallies  that  it  idealizes  and  creates.  On  the  other  hand,  it  will  be 
found  to  be  true,  that,  even  in  its  apparent  transcriptions  and  its  most  faithful  and  vigorous 
efforts  to  recall  and  reproduce,  the  creative  activity  is  ever  ready  to  intrude.  In  the  person 
who  is  distinguished  as  idealistic  or  imaginative,  the  creative  power  is  always  active,  and  often 
overbears  and  displaces  the  clear  insight,  the  fixed  attention,  the  calm  and  patient  reflection, 
which  are  required  to  apprehend  and  recall  the  actual  with  literal  accuracy.  Indeed,  in  all 
ininds  the  creative  imagination  mingles  more  or  less  prominently  with  the  other  mental 
operations,  always  modifying  and  sometimes  greatly  disturbing  the  acting  of  these  powers  and 
their  results.  In  sense-perception,  the  imagination  too  often  selects  for  itself  what  it  will  see 
or  hear,  and  brings  a  report  accordingly  of  what  it  thinks  it  has  seen  and  heard.  After 
the  desires  are  grown  strong  and  the  character  is  fixed,  the  shaping  spirit  of  the  imagination 
enters  largely  into  the  perceptions  as  a  modifying  influence.  In  the  observations  of  conscious- 
ness, and  the  reports  which  it  records  of  what  it  has  seemed  only  to  observe,  the  same  influence 
and  the  same  effects  may  be  traced  of  its  creative  energy.  The  observation  and  the  record 
are  both  disturbed  by  the  power  to  notice  what  we  are  anxious  to  find,  and  to  leave  unobserved 
or  to  imagine  that  we  cannot  see,  what  we  do  not  wish  to  find  to  be  true.  In  the  act  of  re- 
calling for  ourselves  or  communicating  to  others,  what  we  may  have  actually  observed  or 
experienced  (even  si  pposing  the  original  observation  to  have  been  correctly  made),  the  creative 
imagination  often  intrudes,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  biassed  by  the  desire  to  please  our- 
selves or  our  fellow-men.  The  frequent  and  strange  untrustworthiness  of  the  memory,  can  be 
accounted  for  only  by  the  selecting  or  idealizing  activity  of  the  imagination,  when  it  seems  tc 
be  simply  recalling  the  actual  past.  Inasmuch  as  the  thought-power,  in  its  various  acts  of 


§361.  KEPKESENTATION. — THE   IMAGINATION.  365 

reaching  general  conceptions  and  conclusions,  chiefly  depends  on  the  fidelity  tf  the  representa 
live  power  in  reproducing  the  actual ;  whenever  it  creates  instead  of  recalling,  all  the  results 
of  thinking  must  be  disturbed.  In  this  way  the  imagination  may  and  does  enter  very  largely 
into  the  acts  of  generalization,  inference,  and  deduction ;  disturbing  and  misleading  all. 

§  360.  More  generally  we  may  say,  this  creative  power  is  developed  at  th« 
from  the  eariiest  earliest  period  of  our  existence,  and  is  busy  in  all  ages  and  conditions  of  out 
tiU-  d?Cf  rftest  human  life>  Childhood,  in  some  of  its  aspects,  is  the  most  literal  and  the 

most  observant  of  reality ;  yet  even  then  the  shaping  activity  of  the  imagina- 
tion is  always  busy,  filling  the  real  world  with  another  world  of  fancies  and  dreams.  The  most 
trivial  and  unsuitable  objects  are  sufficient  to  excite  its  action.  The  rude  and  unfinished  toy 
is  more  acceptable  to  the  child  than  the  more  costly  and  elaborate,  because  it  leaves  more  room 
for  the  constructive  power.  If  it  furnishes  resemblances  enough  to  act  as  points  of  support 
to  stay  and  steady  the  imagination,  it  is  all  the  better  if  the  greater  part  of  the  work  is  left 
for  this  to  complete  and  supply.  The  sports  and  plays  of  childhood  are  little  romances, 
prompted  and  acted  over  for  the  simple  exercise  and  delight  of  the  imagination.  In  later 
years  the  imagination  is  ever  busy,  not  only  in  the  occasions  which  are  set  apart  for  the 
exercise  of  its  functions,  but  quite  as  much  at  times  when  the  mind  seems  to  be  intent  only 
on  real  objects,  and  engrossed  with  what  are  termed  its  ordinary  and  practical  avocations. 
The  interest  which  each  man  takes  in  the  position  in  life  which  he  holds  or  aspires  after;  in 
his  employments,  his  friends,  and  associates ;  or  the  dislike  and  disgust  which  he  conceives  fos 
each  and  for  all,  arises  from  the  ideal  lights  with  which  the  imagination  invests  them.  The 
eye  of  the  painter  looks  every  landscape  into  a  picture,  and  idealizes  every  face  that  it  beholds  •, 
the  lover  "  sees  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt ;  "  the  day  dreamer  and  the  lunatic 
convert  actual  realities  into  visions,  or  visions  into  realities  ;  the  poet  is,  by  the  very  appella- 
tion, recognized  as  a  creator  of  beings  that  have  not  existed  before. 

Lovers  and  madmen  have  such  seething  brains, 

Such  shaping  fantasies,  that  apprehend 

More  than  cool  reason  ever  comprehends. 

The  lunatic,  the  lover,  and  the  poet 

Are  of  imagination  all  compact. 

One  sees  more  devils  than  vast  hell  can  hold — 

That  is  the  madman  :  the  lover,  all  as  frantic, 

Sees  Helen's  beauty  in  a  brow  of  Egypt : 

The  poet's  eye,  in  a  fine  frenzy  rolling, 

Doth  glance  from  heaven  to  earth,  from  earth  to  heaven, 

And,  as  imagination  bodies  forth 

The  forms  of  things  unknown,  the  poet's  pen 

Turns  them  to  shapes,  and  gives  to  airy  nothing 

A  local  habitation  and  a  name. 

Midsummer-Night's  Dream.    Act  v. 

§  361.  We  may  almost  say  that  Nature  herself  is  imaginative,  or  at  least  that 
W  ture  educates  ^v  some  °^  ner  ^P60*8  sne  prompts  and  quickens  the  training  of  the  imagina- 
the  imagination,  tion.  When  she  softens  the  distance  by  her  interposed  atmosphere,  or 

gives  unreal  and  picturesque  effects  by  her  wizard  mists,  when  she  gilds  the 
horizon  with  the  unnatural  lights  of  the  breaking  morning,  or  enwraps  it  in  the  glorious  pomp 
of  a  splendid  sunset,  she  institutes  contrasts  which  cannot  but  be  noticed  between  a  scene  in 
its  common  aspects  and  every  day  garments,  and  the  same  when  it  puts  on  ideal  appearances 
and  wears  its  holiday  attire. 

This  constant  activity  of  the  creative  power  explains  its  rapid  growth,  and  its  development 
into  the  capacity  for  sudden  and  surprising  achievements.  This  education  must,  from  the 
necessity  of  the  case,  be  in  great  measure  a  self-education ;  it  must  be  confined  to  the  indi. 
vidual  himself,  and  be  conducted  by  processes  that  can  be  watched  by  no  eye  but  his  own,  and 
issue  in  products  that  are  known  only  to  himself.  There  is  no  part  of  the  mind's  activity, 
also,  of  which  it  is  so  shy  to  communicate.  Its  secret  ideals,  its  private  romances,  its  vague 


368  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §363 

and  aimless  reveries,  its  fond  imaginings,  its  aspiring  and  audacious  dreamings,  are  guarded 
with  the  most  jealous  care.  And  yet,  upon  these  concealed  activities  every  man  expends  a 
large  portion  of  his  active  energy. 

The  educated  §  362*  Wnen  an  occasion  calls  for  the  manifestation  of  the  power  thui 
imagination  trained  and  matured,  it  acts  as  by  the  force  and  with  the  promptness  and 
igenties  which  precision  of  apparent  inspiration.  Whether  the  exigency  be  that  of  the 
call  it  forth.  artist,  the  poet,  or  the  inventor,  the  creative  power  formed  by  the  ceaseless 

activity  of  years  meets  its  requirements  from  the  resources  that  it  has  been  gradually  providing 
These  resources  may  consist  in  part  of  the  countless  creations  which  it  has  shaped  in  conneo* 
'  tion  with  its  perceptions  and  reveries,  and  which  are  again  summoned  back  by  the  memory 
when  first  these  images  are  needed.  In  such  a  case  the  imagination  does  not  so  much  create 
anew,  as  fall  back  upon  the  unknown  and  unnoticed  store  of  its  previous  idealizings.  As  the 
painter,  when  called  to  compose  a  landscape,  can  supply  some  needed  feature  by  recalling 
a  study  which  his  pencil  had  previously  sketched  at  the  sight  of  some  suggestive  object, 
BO  the  writer  in  the  excitement  of  composition,  or  the  speaker  in  a.  burst  of  unpremeditated 
eloquence,  can  avail  himself  of  a  striking  figure  that  was  originally  suggested  in  a  calmer 
mood — not  composing  so  much  as  recalling.  Or,  the  resources  brought  to  the  exigency  may 
be  the  dexterity  which  has  been  acquired  by  use,  and  which  dexterity  consists  in  the  power 
of  so  controlling  the  associating  power  that  it  shall  yield  the  very  materials  which  are  wanted 
for  the  imagination  to  work  upon,  and  in  having  so  matured  the  creating  power  that  as  soon 
as  it  knows  what  it  needs,  it  can  create  out  of  these  materials  the  ideal  which  it  requires. 

In  no  other  way  can  we  explain  the  rapidity,  the  precision,  and  the  success  with  which  the 
constructing  and  inventing  power  seems  to  act  when  it  is  tasked  to  its  utmost  energy  and 
produces  its  finest  results.  So  startling  is  this  energy  even  to  its  possessor,  so  ample  are  its 
resources,  and  so  wonderful  are  its  products  under  the  excitement  of  strong  feeling  or  deter- 
mined  motives,  that  its  workings  are  more  fitly  compared  to  inspiration  than  those  of  any 
other  endowment  of  the  soul.  But  the  rapidity  and  force  of  the  unconscious  actings  of  the 
soul  in  all  its  functions  are  phenomena  which  never  cease  to  surprise  and  astonish  us.  We 
are  now  prepared  to  understand  the 

Special  applications  of  the  imagination. — (a.)  The  poetic  imagination. 
The  imagination  §  363-  The  fact  has  been  noticed,  that  the  creative  imagina- 
modified  bydthe  ti°n  is  present  by  its  actings  with  all  the  other  powers  of  the 
other  powers.  g()u^  an(j  determines  the  character  of  their  products.  We 
have  also  seen,  in  our  analysis  of  ideals,  that  the  converse  is  also  true. 
All  these  powers  are  present  in  varied  proportions  and  energies  in  those 
activities  which  are  recognized  as  the  acts  of  the  imagination,  and  give  a 
varied  character  to  what  are  called  its  products,  whether  they  appear  in 
the  form  of  poetry,  fiction,  the  fine  arts,  or  philosophy. 

Of  these,  the  poetic  imagination  is  the  most  interesting,  and 
Slnationtic  **"  invites  to  a  special  analysis.  Poetry  may  be  defined,  that 

use  of  the  creative  power  which  is  employed  for  the  gratifi- 
cation of  the  emotional  nature  in  the  production  of  pictures  more  or  less 
elevating  in  their  associations,  which  are  fixed  and  expressed  by  means 
of  rhythmical  language.  When  the  ends  are  for  mere  amusement,  and 
the  associations  under  which  they  are  present,  and  the  emotions  which  they 
excite,  are  not  especially  ennobling,  the  poetic  imagination  is,  in  the 
language  of  later  critics,  called  the  fancy.  When  the  aims  are  higher 
than  simple  gratification,  and  therefore  involve  more  elevated  association? 


§363.  REPRESENTATION. THE    IMAGINATION.  367 

and  feelings,  it  is  dignified  as  the  imagination  by  eminence,  or  the 
imagination.  The  adjective  imaginative  follows  very  closely  this  higher 
sense  of  the  word. 

The  sources  from  which  the  poetic  power  derives  its  materials  are  as  nu- 
The  sources  or  merous  and  extensive  as  the  universe  of  matter  and  of  spirit,  and  yet  but  few 
poetry "  °f  these  materials  subserve  the  proper  aims  of  the  poet.  While  the  poet 

may  lawfully  appropriate  truth  of  every  kind,  provided  it  serves  his  purpose, 
yet  it  is  preeminently  that  truth  which  holds  or  may  be  made  to  assume  some  relation  to  man 
which  is  of  use  in  poetry.  Mere  pictures,  as  pictures,  however  varied  and  beautiful  they  may 
be,  scarcely  become  poetic  even  for  the  fancy,  unless  some  human  interest  or  relation  belongs 
or  is  imparted  to  them.  The  incidents  of  human  life,  or  the  feelings  of  the  human  soul,  must 
somehow  enter  into  the  scene,  or  the  truly  poetic  interest  is  wanting. 

This  human  truth,  which  these  pictures  suggest,  illustrate,  or  enforce,  must 
Preeminent-  ^e  *^a*  w^c^  ™  witnm  ^ie  comprehension  and  reach  of  all  men.  It  is  not 
ly  human  truth,  the  truth  of  the  schools,  nor  of  any  special  and  limited  society,  nor  that 

which  is  capable  of  being  conveyed  in  abstract  or  technical  words  or  under- 
stood by  a  select  few  after  a  special  training,  but  it  is  the  truth  which  is  open  and  intelligible 
to  all  men  (upon  certain  impliedly  and  easily  recognized  conditions).  This  is  the  first  of  the 
three  characteristics  which  are  recognized  by  Milton  in  his  brief  description  of  poetry  aa 
"  simple,  sensuous,  and  passionate." 

Poetry  should  indeed  be  simple,  because  its  products  are  designed  for  the  use 
Poetry  aim-  of  all  men;  and  its  images,  thoughts,  and  words  should  be  easily  compre- 
and  passionate?'  hended  by  all  who  have  attained  certain  advantages  of  culture,  and  have  been 

trained  to  a  certain  degree  of  thought  and  feeling.  It  should  also  be  senwous 
— that  is,  it  deals  with  images,  not  with  generalized  and  scholastic  language.  It  presents 
pictures  to  the  mind's  eye,  not  refined  and  subtle  reasonings  to  the  thought-powers.  It  introduces 
action  into  every  scene.  It  is  eminently  concrete  and  picturesque.  It  should  also  be  passion- 
ate— in  e^  its  simple  and  pictured  truth  should  come  from  a  soul  that  is  animated  by  warm  and 
elevated  emotions.  The  presence  of  feeling  as  a  requisite  of  all  that  composition  which  is 
called  imaginative,  is  not  always  recognized  so  distinctly  as  it  deserves  to  be.  Without  feeling, 
and,  in  general,  without  feeling  of  a  higher  kind,  the  mere  power  to  create  is  of  little 
worth,  and  its  results  are  of  little  interest.  Indeed,  without  it  the  power  will  not  be  so  matured 
into  a  predominant  energy,  or  be  so  regulated,  as  to  become  a  ready  instrument  at  the  service  of 
its  possessor.  But  with  it,  the  creation  of  the  kind  of  pictures  in  which  the  emotions  delight, 
becomes  a  pastime  and  an  occupation,  and  poetry  is  to  the  poet  its  own  "  exceeding  great 
reward."  Inasmuch  as  only  the  higher  emotions  act  with  a  steady  and  intellectual  pressure  in 
the  refined  occupation  of  poetic  culture  and  composition,  the  images  which  association  presents 
and  the  imagination  detains  and  reconstructs,  are  of  an  elevated  character ;  they  assume  the 
lofty  and  ennobling  character  of  ideals  in  the  better  sense  of  the  word.  Hence  it  becomes 
se  generally  true  that  poetry  is  almost  necessarily  elevating  in  its  nature  and  influence. 
B  ?nce  it  haa  been  held  to  have  something  in  it  that  was  divine. 

"  Therefore,  because  the  acts  or  wants  of  true  history  have  not  that  magnitude  which  satisfieth  the 
irdnd  of  man,  poesy  feigneth  acts  and  events  greater  and  more  heroical ;  because  true  history  propoundeth 
the  successes  and  issues  of  actions,  not  so  agreeable  to  the  merits  of  virtue  and  vice,  therefore  poesy  feigns 
tbem  more  just  in  retribution,  and  more  according  to  revenled  Providence  ;  because  true  history  repre- 
nenteth  actions  and  events  more  ordinary  and  less  interchanged,  therefore  poesy  indueth  them  with  more 
rareness,  and  more  unexpected  and  alternative  variations ;  so  it  appeareth  that  poesy  serveth  and  con- 
fonneth  to  magnanimity,  morality,  and  to  delectation.  And  therefore  it  was  ever  thought  to  have  some 
participation  of  divineness,  because  it  doth  raise  and  erect  the  mind,  by  submitting  the  shows  of  things  to 
the  desires  of  the  mind ;  whereas,  reason  doth  buckle  and  bow  the  inmd  unto  the  nature  of  things.  And 
we  see  that  by  these  insinuations  and  congruities  with  man's  nature  and  pleasure,  joined  also  with  th« 
ngreement  and  concert  it  hath  with  music,  it  hath  had  access  and  estimation  in  rude  times  and  barbaroui 
regie  is,  when  other  learning  stood  excluded."  (Lord  Bacon,  Advancement  of  Learning,  B.  ii.) 


368  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  g  364 

The  poetic  imagination,  in  its  higher  forms,  is  often  described  as  a  fusing  and 
Poetry,  in  its  unifying  power.  It  subjects  all  its  materials  to  single  and  commanding  objects. 
uiStes^and^uses!  Ifc  unites  and  blends  them  under  the  overmastering  power  of  some  controlling 

passion  or  commanding  purpose.  It  fills  up  the  field  of  view  with  images 
appropriate  to  its  thoughts  and  feelings,  everywhere  seeking  and  everywhere  finding  something 
relating  to  its  controlling  sentiment  or  purpose.  It  turns  inanimate  things  into  living  beings, 
It  invests  them  with  the  attributes,  and  imparts  to  them  the  feelings  which  are  congenial  to  th« 
thoughts  and  aims  which  are  all-engrossing  to  itself.  These  phenomena  are  not  characteristic 
of  the  poetic  imagination  as  an  image-making  power,  but  are  to  be  ascribed  to  that  peculiar 
elevation  of  feeling  and  consequent  quickening  of  the  intellect  which  enters  so  largely  into 
poetic  genius,  and  which  prompts  to  its  creative  power. 

When  the  image-making  power  simply  plays  or  sports  with  images  for  their 
In  its  lower,  it  picturesque  effects  and  the  amusement  which  they  give — when  its  ends  are 
scatters!8  amusement  or  illustration  only,  it  is  called  the  fancy,  which  abounds  in  images, 

indeed,  but  lacks  the  loftier  attributes  of  the  higher  imagination.  Fancy 
scatters  and  relaxes  the  attention,  rather  than  concentrates  and  holds  it.  It  pleases  rather  than 
elevates  ;  it  relaxes  and  weakens  rather  than  gives  tone  and  energy.  It  passively  submits  to  the 
disposal  of  the  objects  which  surround  it,  rather  thaM  disposes  them  at  its  will,  and  subjects 
them  to  its  control.  It  is  borne  hither  and  thither  at  the  capricious  suggestions  of  the 
objective  world ;  the  imagination  by  the  force  of  its  aVong  emotions  subjects  these  objects 
to  itself,  and  makes  them  seem  to  be  what  it  wills. 

It  is  peculiar  to  the  poetic  imagination  that  language  is  its  medium.  It  is  not 
Its  medium  is  essential  that  this  language  should  be  metrical;  though  a  rhythmic  move- 
language,  ment,  and  the  regular  return  of  similar  syllables  in  measured  accent  heighten 

greatly  its  effects.  The  poetic  power  is  also  shared  by  the  novelist,  the 
dramatist,  and  the  orator.  But  poetry  must  always  employ  language,  and  in  this  respect  it 
essentially  differs  from  painting,  sculpture,  and  even  music.  Painting  and  sculpture  create  images 
indeed,  but  they  fix  them  permanently  upon  the  canvas  or  embody  them  in  marble.  But 
poetry  can  only  suggest  them  by  woras  ;  it  portrays  its  images  only,  as  by  words  it  wakens  in 
the  imagination  of  another  images  similar  to  those  which  the  poet  himself  conceives.  If  the 
imagination  that  receives  is  feeble,  slow,  and  perverse,  it  is  in  vain  that  the  poet  tries  to  excite 
it  to  follow  his  lead.  But  if  it  is  strong,  quick,  and  sympathizing,  it  may  be  aroused  by  the 
words  of  the  poet  to  finer  creations  than  even  the  poet  himself  has  known.  The  suggestive 
power  of  words  gives  to  the  poet  a  marvellous  advantage  in  the  greater  breadth  of  his>  field  and 
the  variety  of  his  effects.  The  painter  and  sculptor  apparently  present  all  their  work  to  the  eye. 
It  is  true  that  this  work  is  better  appreciated  by  one  eye  than  another.  In  one  sense  it  takes 
an  artist  to  interpret  an  artist ;  but  even  with  this  allowance,  the  range  of  the  indications  is 
narrow,  and  the  possibility  of  manifold  suggestions  is  limited.  But  words  have  a  capacity  to 
suggest  more  than  they  directly  convey,  and  hence  to  take  up  into  their  import  a  multitude 
of  pictures  according  to  the  variety  of  uses  to  which  they  are  applied.  The  word  whose 
literal  import  is  prosaic,  trivial,  or  mean,  when  used  by  genius  in  a  new  application,  becomes 
poetic,  picturesque,  and  elevating.  The  material  which  in  common  use  is  cold,  conventional, 
and  dry,  has  power,  by  dexterous  combinations,  to  awaken  delightful  imagery,  and  to  kindle 
exalted  associations.  In  this  way  language  itself  becomes  permanently  enriched  and  elevated 
by  the  fact  that  it  has  been  employed  by  men  of  poetic  genius. 

(b.)  The  philosophic  imagination. 

Relations  of  the  §  364r*  The  relation  of  the  imagination  to  thought  has  been 
d-  the  subject  of  much  discussion,  and  has  given  rise  to  no 
little  diversity  of  opinion.  Many  have  contended  that  its 
influence  is  unfavorable  to  the  operations  of  the  intellect  in  the  discover)1 


§365.  REPRESENTATION. THE   IMAGINATION.  369 

of  truth ;  that  it  distracts  the  attention,  biasses  and  misleads  the  judg- 
ment, and  disqualifies  for  any  of  the  reasoning  processes.  On  the  other 
hand,  the  fact  is  undisputed  that  the  men  who  have  been  most  distin- 
guished in  philosophy,  especially  as  discoverers  or  inventors,  have  been 
remarkable  for  reach  and  glow  of  imagination.  Indeed,  we  may  safely 
say  that  in  the  history  of  speculation  and  science  not  a  man  can  be  found 
who  was  distinguished  for  philosophic  genius  who  did  not  possess  an 
active  and  a  glowing  imagination,  and  whose  imagination  did  not  render 
essential  service  in  the  operations  of  thought.  Striking  examples  of  the 
combination  of  the  poetic  imagination  with  eminent  philosophical  genius  are 
numerous.  We  name  Plato,  Kepler,  Galileo,  Bacon,  Newton,  Leibnitz, 
Davy,  Owen,  Faraday,  and  Agassiz.  A  moment's  reflection  will  show 
that  this  must  necessarily  be  true.  The  objects  of  present  observation 
must  always  be  limited  in  number.  They  must  reappear  in  the  form  of 
representations.  The  facts  with  which  the  philosopher  has  to  do  must 
come  to  him  in  the  form  of  images,  when  he  would  discern  their  various 
relations  and  subject  them  to  the  processes  of  thought.  It  is  important 
that  these  should  be  readily  presented.  This  can  only  happen  when  the 
associative  power  is  wide  in  its  range  of  relations,  and  quick  in  its  action. 
These  qualities  almost  invariably  accompany,  if  they  do  not  necessarily 
involve,  great  energy  of  the  creative  power. 

But  whatever  may  be  thought  of  the  relations  of  a  vivid 

Relations  to  in-     ...  _        .  .  .  ,  .    ,      ~ 

vention  and  dis-  imagination  to  the  memory,  as  furnishing  the  materials  for 
the  philosopher,  there  can  be  no  question  that  to  invention 
it  is  entirely  essential ;  indeed,  that,  without  an  active  imagination 
philosophic  invention  and  discovery  are  impossible.  To  invent  or  discover, 
is  always  to  recombine.  It  is  to  adjust  in  new  positions,  objects  or  parts 
of  objects  which  have  never  been  so  connected  before.  The  discoverer 
of  a  new  solution  for  a  problem,  or  a  new  demonstration  for  a  theorem  in 
mathematics,  the  inventor  of  a  new  application  of  a  power  of  nature 
already  known,  or  the  discoverer  of  a  power  not  previously  dreamed  of, 
the  discoverer  of  a  new  argument  to  prove  or  deduce  a  truth  or  of  a  new 
induction  from  facts  already  accepted,  the  man  who  evolves  a  new  principle 
or  a  new  definition  in  moral  or  political  science — must  all  analyze  and  re- 
combine  in  the  mind  things,  acts,  or  events,  with  their  relations,  in 
positions  in  which  they  have  never  been  previously  observed  or  thought 
of.  This  recombination  is  purely  mental.  If  there  be  a  discovery  or  inven- 
tion, there  has  never  before  been  such  a  juxtaposition  of  the  materials 
nor  of  their  parts  in  the  world  of  fact  or  in  the  thoughts  of  men.  These 
objects  and  parts  are  now  for  the  first  time  brought  together  in  the  mind 
— i.  e.,  the  imagination  of  the  discoverer.  Every  discovery  is,  in  fact,  a 
work  of  the  creative  imagination. 

It  is  tme  the  power  of  thought  must  attend  the  operation.    Unless  the  representations  and' 
combinations  are  made  and  regulated  with  reference  to  the  ends  of  thought,  they  will  ba 
24 


370  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT,  g  ^65 

made  in  vain.  But  the  range  of  these  pictured  objects  must  be  wide ,  every  one  of  then 
must  be  vividly  conceived,  that  all  the  attributes,  and  analogies,  and  relation*  may  come  before 
the  eye  of  the  mind.  The  more  vividly  this  presentation  is  made,  provided  the  processes 
of  analysis  ard  comparison  go  on  with  equal  energy,  the  wider  is  the  field  of  discovery  and 
the  greater  is  the  chance  of  success.  We  have  already  observed  that  there  are  as  many  forms 
of  memory  as  there  are  distinguishable  types  of  mental  activity  ;  that  whatever  the  mind  ifl 
apt  and  active  to  apprehend,  it  must  necessarily  be  quick  and  faithful  to  reproduce.  By  the 
same  rule,  whatever  be  its  power  to  analyze  and  recombine,  it  must  be  able  with  the  greater 
facility,  to  imagine  as  analyzed  and  readjusted,  the  imagination  following  the  measure  of  the 
mind's  presentative  power.  There  are  as  many  forms  of  imagination  as  there  are  forms  of 
creation  or  invention.  Whatever  the  mind  can  part  and  unite  with  the  original  object  before 
itself,  it  can  also  separate  and  combine  with  greater  advantage  when  it  is  recalled  as  an  image. 
The  world  of  images  is  also  far  more  plastic  than  the  world  of  reality.  Its  materials  come 
and  go  more  quickly  than  real  objects.  More  can  be  crowded  at  once  into  the  field  of  view. 
The  mental  analysis  and  synthesis  required,  can  be  more  rapidly  performed  upon  the  shadows 
which  the  mind  summons  to  its  service,  than  upon  the  things  which  it  can  slowly  call  up  and 
slowly  survey. 

The  poetical  ^u*  *nere  are  sPeci^  reasons  why  the  peculiar  type  of  the  imagination  which 
and  philosophi-  the  poet  requires  is  closely  allied  to  that  which  gives  genius  to  the  philoso- 
cal  imagination  imii-i...  «  «  «  i  • 

nearly    allied.        pher.     To  the  higher  imagination,  as  required  by  poets  and  orators,  there  is 

always  requisite  the  power  to  interpret  the  indications  or  analogies  of  the 
beings  and  phenomena  which  they  observe.  The  resemblances  which  the  imagination  is  quick 
to  notice  and  to  apply  to  the  ends  of  metaphor  and  passion,  are  more  or  less  nearly  allied  to 
those  powers  and  laws  which  philosophy  seeks  to  develop  and  establish.  Every  poetic 
metaphor  that  is  worthy  to  be  so  called,  is  founded  on  some  truth  of  reason,  and  serves  to 
indicate  some  power  or  law.  The  intensity  of  interest  that  fixes  and  holds  the  mind  in  the 
patient  attention  of  the  philosopher  is  closely  allied  to  that  strongly  absorbed  and  controlling 
enthusiasm  which  holds  the  poet  to  the  images  which  his  fancy  summons  or  creates.  Both 
dwell  in  such  a  world  with  an  enthusiasm  which  is  not  easily  understood  by  others.  That 
which  maintains  the  interest  of  each,  is  the  passion  of  each  for  the  image-world  which  he  re- 
creates. That  which  gives  to  each  his  mastery  over  this  world,  is  the  familiarity  which  results 
from  long-continued  practice  in  calling  up  its  objects  and  in  moulding  them  at  his  will.  Such 
a  mastery,  arising  from  such  a  continuity  of  effort,  can  only  be  attained  by  that  passionate 
interest  which  is  the  secret  of  genius,  whether  genius  labors  for  the  ends  of  scientific  or  poetio 
truth  ;  whether  the  end  for  which  it  labors  is  the  truth  of  science  that  addresses  the  in- 
tellect, or  the  truth  of  feeling  which  controls  the  heart. 

The  objection  will  still  be  urged,  that  the  exuberant  and  passionate  imagina- 
uWections  to  ^on  may'  ^y  *ne  attractiveness  of  the  imagery  which  it  creates,  withdraw  the 
this  view.  mind  from  the  soberness  of  scientific  truth;  that  what  might  be  gained  in 

the  abundance  of  material  and  the  vivacity  with  which  it  is  brought  before 
the  mind,  is  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the  distracting  and  bewildering  influences  which 
follow.  Or  at  least  it  will  be  said,  the  poetic  imagination  will  fill  the  mind  with  delusive 
phantasms  in  the  form  of  attractive  theories,  and  forbid  it  to  judge  of  its  theories  by  the 
dry  and  severe  light  of  reason.  There  may  be  danger  here  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  where 
the  imagination  is  poor  and  the  analogies  are  few,  the  mind  is  narrow,  prejudiced,  and  obsti 
nate.  The  a  bstractions  of  science  are  personified  into  essential  beings  and  actual  powers.  If 
the  imagination  tempts  to  excessive  theorizing,  it  also  precludes  and  prevents  it,  by  the  vivic 
iense  of  reality  which  it  inspires,  by  the  strong  desire  to  illustrate  and  exemplify  by  some 
pertinent  fact  or  appropriate  instance,  and  by  the  readiness  with  which,  from  its  abundant 
resources,  it  can  bring  them  forth  for  all  its  occasions.  There  is  no  danger  to  science  so 
serious  and  constant  as  that  from  an  overweening  tendency  to  abstraction,  which  fills  the 
intellectual  world  with  artificial  nypostases  that  have  no  ground  in  reality,  and  become  thi 


§367.  REPRESENTATION. — THE  IMAGINATION.  371 

idols  of  their  originator,  and  those  who  constitute  his  school.  Against  this  tendency  there  is 
no  correction  so  effectual  as  the  honest  and  hearty  realism  of  a  vivid,  active,  and  fertile  im- 
agination, when  employed  in  the  service  of  truth. 

§366.    In  the  communication  of  scientific  truth  there  can 

In  communica-     ,  ...... 

ting  philosophic  be  no  question  that  a  large  measure  of  imagination  is  of 
essential  service.  He  that  would  amply  illustrate,  poweu. 
fully  defend,  or  effectively  enforce  the  principles  and  truths  of  science,  is 
greatly  aided  by  a  brilliant  imagination.  This,  of  all  other  gifts,  delivers 
him  from  that  tendency  to  the  dry  and  abstract,  to  the  general  and  the 
remote,  to  which  the  expounder  of  science  is  continually  exposed  from  his 
familiarity  with  principles  which  are  strange  to  his  pupils  and  readers,  and 
which  need  to  be  continually  explained  and  illustrated  by  fresh  and  various 
examples.  The  philosophic  writer  or  teacher  who  is  gifted  with  imagina- 
tion is  more  likely  to  be  clear  in  statement,  ample  in  illustration,  pertinent 
in  his  application  and  exciting  in  his  enforcement  of  the  truths  with  which 
his  science  is  conversant,  whatever  may  be  the  subject-matter  with  which 
the  science  is  concerned. 

(c.)   The  ethical  imagination. 

8  367.    The  practical  or  ethical  uses  of  the  imagination  are 

Ethical  relations  ,      ,         A     ,        mi  „    .        .         ,      . 

of  the  imagma-  numerous  and  elevated.  Inese  are  sufficiently  obvious  from 
the  single  consideration,  that  the  law  of  duty  is  and  must  be 
an  ideal  law:  for  whether  it  is  or  is  not  fulfilled,  it  must  precede  the  act 
which  reaches  or  falls  short  of  itself.  Every  ethical  rule  must  be  a  men- 
tal creation,  an  ideal  formed  by  the  creative  power,  and  held  before  the 
soul  as  a  guide  and  law.  Asserting,  as  we  do,  that  this  law,  in  general, 
is  the  same  in  its  import  for  all  men — so  that,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  ha 
agination  of  every  one  must  create  the  same  general  ideal  rule,  it  remains 
true  that  the  practical  ideal  of  every  one  is  peculiar  to  himself,  and  shared 
by  no  other  person.  This  ideal,  so  far  as  the  particulars  of  his  character 
and  life  are  concerned,  may  vary  both  in  its  import  and  in  the  vividness 
with  which  this  import  is  conceived.  What  each  man  may  become  in 
this  and  that  respect,  in  wealth,  position,  knowledge,  power,  etc.,  is  the 
romantic  ideal  of  youth  and  the  pleasant  dream  of  later  years.  The 
aspirations  of  endeavor,  the  visions  of  hope,  and  the  romances  of  pure 
reverie  which  express  more  than  we  dare  aspire  after  or  hope  to  effect, 
are  obviously  the  work  of  the  creative  imagination.  If  these  are  con- 
formed to  a  just  ideal  of  life  and  character,  they  are  most  elevating  in 
their  influence.  If  they  are  consistent  with  the  conditions  of  our  human 
nature  and  our  human  life,  if  they  are  conformed  to  the  physical  and  moral 
laws  of  our  nature,  and  the  government  and  will  of  God,  they  are  healthful 
and  ennobling.  Such  ideals  can  scarcely  be  too  high,  or  too  ardently  and 
steadfastly  adhered  to.  But  if  they  are  false  in  their  theory  of  life  and 
happiness,  if  they  are  untrue  to  the  conditions  of  our  actual  existence,  if 
they  involve  the  disappointment  of  our  hopes,  and  discontent  with  real 


372  THE   HUMAJS    INTELLECT.  §  368. 

life,  they  are  the  bane  of  all  enjoyment,  and  fatal  to  true  happiness.  The 
brief  excitement  which  these  unreal  dreams  occasion,  however  highly 
wrought  this  excitement  may  be,  is  a  poor  offset  to  the  painful  contrast! 
which  they  necessarily  involve. 

It  is  not  what  we  actually  attain  or  possess  that  makes  us  happy  or  wretched, 

ideals3"  *  "to  ^  our  bufc  what  we  tlimk  is  essential>  or  possible,  or  just  for  ourselves  to  attain, 
happiness.  The  ideal  standard  for  ourselves  by  which  we  measure  our  attainments  in  al) 

these  respects,  is  that  which  has  the  most  to  do  with  satisfaction  or  discon- 
tent. It  is  of  little  consequence  what  a  man  has,  if  he  imagines  that  he  must  have  some- 
thing  more  in  order  to  be  truly  happy.  He  cannot  be  content  if  this  is  wanting ;  if  he 
dreams  that  something  more  is  justly  his  due,  his  discontent  will  be  aggravated  with  a  sense 
of  injustice  from  his  friends  or  his  fellow-men ;  from  society,  from  nature,  or  from  God.  If  his 
ideal  is  rational  and  just,  still  more  if  his  theory  of  life  teaches  him  to  find  satisfaction  in 
those  sources  of  good  which  are  open  to  all,  in  occupation,  in  worthy  pleasures,  and  in  the 
exercise  and  interchange  of  the  social  and  kind  affections,  he  cannot  easily  be  robbed  of  con- 
tent  and  happiness.  If  his  ideal  contemplates  self-sacrifice,  suffering,  and  evil,  as  possible 
conditions  of  good,  he  will  be  still  more  secure  of  a  happy  life.  If  it  reaches  forward  to 
another  scene  of  existence,  and  brings  before  him  the  blessedness  of  a  character  perfected  by 
suffering  and  made  fit  for  the  purest  and  noblest  society  conceivable,  his  happiness  on  earth 
may  even  be  augmented  by  disappointment,  sorrow,  and  pain. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  these  ideals  are  factitious  or  unreasonable,  they  become  the  source 
of  constant  wretchedness.  If  a  man  to  be  happy,  must  be  as  rich  or  as  fashionable,  as  suc- 
cessful or  as  accomplished  as  he  dreams  of,  all  his  actual  enjoyments  pass  for  little  or  nothing 
till  his  ideal  desires  are  gratified.  These  are  the  standard  by  which  he  measures  his  good 
Without  reaching  this  standard,  he  cannot  be  satisfied.  While,  on  the  other  hand,  the  mat. 
who  never  aspires  can  never  rise ;  while  even  romantic  hopes  and  wishes  have  much  that  is 
quickening  and  elevating  in  their  influence,  it  is  equally  essential  that  all  ideals  of  happiness 
should  be  conformed  to  truth,  and  should  propose  objects  that  are  approved  of  conscience, 
of  the  ordinances  of  nature,  and  the  will  of  God. 

S  368.    These  ideals  of  life  and  happiness  must  involve  a 

Ideals     of     life     '  .  ,  -rrr 

necessarily  ethi-  more  or  less  positively  ethical  character.  We  cannot  im- 
agine what  we  are  to  be  and  to  become  in  fortune  and 
success,  without  including  more  or  less  distinctly  what  we  ought  to  be  in 
character  and  to  perform  in  action.  Even  if  our  general  ideal  be  con- 
formed to  the  law  of  duty,  our  imagination  in  particular  of  what  a 
virtuous  man  should  be  in  feeling  and  in  action,  may  be  very  imperfect,  or 
even  very  false.  It  may  overlook  many  real  excellencies,  and  tolerate  many 
defects,  through  ignorance,  false  education,  and  corrupt  public  opinion, 
or  our  own  vicious  tastes  and  inclinations.  We  may,  in  our  imaginations, 
fall  far  below  the  elevation  of  a  just  ideal  of  what  a  man  should  be,  to  be 
courteous,  self-sacrificing,  patriotic,  friendly,  hospitable,  gentlemanly,  or 
even  honest,  veracious,  and  upright.  But  whatever  these  ideals  are, 
whether  they  are  false  or  true,  elevated  or  low,  they  will  be  certain  to  exert 
a  most  healthful  or  a  most  baneful  influence  upon  the  character.  They  fijr- 
nish  a  standard  that  is  constantly  present,  and  constantly  active  to  lift  us 
upward  or  to  drag  us  downwaid.  Hence,  in  a  certain  sense,  what  a  mao 
aspires  to  become,  has  ethically  already  decided  what  he  is.  His  aims  and 


§  369.  HEPRESENTATION. THE  IMAGINATION.  873 

standard  are  the  reflex  of  his  wishes  and  his  will,  as  well  as  the  assurance 
of  what  he  can  achieve  in  the  future. 

The  ideal  standard  of  duty  may  be  constantly  corrected  and  improved.     From 

Ideals   of   duty    j^  own  experience  of  the  effects  of  acts  or  habits,  or  his  observation  of  these 

may  be  changed 

tnd  improved.        effects  in  others,  a  man  may  supply  what  he  has  omitted  to  observe,  or  correct 

that  in  which  he  has  erred,  and  so  advance  to  a  higher  and  more  perfect  rule 
of  feeling,  of  manners,  and  of  life.  In  this  way  a  community  may  rise  or  sink,  may  advance 
or  go  backward.  Every  man,  by  his  good  life,  by  the  realization  of  what  is  good  in  himself, 
and  his  more  perfect  manifestation  of  it  in  all  appropriate  and  beautiful  acts,  may  advance  the 
ideals  of  others.  The  contemplation  of  fictitious  characters,  elevated  and  ennobled  by  ideal 
beauty,  serves  to  quicken  and  enforce  the  ethical  ideal  of  thousands  of  susceptible  minds.  The 
poet,  the  novelist,  and  the  dramatist,  quicken  the  fervor,  and  instruct  the  minds,  and  elevate 
the  tastes  of  their  readers.  The  ideals  of  a  community  or  of  a  man,  both  express  and  form 
its  ethical  life,  whether  for  evil  or  for  good. 

(d.)  Imagination  and  religious  faith. 

§369.    The  relation  of  the  imagination  to  relisrious  faith  is 

Relation  of  the     1  .  .,     .  _,, 

imagination    to    interesting  and   important.     Ihe   objects   of  our  faith,   by 

religious  faith.  .  &,    „    .   .       r,  v     V  v 

their  very  definition,  have  never  been  subjected  to  direct  or 
intuitive  knowledge.  Neither  sense-perception  nor  self-consciousness,  have 
confronted  them  directly  or  brought  report  of  them.  And  yet  the  imagi- 
nation pictures  these  objects  as  real  and  most  important.  What  are  the 
materials  which  it  parts  and  reunites  ?  Whence  the  suggestions  which  it 
idealizes  into  more  refined  and  spiritual  essences  ?  By  what  authority 
does  it  invest  these  creations  with  verisimilitude  and  impose  them  upon 
the  assent  of  the  intellect,  as  representing  the  most  real  and  important 
of  all  truths  ?  What  analogies  are  there  between  the  finite  and  the  infi- 
nite which  authorize  the  imagination  to  use  the  one  to  symbolize  the 
other,  and  justify  its  faith  in  its  own  symbolic  creations  ? 
We  must  im-  ®f  the  Divine  Being — of  self-existence,  of  unlimited  power 
L§reeveaLWs5Li£  an<^  knowledge,  of  creative  and  preserving  energy,  of  fore- 
cast and  providence,  we  have  no  direct  experience.  All  our 
direct  apprehensions  of  spiritual  attributes  and  relations  are  of  the  limited 
only.  It  is  by  the  limited  that  we  reach  the  unlimited  even  in  thought. 

Conceding  that  we  can  conceive  the  infinite,  can  we  also  image  our 
concepts?  (§  427.)  We  cannot.  The  sphere  of  the  imagination  is  only 
the  finite.  All  the  pictures  which  it  can  construct  are  of  limited  objects, 
[t  is  by  m.  ans  only  of  such  pictures  that  it  can  image  its  concepts  of  the 
infinite,  if  it  attempts  to  image  them  at  all.  That  it  attempts  thus  to 
image  them,  is  evident.  That  it  can  adequately  picture  them,  no  man  be- 
lieves. What  is  embraced  in  the  concept  is  the  known  likeness  between 
the  finite  and  infinite.  What  is  pictured  by  the  image,  is  some  limited 
example  of  the  thought-relation  which  the  image  suggests.  These  pictures 
may  be  increased  in  number,  extent,  or  energy,  but  this  is  all. 

Existence,  power,  knowledge,  origination,  foresight  ; — all  these  we 
say  and  belit  re  are  both  finite  and  infinite.  They  are  in  some  sense  familial 


374  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §370 

to  our  experience,  and  we  conceive  and  know  them.  But  when  we  seek 
to  image  them  as  infinite,  we  select  some  examples  that  illustrate  these 
attributes  ;  we  choose  an  image  from  the  finite  to  give  life  and  reality  to 
the  concept  of  that  which  we  believe  to  be  unlimited  in  respect  to  its 
sphere  and  energy.  The  kind  of  existence  and  the  manner  of  activity 
which  we  would  image,  we  assume  to  be  within  our  experience.  As  we 
have  already  seen,  the  materials  at  the  service  of  the  imagination  when 
it  has  to  do  with  spiritual  beings,  must  come  from  our  personal  con- 
sciousness. But  this  consciousness  has  direct  knowledge  only  of 
limited  powers  and  acts.  Independence  of  being,  eternity  of  continu- 
ance, superiority  to  space,  unlimitedness  of  power  and  knowledge,  can- 
not be  imaged  by  any  thing  which  we  directly  know.  They  can  only  in  a 
sense  be  approximatively  imaged  by  an  added  number  of  the  objects  to 
which  limited  spiritual  acts  and  attributes  are  related. 

When  we  use  the  imagination  to  image  or  illustrate  our  concepts  and  beliefs 
The  process;  Of  infinite,  spiritual  being,  we  can  multiply  and  enlarge  the  images  of  those 
worthiness.  finite  objects  upon  which  these  powers  are  employed,  and  of  the  finite  effects 

in  which  these  infinite  attributes  are  manifest.  But  these  utmost  efforts  of 
the  imaginative  power  to  reach  the  infinite  and  absolute,  are  always  attended  by  the  belief 
that  they  fall  short  of  the  reality ;  that  no  enumeration  of  finite  objects,  however  interesting 
in  themselves,  or  significant  they  may  be,  are  at  all  adequate  to  illustrate  the  divine ;  that 
no  continuation  of  space  or  of  time  can  express  the  divine  eternity ;  that  no  quanta  of  de- 
pendent being  can  fitly  represent  the  Being  who  is  self-existent.  To  have  the  materials  that 
shall  enable  a  man  fitly  to  image  the  infinite,  one  must  himself  be  infinite.  There  are,  indeed, 
analogies  between  the  created  and  the  creating  spirit ;  else  the  one  could  not  know  the  other 
in  any  sense  or  to  any  degree.  But  these  analogies  are  too  few  and  too  inadequate  to  enable 
or  authorize  man  to  penetrate  into  the  secret  things  which  belong  to  God,  or  to  make  con- 
ceivable the  divine  by  any  images  which  man  applies  so  freely  and  properly  to  limited  things. 
The  imagination  is  not  easily  content  to  use  the  analogies  which  are  placed  at  its  command, 
and  to  refrain  from  using  those  which  it  may  not  lawfully  employ.  It  would  fain  go  further 
than  it  can  or  ought.  To  do  this,  has  been  its  constant  temptation  and  its  perpetual  daring. 
To  refuse  to  go  as  far  as  it  may  and  ought,  is  weak  and  unphilosophical ;  but  to  attempt  to  go 
further,  is  always  irrational,  and,  it  may  be,  impious. 

Theima  'nation  §  3^°'  ^n  regPect>  a^so?  to  tne  capacities  and  experiences  of 
limited  in  its  ^he  gp}rit  in  an  unembodied  or  a  disembodied  state, — when 

pictures   of  an- 
other   state  of    separate  from  a  human  body  or  any  material  organization — 

the  imagination  is  limited  in  the  materials  of  its  working  and 
the  products  which  it  creates.  Our  knowledge  is  of  the  soul  in  its  con- 
nection with  the  body,  and  of  objects  which  are  known  through  sense-per 
ception.  To  image  any  of  its  acts  or  states  without  a  constantly  present 
background  of  bodily  sensations,  is  to  imagine  a  mode  of  existence  that 
seems  to  us  imperfect  and  unnatural.  We  cannot  imagine  the  soul  with- 
out the  body  by  which  to  know  and  act,  and  without  material  objects  to  act 
upon.  If  we  attempt  it,  we  bring  to  our  aid  some  attenuated  matter  for 
the  soul's  habitation  and  instrument,  and  we  surround  it  with  a  world  of 
objects  that  wear  the  forms  of  material  things.  It  is  not  easy  for  -as  tc 


§  371.  REPRESENTATION.  —  1HE   IMAGINATION.  376 

conceive,  and  therefore  not  easy  to  believe  in  a  world  of  purely  spiritual 
agencies  and  objects,  without  some  intrusion  of  imaginations  taken  from 
the  world  of  familiar  life.  But  inasmuch  as  religious  faith  not  only  be« 
lieves  in  God,  but  in  another  condition  of  existence  for  the  soul  unlike 
the  present  in  the  connection  of  soul  and  body  and  the  instruments  and 
objects  of  the  soul's  knowledge,  the  question  continually  presents  itself, 
How  far  can  we  image  that  world  by  this,  and  the  soul's  experiences  in 
that  world,  by  its  experiences  in  this  ?  Can  we  imagine  it  at  all  ?  May 
we  apply  the  pictures  drawn  from-  this  life  to  illustrate  or  make  conceiv- 
able the  scenes  and  events  of  another  state  ?  We  not  only  can,  but  we 
must,  yet  ever  with  the  caution,  that  the  images  which  we  use  be  not 
allowed  to  suggest  more  than  the  data  authorise.  That  world  is  like  the 
present  in  certain  particulars,  else  we  could  not  conceive  it  at  all. 

§  371.    There  must  be  concepts  which  are  common  to  the  two,  which  serve 
tions  in  the  fi-     as  the  bridge  across  which  we  pass  from  the  one  to  the  other.   But  the  images 
the  in~     by  which  these  concepts  are  illustrated,  must  all  be  taken  from  the  world  of 


sense  and  matter,  because,  forsooth,  it  is  only  sense  and  matter  that  furnish 
images  for  spiritual  facts  and  phenomena  even  in  the  present  state  of  being.  If  all  the 
language  concerning  spirit,  even  in  this  world,  is  taken  from  the  facts  and  phenomena  of  mat- 
ter, it  must  of  necessity  follow  that  such  facts  and  phenomena,  when  placed  in  another  sphere, 
must  yield  to  the  same  law.  If  other  facts  and  phenomena  of  the  future  state  are  to  be 
conveyed  in  language  which  is  at  all  analogous  to  the  sphere  of  sense  and  matter,  these  mu&t 
be  set  forth  under  images  derived  from  the  sense-conditions  and  the  material  things  which 
are  present  to  us  here.  It  should  not  surprise  us,  then,  to  find  that  the  imagination,  when  it  rises 
into  faith  in  objects  of  the  unseen  world,  invariably  uses  pictures  that  are  borrowed  from  the 
world  of  matter,  and  phrases  all  its  language  from  materials  furnished  by  this  imagery.  It 
cannot  do  otherwise.  However  lofty  its  conceptions  may  be,  however  soaring  its  aspirations, 
undoubted  its  beliefs,  or  ardent  its  hopes,  all  these  must  be  pictured  and  expressed  in  the 
images  taken  from  that  world  of  matter  which  is  adapted  to  a  soul  that  knows  and  acta 
through  a  material  organism.  If  there  be  a  revelation  that  is  conveyed  by  human  language 
or  addressed  to  the  human  soul,  it  musi  in  this  respect  be  accommodated  to  the  capacities  of 
the  soul  that  is  to  understand  and  accept  it.  The  fact  that  it  must  be  conveyed  by  such  a 
medium,  does  not  disprove  that  a  revelation  is  possible,  or  at  all  detract  from  its  importance 
or  authority.  It  cannot  be  argued  against  its  divine  origination  or  supernatural  confirmation, 
that  it  conforms  itself  to  the  nature  of  the  being  to  whom  it  is  made.  If  man  is  to  under- 
stand  its  import,  that  import  must  be  expressed  under  the  conditions  and  laws  of  human  thought 
and  of  human  language.  If  we  must  image  the  concepts  of  our  own  spiritual  life,  and  of 
an  extra-mundane  sphere  of  being,  by  pictures  taken  from  the  material  sphere,  all  communi- 
cations to  us  concerning  other  spirits  and  other  spheres  of  being  must  be  made  under  thia 
common  condition  and  by  means  of  this  common  vehicle,  whether  they  are  natural  or  super- 
natural,  whether  they  are  human  or  divine. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  regard  the  necessary  limits  of  imagination  and 
v-  faith,  we  shall  not  expect  that  either  will  do  more  for  us  than  lies  in  the 


i(£lti*gd  resell-  capacities  of  either.  We  shall  not  confound  the  images  of  analogy  with  the 
tion.  intuitions  of  direct  knowledge.  We  shall  not  mistake  the  accessories  of 

illustrative  imagery  for  the  realities  of  the  concepts  or  truths  which  this  imagery  sets  forth. 
We  shall  not  revel  in  sense-pictures  of  the  fancy,  as  though  the  sensuous  in  them  were  literal 
truth.  We  shall  not  be  imposed  upon  by  pretended  seers,  because,  forsooth,  their  pictures  of 
the  unseen,  are  so  minute,  so  copious,  and  so  beautiful,  or  so  confidently  set  forth  ;  overlooking 


376  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  3^1 

the  circumstance  that  these  visions  may  be  merely  the  residua  of  a  too  luxuriant  fancy,  or  the 
creations  of  an  excited  and  perhaps  an  insane  imagination.  The  recognition  of  the  human 
limitations  in  the  divine,  will  teach  us  to  interpret  the  divine  aright,  while  it  may  save  us  from 
accepting  as  divine  that  which  is  only  limited  and  human. 

Upon  the  imagination,  and  its  various  applications,  cf.  J.  Addison,  The  Spectator,  No& 
411,  412,  413,  414,  416,  418,  419  ;  A.  Alison,  Essays  on  the  Nature  and  Principles  of  Taste, 
Ess.  I. ;  M.  Akenside,  Pleasures  of  the  Imagination  ;  E.  Burke,  A  Philosophical  Enquiry 
etc.,  p.  v.  sees,  ii.,  iv.,  v.,  vi.,  vii. ;  D.  Stewart,  Elements,  etc.,  p.  ii.  chap.  viii. ;  Dr.  T.  Brown, 
Lectures,  xlii.,  xliii. ;  Hamilton,  Met.  Lee.,  xxxiii. ;  J.  Ruskin,  Modern  Painters,  p.  iii.  sec 
ii. ;  S.  T.  Coleridge,  Biog.  Lit.,  chaps,  xiii.-xxii. ;  W.  Wordsworth,  Appendix,  Prefaces,  etc., 
Poetical  Works,  vol.  vi. ;  Leigh  Hunt,  Imagination  and  Fancy ;  E.  S.  Dallas,  The  Gay 
Science  ;  R.  G.  Hazard,  Essay  on  Language  ;  P.  Brown,  Procedure,  etc.,  etc.,  of  the  Human 
Understanding ;  Things  Divine  and  Supernatural  conceived  by  Analogy ;  H  L.  Hansel, 
Limits  of  Religious  Thought ;  H.  Calderwcod,  Philosophy  of  the  Infinite. 


§372.  THINKING   AND  THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE.  377 


PART    THIRD. 

THINKING  AND  THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE. 
CHAPTER    I. 

THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE     DEFINED     AND     EXPLAINED. 

From  presentation  and  representation  we  proceed,  or  rather  we  ascend,  to  a  higher  kind  of 
knowledge,  viz.,  knowledge  by  thought.  Presentation  gives  us  individual  objects.  Repre- 
sentation recalls  them  to  the  memory,  and  pictures  them  in  the  imagination.  Both  these 
acts  and  processes  prepare  them  for  the  service  and  uses  of  thought,  which  gives  general- 
ized conceptions,  permanent  principles,  and  universal  laws.  In  this  part  of  our  treatise 
we  treat  of  the  processes  and  products  of  thinking,  or  thought-knowledge  ;  reserving  for 
the  part  which  follows,  the  consideration  of  the  intuitions  and  relations  which  are  directly 
assumed  in  thought,  and  indirectly  in  all  knowledge. 


TO  what  ro-  §  ^^"  ^e  third  kind  of  knowledge  of  which  the  intellect 
terms  a^fied?6  ^s  caPa°le5  ^s  thinking,  or  thought.  The  term  thought,  when 
used  in  this  special  or  technical  sense,  is  applied  to  a  great 
variety  of  processes,  which  are  familiarly  known  as  abstraction,  general- 
ization, naming,  judging,  reasoning,  arranging,  explaining,  and  accounting 
for.  These  processes  are  often  grouped  together,  and  called  the  logical, 
or  rational  processes  ;  their  mutual  affinity  and  common  relationship  to  the 
higher  functions  of  the  intellect,  being  acknowledged  by  this  general  ap- 
pellation. 

This  affinity  is  more  clearly  seen  in  that  they  all  assume  and  make 
prominent  certain  fundamental  relations,  such  as  substance  and  attribute, 
cause  and  effect,  means  and  end,  adaptation  and  purpose,  power  and  law, 
with  the  several  concepts  which  these  relations  involve. 
The  relation  of  ^  ™  m°re  manifest  and  striking  by  the  relation  of  these 
toeman?°hi£her  processes  and  conceptions  to  the  higher  knowledge  and 
knowledge.  attainments  of  man.  It  is  by  thought  only  that  we  can  form 
those  conceptions  of  number  and  magnitude  which  are  the  postulates  and 
the  materials  of  mathematical  science.  By  thinking,  we  both  enlarge  and 
rise  above  the  limited  and  transient  information  which  is  gained  by  single 
acts  of  consciousness  and  sense-perception,  as  we  lay  hold  of  that  in 
them  which  is  universal  and  permanent.  By  thought,  we  know  effects  by 
their  causes,  and  causes  through  their  effects  :  we  believe  in  powers,  whose 
actings  only  we  can  directly  discern,  and  infer  powers  in  objects  which  we 
have  never  tested  or  observed  :  we  explain  what  has  happened  by  refer- 
ring it  to  laws  of  necessity  or  reason,  and  we  predict  what  will  happen  by 


THE   HITMAN   INTELLECT.  §373 

rightly  interpreting  what  has  occurred.  By  thinking,  we  rise  to  the  unseeii 
from  that  which  is  seen,  to  the  laws  of  nature  from  the  facts  of  nature,  to 
the  laws  of  spirit  from  the  phenomena  of  spirit,  and  to  God  from  the 
universe  of  matter  and  of  spirit,  whose  powers  reveal  His  energy,  and 
whose  ends  and  adaptations  manifest  His  thoughts  and  character. 
The  dignity  of  Tnougnt>  as  already  explained,  not  only  gives  us  the  most 
ceh*selellt~pro"  imPortant  Parfc  of  our  knowledge,  but  it  qualifies  us  for  our 
noblest  functions.  It  makes  us  capable  of  language,  by 
which  we  communicate  what  we  know  and  feel  for  the  good  of  others, 
or  record  it  for  another  generation  ;  of  science,  as  distinguished  from  and 
elevated  above  the  observation  and  remembrance  of  single  and  isolated 
facts ;  of  forecast,  as  we  learn  wisdom  by  experience ;  of  duty,  as  we 
exalt  ourselves  into  judges  and  lawgivers  over  the  inward  desires  and 
intentions ;  of  law,  as  we  discern  its  importance  and  bow  to  its  authority  ; 
and  of  religion,  as  we  believe  in  and  worship  the  Unseen,  whose  existence 
and  character  we  interpret  by  His  works  and  learn  from  His  Word. 

The  thou  ht-  §  3^3'  But  what  **  is  tO  tmnk>  and  how  thinking  should  be  defined,  may  be 
processes  illus-  more  easily  understood  by  a  concrete  example.  We  take  a  familiar  object, 
ample, by  "  '  as  an  apple,  and  proceed  to  think  it,  in  the  various  processes  already  named. 

We  suppose  that  it  is  perceived  and  represented,  and  that  we  know  from  our 
previous  studies  what  it  is  to  perceive  and  remember.  We  begin  to  think  this  object,  which 
has  often  been  perceived  and  represented. 

First  of  all,  we  know  it  as  a  being  or  a  something,  as  distinguished  from 

The    apple    as     nothing;  and,  as  such,  like  every  other  entity,  whether  it  be  an  actual  or 
substance      and     .,         ,~.  ,    . 
attribute.  thought-being. 

Next,  we  think  or  know  this  being  as  possessed  of  and  distinguished  by 
attributes  or  properties  which  we  can  separate  in  thought  from  the  being  to  which  they  belong, 
but  which  are  held  to  it,  and  to  one  another,  by  a  natural  bond  which  cannot  be  broken. 

We  go  further :  we  observe  in  other  objects — apples — attributes  like  those 
Abstraction  and  which  we  discern  in  this ;  we  see  the  objects  to  be  similar  in  color,  form, 
generalization.  ^^  ^  ftnd  wg  think  thege  apart  frQm  ^  legg  conspicuous  attributes,  and 

from  the  individual  apples  to  which  they  belong,  and  then  combine  them  into 
larger  or  smaller  groups  of  attributes.  In  this  way  we  form  the  mental  product  called  a 
general  notion  or  concept  of  the  apple,  or  of  apples  in  general  as  we  say,  which  we  can 
analyze  and  define.  To  abstract  and  to  analyze,  is  to  think. 

Next,  we  restore,  or  think  back,  these  general  concepts  to  the  individual 
Classification         apples,  and  in  so  doing,  we  divide  them  into  higher  or  lower,  wider  or  nar- 
rower classes;  some  by  their  color  only,  as  red,  striped,  etc.;  others  by 
their  form,  as  round,  oval,  etc ;  others  by  their  taste,  as  sweet,  acid,  etc.    To 
classify,  is  involved  in  thinking. 

As  we  proceed,  we  mark  and  fix  what  we  have  done  by  language.  We  give  names  to 
each  of  these  attributes,  to  the  concepts  and  things  formed  and  denoted  by  several  attributes 
united ;  to  the  classes  and  sub-classes  into  which  they  are  separated.  Thinking  is  necessary 
to  language. 

Next,  the  apple  holds  relation  to  space  and  time.     It  is  both  extended  and 

Geometrical  and    enduring.     The  perception  of  the  apple  conditionates  or  involves  the  knowl 
numerical    rela- 
tions, edge  of  both  space  and  time ;  we  do  not  here  inquire  how  or  why.     By 

thought  and  imagination  we  are  enabled  to  separate  the  object  perceived 


§373.  THINKING   AND   THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE.  37ft 

from  both  time  and  space,  and  to  construct  in  space  the  various  geometrical  figures,  as  well 
as  to  conceive  and  define  them  by  their  necessary  attributes  or  properties. 

Moreover,  all  sorts  of  entities,  whether  things  existing,  or  thought-things,  whether  attri- 
butes or  beings,  can,  by  the  common  relation  to  time  of  the  mind  that  thinks  them,  be  though, 
in  the  relations  of  number.  They  can  be  counted  one  by  one ;  they  can  be  gathered  intc 
groups,  and  the  groups  can  be  counted  :  the  number  of  times  a  smaller  group  occurs  to  make 
a  larger  group,  can  also  be  counted.  In  this  way  all  the  operations  of  arithmeiic  or  algebra 
are  rendered  possible  as  acts  or  operations  of  thought,  upon  concepts  which  thinking  itself 
constructs  and  provides. 

Again,  the  object — the  apple — is  believed  to  be  produced  from  a  tree,  by 
Cause  and  ef-  beginning  as  the  germ  in  the  blossom,  and  gradually  expanding  into  the 
fee*-  ripened  fruit.  It  is  known  also  to  be  dependent  upon  the  agencies  of  heat 

and  moisture  acting  together  with  the  living  tree.  The  several  changes  which 
occur,  together  with  their  attendant  conditions,  are  observed  by  the  senses  as  they  precede  and 
follow  one  another.  The  memory  gathers  these  in  their  order.  Thought,  however,  connects 
them  as  cause  and  effect,  and  finds  in  the  phenomena  thus  connected,  the  relation  of  the 
powers  and  laws  of  their  causative  agents.  All  these  relations,  and  the  conceptions  which 
grow  out  of  them,  are  known  by  thought. 

We  proceed  to  another  act  of  thought-knowledge.     By  observing  the  powers 

and  conditions  in  this  class  of  apples,  their  habit  of  growth,  the  soil,  situation 

and  temperature  favorable  to  their  successful  cultivation,  we  infer  that  the 

same  are  required  in  all  cases,  for  this  kind  of  fruit,  and  confirm  the  sugges- 
tion by  experiment.  This  is  knowledge  by  induction.  Induction  is  a  process  of  thought,  for 
simple  perception  gives  us  no  authority  to  believe  with  confidence  that  which  we  have  not 
observed,  nor  does  the  simple  memory  of  the  past,  or  imagination  of  the  possible,  justify  us 
in  predicting  events  that  are  yet  future. 

But  we  do  not  confine  our  inductions  to  a  single  object,  or  class  of  objects.  We  extend 
them  to  still  wider  and  higher  classes,  till,  by  thought,  we  have  discovered  the  great  powers 
which  pervade  the  universe,  and  fixed  the  laws  according  to  which  they  act.  These  widest 
inductions  are  known  by  the  rational  faculty  which  we  call  the  power  of  thought. 

But  we  do  not  rest  with  the  induction  of  powers  and  laws.  We  observe  that 
Adaptation  and  the  aPPle  ^  usefui  ^  pleasant  as  food.  We  notice  that  it  is  the  product  of 
design.  cool  climates,  and  can,  with  proper  care,  be  preserved  through  the  winter. 

We  do  not  merely  observe  and  record  these  as  facts,  but  we  connect  them 
by  the  relation  of  adaptation,  or  fitness  to  the  wants  of  man.  We  discern  other  adaptations 
in  objects.  This  adaptation  implies  design  or  thought  in  the  structure  of  the  universe.  It 
shows  us  each  inferior  part  as  contributing  to  the  superior,  and  all  as  acting  together  in  per- 
fect harmony  toward  the  well-being  of  the  whole.  But  adaptation  and  design  are  not  seen 
nor  heard  ;  they  are  neither  tasted  nor  handled,  but  they  are  known  by  a  higher  capacity  of 
the  intellect ;  they  are  the  revelations  of  thought. 

The  nature  and  processes  of  thought  might  be  illustrated  by  an  example 
Example  from  selecte<^  ^rom  tne  world  of  spirit.  By  consciousness,  we  know  only  indi 
spiritual  being.  vidual  states  of  perception  or  feeling.  They  follow  after  one  another,  like  the 

successive  waves  of  a  rapid  stream.  Should  we  notice  each  individual  as  it 
passes  before  the  eye  of  our  consciousness,  the  eye  would  be  confused  and  bewildered.  But 
we  detain  or  repeat  one  and  another ;  we  observe  their  likeness  or  unlikeness ;  we  form  con- 
cepts ;  we  group  tliem  in  classes  which  divide  the  individuals  to  which  they  belong ;  we  fix 
and  record  the  products  of  our  acts  by  a  name  ;  we  find  common  causes,  powers,  and  laws  for 
similar  phenomena ;  we  discern  the  adaptation  of  spiritual  objects  to  one  another  and  to  the 
world  of  matter,  and  thus  bind  together  the  world  of  matter  and  spirit,  in  the  unity  and  liar- 
mony  of  one  comprehensive  plan  ;  the  thinking  of  man  interpreting  in  these  ways  the  thought! 
Df  God. 


380  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §375. 

§  374.  From  this  review  of  particular  instances  of  thought 
thought  defined.  WQ  derive  the  following  definitions  :  To  know  by  thinking,  ia 
to  unite  individual  objects  by  means  of  generalization,  classi- 
fication, rational  explanation,  and  orderly  arrangement:  Thought-knowl- 
edge is  that  knowledge  which  is  gained  by  the  formation  and  application 
of  general  conceptions. 

Thinking  is  a  species  of  knowledge ;  but  knowledge  has  been  defined 
as  the  apprehension  of  objects  in  their  relations,  the  difierent  species  or 
modes  of  which  are  determined  by  the  character  of  the  objects  and  rela- 
tions. Thinking,  as  defined  from  this  point  of  view,  is  the  apprehension 
of  objects  as  generalized,  and  their  implied  relations. 

We  begin  this  knowledge  with  the  formation  of  general  conceptions 
as  the  first  step  in  the  process.  We  proceed  to  apply  these  conceptions  ix 
the  various  ways  which  these  conceptions  imply  and  render  possible.  Ir 
doing  this,  we  are  naturally  and  inevitably  led  to  evolve  the  several  prod- 
ucts and  kinds  of  knowledge  which  we  have  briefly  sketched — -formation 
of  the  concept,  classification,  definition,  division,  deduction,  induction,  ea> 
planation,  and  systematic  arrangement.  As  the  result,  we  gain  rational 
knowledge,  philosophical  knowledge,  scientific  knowledge  or  science,  and 
practical  insight  or  wisdom. 

§  375.  Some  persons  may  question  the  propriety  of  designating  these  several 
The  uses  of  the  processes  by  the  term  thinking,  or  thought,  for  the  reason  that  these  worda 
terms  justified.  sometimes  signify  to  imagine,  or  believe  on  insufficient  evidence.  To  apply 

these  terms  to  the  most  important  distinctions  which  we  discern,  and  the  most 
positive  truths  in  which  we  confide,  seems  to  intimate  some  doubt  of  the  trustworthiness  of 
the  knowledge  itself,  and  of  the  processes  by  which  we  attain  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  should  be  remembered  that  thinking  and  thought,  in  the  best  English 
usage,  denote,  in  a  general  sense,  the  higher  as  distinguished  from  the  lower  operations  of  the 
intellect.  There  are  no  single  words  so  appropriate  as  these,  which  can  be  set  apart  to  the 
technical  service  and  designation  of  the  operations  of  the  rational  faculty ;  no  other  terms  are 
in  actual  use  whose  common  signification  is  at  once  so  comprehensive  and  so  definite  as  are 
these. 

Another  profounder  reason  might  be  given.  All  the  products,  or  object-matter,  with 
which  these  powers  are  concerned,  as  they  are  general  objects,  in  one  sense  exist  only  in  and 
for  the  mind  of  man.  The  concept,  the  class,  the  argument,  the  inference,  the  reason,  the 
system,  are  not  individual  entities  existing  permanently  in  the  world  of  matter  or  spirit,  but 
thought-entities,  created  by  and  existing  for  the  intellect  that  thinks  them  into  being. 
The  operations  which  call  them  into  being  may  properly  be  called  thought  and  thinking,  in 
distinction  from  perception,  which  has  to  do  with  those  individual  objects  or  events  which 
exist  or  occur  in  the  universe  of  fact. 

The  use  of  these  terms  does  not,  however,  imply  that  the  objects  are  less  real, 
What  these  or  that  the  knowledge  is  less  certain,  than  the  acts  and  objects  of  sense  and 
imply  ^  consciousness.  On  the  other  hand,  many  of  these  objects  are  more  real,  and 

much  of  this  knowledge  is  more  certain.  By  these  acts  we  know  things  in 
Iheir  essential  nature,  their  fixed  causes,  their  unchangeable  laws,  and  their  controlling  ends ; 
in  other  words,  we  know  them  by  a  deeper  insight,  and  in  higher  relations,  than  we  can  by 
the  observations  of  sense  or  the  experience  of  consciousness.  By  thought,  we  correct  the 
mistakes  of  single  observations ;  we  gain  power  over  nature  and  over  ourselves.  By  thought, 


§  376.  THINKING   AND   THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE.  381 

we  see  into  the  truth  and  essence  of  things,  we  read  the  secrets  of  nature,  and  interpret  th» 
very  thoughts  of  God. 

If,  by  an  occasional  use,  the  word  to  think  signifies  to  surmise,  to  imagine,  <  r  to  believ« 
without  reason,  this  does  not  exclude  or  destroy  its  higher  meaning. 

Appellations  for  §  3/76'  ^  ^  ^e  Difficult  to  find  an  appropriate  teiTO  to  stand 
th?nkin°'Wer  °f  ^or  a^  tnese  higner  processes,  it  is  almost  as  difficult  to  find 
or  select  an  appellation  for  the  power  which  qualifies  us  to 
perform  them.  The  intelligence  and  the  intellect  have  been  thus  appro- 
priated, but  they  are  also  used  for  the  capacity  of  the  soul  for  every 
species  of  knowledge,  the  lower  as  well  as  the  higher  ;  for  the  power  to 
know  by  sense  and  imagination,  as  well  as  the  power  to  know  by  general 
conceptions.  The  understanding  is  sometimes  employed  in  this  very 
general  sense,  and  sometimes  limited  to  a  single  and  special  function,  as  by 
Coleridge  and  others,  after  Kant.  The  judgment  is  used,  likewise,  in  a 
wider  and  a  narrower  sense.  The  reason  seems  better  fitted  than  almost 
any  other  term,  and  yet  the  reason  is  used  for  the  very  highest  of  the  rational 
functions,  or  else  in  a  very  indefinite  sense  for  all  that  distinguishes  man 
from  the  brutes.  It  remains  for  us  to  choose  between  the  rational  faculty 
and  the  power  of  thought,  or  briefly,  thought.  For  brevity  and  precision 
we  prefer  thought.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe  that,  like  percep- 
tion and  representation,  and  many  subordinate  terms,  thought  is  used  at 
one  time  for  the  power,  at  another  for  the  act  of  thinking,  and  at  another 
for  its  product.  Thus  we  say  indifferently,  'Man  is  endowed  with  thought 
as  well  as  with  sense  :  '  "  Sits  fixed  in  thought  the  mighty  Stagyrite  :  "  "A 
penny  for  your  thoughts  !  " 

If  the  reason  were  asked  why  no  single  term  hag  been  assigned  by  English  philosophers 
Terrain  o  logy     to  this  higher  power  in  man,  we  must  answer,  that  it  is  in  part  owing  to  the  want  of 
.°       definite  and  accordant  views  in  respect  to  the  nature  and  functions  of  such  a  faculty,  and 


in  part  to  the  influence  of  Locke's  Essay.  This  work  is  quite  as  much  a  treatise  on  logic 
and  metaphysics  as  on  psychology.  It  scarcely  professes  to  give  a  complete  and  systematic  view  of  the  powers 
of  the  soul,  but  is  chiefly  occupied  with  an  analysis  of  ideas  ;  the  manner  in  which  they  are  formed  and 
the  sources  from  which  they  are  derived.  Even  in  the  incidental  notice  which  he  takes  of  the  higher  pow- 
ers, Locke  is  especially  superficial  and  hasty. 

These  powers,  in  addition  to  those  of  sense,  reflection,  and  memory,  are  loosely  called  discerning,  com- 
paring, compounding,  naming,  abstraction  (B.  ii.  c.  xi.).  He  promises  to  treat  of  these  fully  afterwards,  but 
fails  to  redeem  his  promise  psychologically  ;  what  he  contributes  in  addition  being  only  in  the  way  of  logical 
and  metaphysical  analysis.  Locke  gave  the  direction  to  all  subsequent  writers,  even  to  those  who  differ 
from  him  most  materially.  Even  Reid,  in  treating  of  the  higher  powers,  groups  them  a1!  ULder  judgment, 
which  he  treats  quite  as  much  from  a  logical  as  from  a  psychological  starting-point.  The  threefold  division, 
derived  from  the  Schoolmen,  of  knowledge  into  simple  apprehension,  judgment,  and  iea&oning,  seems  to 
^.ave  exercised  a  powerful  influence,  often  for  evil,  over  the  psychological  trea^mtni  of  the  higher  powers. 
This  is  to  be  observed  even  in  Kant. 

It  is  worthy  of  notice  that,  before  the  time  of  Locke,  the  intellectual  power?  w^re,  in  England,  divided 
X'io  three  :  sense,  phantasy,  and  intellect.  The  oldest  antagonists  of  Lookt.,  aj  Jjee,  Bishop  Peter  Brown. 
jnd  others,  complained  that  he  did  not  recognize  this  division. 

Whatever  else  of  good  may  be  said  of  Locke,  in  that  he  emphasized  consciousness  (reflection)  as  a  dis 
uinct  source  of  knowledge,  of  equal  authority  with  sense  ;  he  did  no  good  to  psychology  by  abandoning  this 
received  threefold  distinction.  For  all  his  efforts  to  give  clearness  and  precision  to  his  conceptions  and 
nomenclature,  Locke  merits  the  highest  praise.  He  is  to  be  honored  for  his  unwillingness  to  acquiesce  in 
traditionary  terms  or  forms  of  speech,  and  for  his  desire  to  find  a  meaning  in  all  that  he  accepted  ;  but  h« 
is  not  to  be  commended  for  rejecting  the  traditional  psychology  of  the  schools  because  of  its  formalism, 
ind  yet  following  blmdly  the  traditional  logic,  which,  if  possible,  was  even  more  formalistic  and  empty. 


382  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §  378, 

§  377.  The  power  of  thought  may  be  considered  in  twc 
.bought^  aspects  :  as  a  capacity  for  certain  processes  or  functions ;  and 

for  originating  or  bringing  to  view  certain  fundainenta. 
conceptions  or  relations.  In  the  one  of  these  aspects  it  performs  the 
several  acts  which  we  have  enumerated,  of  generalizing,  judging,  reason* 
ing,  etc.,  the  most  of  which  are  usually  called  logical  processes,  because 
they  are  more  or  less  intimately  related  to  deduction  or  reasoning.  In 
the  other,  it  is  viewed  as  the  discoverer  of  certain  native  conceptions  or 
intuitions,  and  the  propounder  of  certain  first  truths,  or  first  principles ; 
which  are  also  called  necessary  and  universal  propositions,  or  axioms  of 
reason.  These  conceptions  and  propositions  are  called  metaphysical  con- 
ceptions and  metaphysical  truths. 

To  the  performance  of  the  processes  which  have  been  named,  these  con- 
ceptions are  absolutely  essential.  We  can  neither  generalize,  nor  reason, 
nor  infer,  without  both  assuming  and  employing  the  conceptions  of  sub- 
Btance  and  attribute,  cause  and  effect,  means  and  end.  But  the  power 
which  originates  and  reveals  them  is  distinguished  from  the  faculty  which 
applies  them,  or  rather,  we  should  say,  the  same  faculty  has  been  differ- 
ently named  according  as  it  is  viewed  as  developing  or  as  applying  these 
necessary  conceptions  and  relations. 

Hamilton  treats  these  two  offices  as  two  faculties,  the  elaborative  and  the 

Often        distin-     regulative,  the  -one  of  which  elaborates  or  works  over  the  materials  furnished 

guishen   as  two 

faculties.  by  the  lower  powers,  according  to  the  conceptions  or  rules  which  the  other 

furnishes  or  prescribes.  In  this  he  follows  Kant  very  closely,  who  calls  the 
logical  faculty,  the  understanding,  and  the  power  to  which  it  is  subjected  as  explained  by  his 
peculiar  philosophy,  the  reason. 

It  is  more  legitimate  to  consider  the  two  in  conformity  with  the  analogy  which  we  discern 
in  the  other  powers  of  the  soul ;  the  one  as  the  capacity  for  certain  definite  acts  or  processes 
of  knowing,  which  we  consciously  exercise  and  employ ;  and  the  other  as  the  unconscious 
source  of  those  conceptions,  according  to  which  the  material  of  knowledge  must  arrange 
itself  by  the  very  constitution  of  the  thinking  power.  According  to  this  view,  the  logical  or 
elaborative  faculty,  or  the  understanding,  performs  its  appropriate  functions,  which  are  analo- 
gous to  those  of  conscious  presentation  and  representation  ;  while  the  reason,  or  the  regulative 
faculty,  or  intuition,  is  like  the  unknown  and  unconscious  power  possessed  by  the  soul  to  pre- 
pare for  the  senses  and  memory  their  appropriate  material  (§  47). 

Forms  and  laws  §  378.  The  thinking  power,  viewed  as  the  capacity  for  certain 
Forms  °ot 8  be-  processes,  thinks  in  various  methods  that  are  clearly  distin- 
guishable from  one  another,  both  as  acts  and  products ;  while, 
as  in  the  other  activities  of  the  mind,  we  measure  the  process  by  the  pro- 
duct, the  two  being  often  denoted  by  the  same  word.  These  several  products 
&re  called  the  forms  of  thought,  or  thought-formations.  Into  these  forms 
or  formations  these  several  processes  bring  every  individual  object,  and 
express  them  by  appropriate  words.  These  forms  are  the  concept,  the 
judgment,  the  argument  or  syllogism,  the  induction,  and  the  system 


§379.  THINKING   AND   THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE. 

Each  of  these  forms  has  its  constituent  elements  and  relations,  which,  in 
their  turn,  are  evolved  by  the  action  of  the  thinking  power. 

As  the  discerner  or  the  discoverer  by  intuition  of  certain  necessary 
conceptions  or  relations,  the  thinking  power  is  said  to  know  or  assume 
certain  forms  of  being,  according  to  which  it  performs  its  operations  of 
thinking,  and  constructs  its  forms  of  thought.  These  are  called  indiffer- 
ently, forms  of  being  and  forms  of  knowledge,  for  the  reason  that  the 
mind  can  only  know  what  is  or  exists,  and  according  to  the  relations  in 
which  it  exists.  Some  of  these  forms  of  being  or  forms  of  knowledge 
are  time  and  space,  substance  and  attribute,  cause  and  effect,  means  and  end. 

The  laws  of  thought  are  criteria  of  correct  thinking,  and  are  stated  in  the  form  of  rules, 
for  the  purpose  of  preventing  those  errors  to  which  the  intellect  is  liable  in  its  actual  thinking, 
and  of  readily  detecting  and  correcting  such  errors  when  they  actually  occur. 

The  forms  of  thought,  in  a  sense,  are  laws  of  thought,  inasmuch  as  the  mind  cannot  think 
at  all  except  it  thinks  in  or  through  these  forms.  The  laws  of  thought,  however,  as  techni- 
cally  conceived  and  defined,  are  those  logical  and  practical  rules  according  to  which  we  must 
think,  if  we  would  think  correctly.  The  forms  of  thought  make  it  possible  for  us  to  think  at 
all.  The  laws  of  thought  direct  us  how  to  think  logically  and  correctly. 

Inasmuch,  as  we  shall  see,  the  object-matter  of  our  thinking  is  far  wider  than  the  object- 
matter  of  our  knowledge  of  facts  or  things,  these  forms  of  thought  are  also  applied  to  abstract 
and  hypothetical  thinking,  as  well  as  to  concrete  and  actual  knowledge. 


Relation  of  §  3^9*  ^ne  Power  °f  thought,  as  a  capacity  for  certain 
lower  Bowers  *he  Psycno^°&ical  processes,  is  dependent  for  its  exercise  and 
development  on  the  lower  powers  of  the  intellect.  These 
powers  furnish  the  materials  for  it  to  work  with  and  upon.  We  must 
first  apprehend  individual  objects  by  means  of  sense  and  consciousness, 
before  we  can  think  these  objects.  We  can  classify,  explain,  and  method- 
ize only  individual  things,  and  these  must  first  be  known  by  sense  and 
consciousness  before  they  can  be  united  and  combined  into  generals. 

Not  only  is  it  true  that  these  lower  powers  are  necessary  to  furnish 
the  objects  for  thought  to  work  upon,  but  it  is  true  in  fact  that  they  are 
developed  long  before  these  higher  powers.  The  infant  must  go  through 
a  training  of  the  eye  and  the  ear  for  months,  before  it  begins  to  name  and 
classify  with  effect.  It  is  the  conscious  subject  of  a  multitude  of  mental 
states,  before  it  gathers  the  most  obvious  under  a  general  conception. 
The  discipline  of  attention  must  be  for  a  long  time  enforced,  before  the 
developed  mind  can  learn  to  apply  the  commonest  concepts  or  to  affix  the 
simplest  names.  The  conceptions  of  cause  and  effect,  and  of  means  and 
end,  are  not  developed  till  the  intellect  has  become  still  more  mature. 

To  the  development  of  thought,  the  representative  faculty  is  also 
largely  subservient.  The  individual  object  must  not  only  be  apprehended 
in  order  to  be  thought  of,  but  it  must  be  recalled  again  and  again.  To 
thought,  the  discernment  of  similarity  is  required  ;  and  in  order  to  this, 
the  past  must  be  frequently  confronted  with  the  present,  and  the  present 


B84  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §380, 

must  be  compared  with  the  past.  Objects  striking  for  their  likeness  or 
their  difference,  must  be  recalled  by  the  memory  and  revived  to  the  im- 
agination, in  order  that  like  objects  and  like  phenomena  may  be  grouped 
and  arranged  in  the  rudest  classification.  If  the  classification  is  to  b€ 
perfected  to  any  thing  like  scientific  exactness,  the  jaemory  and  imagi- 
nation are  to  be  tasked  still  further  in  order  that  one's  thoughts — i.  e., 
one's  concepts — may  be  just  to  the  reality  of  things. 

But  while  the  thought-power,  in  its  various  operations,  is  thus  shown  to  be 
In  whfr  sej^e  developed  later  than  the  several  forms  of  direct  cognition,  it  should  not  be 
first.  supposed  that  it  springs  into  perfect  and  mature  energy  by  a  single  bound, 

or  that  the  infant  acts  of  perception  are  not  affected  by  its  rudimental  activ- 
ity. The  human  intellect  is  a  unit,  and  the  action  of  one  power  is  tinged  or  modified  by  the 
feeble  energy  of  all  the  others.  The  sense-perceptions  of  the  infant  may  seem  to  be  more 
feeble  and  less  mature  than  are  those  of  the  young  of  the  brute.  The  higher  powers  may 
meanwhile  seem  to  lie  torpid  long  before  they  are  called  into  distinct  activity.  But  before 
they  are  revealed  to  the  conscious  subject  of  them,  or  are  expressed  in  the  simplest  forms  of 
language,  they  give  direction  and  character  to  the  perceptions  of  sense.  They  impart  to  the 
human  eye  a  cast  of  dawning  intelligence  which  distinguishes  it  from  the  keener  eye  of  the 
dog  or  the  eagle.  It  is  in  entire  accordance  with  the  analogy  of  the  general  development  of 
the  soul,  that  the  mind  should  make  efforts  to  think,  before  these  efforts  are  distinctly  apparent 
to  the  subject  himself,  or  to  the  observation  of  others. 

Those  efforts  of  thought  with  which  the  philosopher  is  concerned,  are,  however,  those 
which  cannot  be  questioned,  and  which  are  positively  revealed  in  language. 

§  380.  Thinking,  again,  may  be  distinguished  as  concrete  and 
abstract.  In  concrete  thinking,  we  know  of  though1>con- 
ceptions  and  relations  only  in  their  application  to  individual 
or  concrete  things  or  individual  objects.  More  exactly,  we  know  indi- 
vidual objects  under  or  by  means  of  the  relations  which  thought  furnishes. 
In  abstract  thinking  we  separate  these  conceptions  and  relations  from  any 
and  all  individual  objects.  We  consider  them  apart  by  abstraction,  and 
sometimes  treat  them  as  though  these  conceptions  and  relations  could  have 
an  independent  existence.  In  concrete  thinking,  we  proceed  as  we  have 
described  in  §  373.  We  perceive  an  apple  or  a  stone.  By  thought,  we 
know  it  as  a  being.  We  think  it  as  round,  or  oval,  as  colored,  etc.,  etc. ; 
we  apply  to  it  the  proper  adjectives,  or  qualifying  words.  We  do  not 
think  of  the  distinction  between  the  apple  as  a  substance,  and  its  attributes  ; 
much  less  do  we  think  of  being  in  the  abstract,  and  speculate  about  the 
distinction  between  substance  and  attributes,  as  to  its  origin  and  nature. 
We  simply  know  this  individual  object  as  a  being  distinguished  or  qualified 
by  attributive  concepts  and  names. 

In  abstract  thinking,  we  separate  or  abstract  from  every  individual 
object  the  generalized  conceptions  which  we  produce  by  thinking,  as  also 
those  by  means  of  which  we  think ;  as  the  concept,  the  judgment,  the 
argument,  the  inference,  on  the  one  hand,  and  substance,  i.  e.,  being  and 
attribute,  cause  and  effect,  means  and  end.  on  the  other.  We  even  abstract 


§  380.  THINKING    AND   THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE.  385 

and  generalize  our  very  acts  or  processes  of  thinking,  and  view  them  apart 
from  the  individual  examples  or  cases  in  which  they  actually  occur.  We 
ask,  What  is  it  to  conceive,  to  generalize,  to  judge,  to  reason,  to  infer — 
nay,  what  is  it  itself  to  think  ?  We  discuss  the  nature  and  origin  of  these 
conceptions,  and  their  relations  to  one  another,  and  to  the  objects  to 
which  they  are  applied,  and  to  the  rest  of  our  knowledge. 

Concrete  think'ng  is  performed  by  every  human  being  whose  powers  are  fully 
fretlb°  rtiinSag  devel°Ped-  A11  men  freely  aPPty  its  original  conceptions  and  relations.  By 
performed?  means  of  them  they  know  sensible  and  spiritual  objects,  so  far  as  they  know 

them  at  all.  A  stone  or  an  apple,  a  horse  or  a  dog,  a  house  or  a  church,  a 
spirit  or  a  person,  each  and  all  are  known  as  beings,  and  are  distinguished  and  defined  by 
certain  attributes  or  properties.  One  of  these  acts  upon  another,  as  cause  producing  an  effect. 
One  alters  the  form  of  another,  scatters  its  particles,  unites  them  in  a  new  form,  or  produces 
a  new  existence.  The  fire  causes  the  gunpowder  to  explode  ;  the  magnet  attracts  the  iron ; 
the  spirit  moves  the  body,  and,  by  means  of  its  own  body  moves  other  bodies  also,  and  ex- 
presses itself  by  motions,  looks,  and  words. 

In  myriad  forms,  objects  are  familiarly  known  by  us  as  substances  and  attributes,  as 
causes  and  effects,  as  means  and  ends.  In  the  concrete  form,  all  these  conceptions  are  present 
in  the  language,  and  familiar  to  the  minds  of  the  most  uninstructed  men.  They  animate  and 
direct  all  their  actions  in  common  life.  They  are  the  grounds  of  their  opinions  and  beliefs. 
They  excite  their  hopes,  arouse  their  fears,  and  move  all  the  springs  of  feeling. 

But  when  these  conceptions  are  abstracted,  and  viewed  apart  from  individual 
Difficulty  of  ab-  beings,  they  are  not  easily  made  familiar  to  the  mind  without  a  special  disci- 
stract  thinking.  piine>  jt  js  oniy  a  few  men  who  p08sess  the  tastes  or  the  training  which 

qualify  them  familiarly  to  deal  with  or  rightly  to  understand  thought-concep- 
tions when  abstracted  from  concrete  things.  Skill  in  using,  and  discrimination  in  understand, 
ing  them,  can  only  be  acquired  by  patient  and  concentrated  efforts. 

Each  of  these  classes  of  men  are  exposed  to  a  special  danger.  Those  who  are 
Enr0^fh'° k th0fe  accustomed  to  the^e  conceptions  only  in -the  concrete,  and  who  have  no 
iu  the  concrete.  familiarity  with  them  when  presented  in  the  abstract,  do  not  readily  assent 

to  their  reality,  when  thus  taken  out  of  their  applications  and  made  the  objects 
of  philosophical  analysis.  They  stare  at  these  abstractions  as  at  pallid  ghosts,  that  rralk 
abroad  only  at  midnight,  and  are  scared  by  the  broad  and  bright  light  of  the  open  day.  1  hey 
even  question  their  validity,  and  the  authority  of  the  processes  by  which  they  are  forrued. 
Though  they  prove  themselves  to  be  their  every-day  acquaintances,  they  can  scarcely  co?opel 
recognition  on  account  of  their  strange  clothing.  If  recognition  is  at  last  compelled  and 
conceded,  men  untrained  to  abstraction  are  never  quite  easy  in  their  presence,  or  read  j  ta 
trust  them  in  their  uncommon  and  unfamiliar  garb. 

Those  trained  to  philosophical  thinking  often  rush  into  the  opposite  error. 

those    who     They  treat  these  abstract  conceptions  as  independent  entities.     They  believe 

stract.  that  these  ghostly  creations  have  veritable  flesh  and  blood.     Because  they 

are  denoted  by  nouns  and  receive  separate  appellations,  they  are  considered 
and  treated  as  things.  Those  who  analyze  and  discuss  them,  often  forget  that  the  only  exist- 
ing beings  are  material  things  and  spiritual  agents,  and  that  it  is  only  as  attached  to  these  that 
these  abstract  conceptions  and  relations  can  have  actual  force ;  as  it  is  by  these  only  that 
their  true  nature  can  be  understood.  These  existing  beings  alone  both  exist  and  are  known, 
and  stand  in  certain  relations  to  one  another,  and  to  the  being  which  knows  them.  They 
cannot  be  known  in  the  concrete,  or  as  individuals,  except  as  individual  beings  with  individual 
attributes,  as  individual  causes  capable  of  individual  effects,  as  individually  adapted  to  indi- 
vidual ends.  To  these  individual  truths  or  facts  concerning  individual  beings,  must  all  the 
25 


386  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT,  g  382. 

abstractions  of  thought  be  brought  back.     They  must  all  be  translated  into  these,  in  order  to 
have  any  meaning  or  any  truth. 

K elation  of  §381.  There  is  no  natural  antagonism  between  knowledge 
experience  and  by  experience  and  knowledge  by  thought,  or,  as  it  is  some- 
times called,  the  knowledge  of  individual  facts  and  the 
knowledge  of  truths.  Those  who  insist  that  what  we  observe  by  the 
senses  or  experience  in  consciouriess  is  the  only  knowledge  on  which  we 
can  rely,  overlook  the  fact  that  nothing  can  be  known  by  observation  or 
experience  which  is  not  also  known  in  some  of  its  attributes,  effects,  or 
uses,  and  that  it  cannot  be  expressed  in  human  language  without  being 
generalized,  expressed  in  propositions,  and  used  in  deduction  and  induc- 
tion. They  do  not  notice  that  no  human  being  can  observe  facts  without 
thinking  those  facts. 

On  the  other  hand,  thinking,  without  deriving  our  thoughts  from  and  testing  them  by 
Indh  idual  examples,  is  no  thinking  at  all,  because  it  violates  the  very  definition  and  concep- 
tion of  thinking  which  makes  it  begin  in  the  actual  with  individual  perceptions  and  expe- 
riem  es,  and  proceed  by  generalizing  what  it  observes.  Facts  unconnected  by  those  relations 
of  thought  by  which  they  are  conceived,  classified,  explained,  and  described,  are  barren  of 
all  interest  and  unproductive  of  all  use.  Thoughts,  as  mere  abstractions,  are  the  vaguest  and 
driest  of  all  phantasms,  except  as  they  are  exemplified  by  facts.  Facts  without  thought-rela- 
tions are  poor  and  barren.  Thoughts  without  facts  are  empty  and  useless. 

Relation    of    §  382.    Thinking  is  aided  by  language,  and,  to  a  great  ex- 
to  lan"    tent,  ig  dependent  upon  it  as  its  most  efficient  instrument 
and  auxiliary.     But  thinking  is  not  constituted  by,  but,  on 
he  contrary,  itself  originates  and  gives  form  and  law  to  language. 

The  connection  between  thought  and  language  is  so  intimate,  that  we 
shall  have  occasion  to  refer  to  it  again  and  again.  One  or  two  general 
remarks  in  respect  to  it,  seem  here  to  be  in  place.  The  reason  why 
"jhought  requires  such  an  instrument  and  assistant  as  language,  is,  that  the 
objects  of  thinking  are  generalized  objects,  and  to  such  objects  there  are 
and  there  can  be  no  realities  actually  existing.  The  results  or  products  of 
our  thinking  are  not  manifested  by  any  changes  which  are  actually  effected 
in  material  or  spiritual  objects.  When  we  observe  a  countless  number  of 
similar  animals  and  group  them  into  a  class,  we  do  riot  impress  by  these 
acts  any  changes  upon  their  structure  or  their  habits.  We  may  classify 
and  arrange  them  into  a  complete  and  well-ordered  system,  but  we  do  not 
add  to  or  take  from  them  as  individuals  a  single  property.  The  same  is 
true  of  spiritual  beings  and  acts.  Nothing  passes  over  to  the  objects  thought, 
which  shows  how  we  have  thought  and  classed  them.  In  the  knowledge 
by  sense,  the  same  object  reminds  us  that  we  have  seen  it  before,  or  an 
object  once  seen  is  itself  suggested  to  our  memory  and  recognized  as 
previously  known.  So,  in  spiritual  acts,  one  individual  is  recognized  aa 
so  like  another  that  we  call  it  the  same.  But  thought-generalizations 
have  no  such  objects  by  which  they  can  be  recalled  and  tested.  It  is  only 


g  382.  THINKING   AND   THOUGHT-KNOWLEDGE.  387 

by  language — the  sound  to  the  ear,  and  its  symbol  for  tie  eye — that  the 
products  of  our  activity  can  be  fixed  so  as  to  be  the  objects  of  recall 
and  future  use.  Hence  words  spring  into  being  as  fast  as  definite  con 
ceptions  are  formed.  Hence  it  is  as  natural  for  man  to  speak  as  it  is 
to  think,  and  man  'speaks  because  he  thinks.'  The  name  petrifies,  pre. 
^serves,  and  exhibits  the  flitting  concept  as  in  a  crystal  shrine,  both  hard 
and  clear.  The  proposition  embodies  the  judgment  for  the  use  of  the 
man  who  first  thinks  it,  and  who  expresses  it  to  stimulate  the  thinking 
of  others.  In  applying  names,  we  must  enter  somewhat  into  the  nature 
and  properties  of  the  objects  for  which  they  stand.  In  defining  terms, 
we  must  be  guided  to  their  meaning  by  observing  the  things  to  which 
they  are  applied.  In  accepting  or  rejecting  propositions,  we  must  think 
of  the  relations  of  the  objects  which  they  concern. 

It  follows  that,  as  an  individual  who  is  limited  in  his  thinking  will  require  and 
A  ,imited  Ian-  use  only  a  limited  vocabulary,  so  it  will  be  with  a  community.  Wherever  we 
ttmitcd  thought!  find  a  language  scanty  in  the  number  and  meagre  in  the  import  of  its  words, 

or  a  language  which  is  limited  in  the  combinations  and  relations  of  its  syntax, 
we  always  infer  that  the  thinking  of  the  people  who  formed  or  used  this  language  was  im- 
perfectly developed. 

It  follows,  also,  that  the  study  of  words  must  be  a  study  and  discipline  of 
The  study  of  thought.  To  master  a  language  that  is  rich  in  its  vocabulary,  requires  that 
of°thought!tU  we  contemplate  the  nicer  shades  of  thought  which  are  expressed  by  the 

endless  variety  of  the  conceptions  which  are  embodied  in  its  words.  If  it  is 
complicated  in  its  structure,  we  must  discriminate  all  the  delicate  relations  which  this  syntax 
expresses  or  suggests,  and  trace  them  through  all  the  variety  of  forms  in  which  they  are 
expressed.  No  language  can  be  dead  to  the  intelligent  student.  Its  thoughts  are  enshrined, 
not  buried ;  for  they  can  be  made  living  at  the  call  of  the  mind  which  thinks  them  over 
again,  long  after  the  minds  which  first  conceived  them  have  passed  from  the  earth.  Accord- 
ing as  these  thoughts  were  crudely  conceived  or  delicately  distinguished,  so  is  the  language 
itself  rough  or  polished,  awkward  in  its  structure,  or  plastic  as  the  living  spirits  which  moulded 
it.  The  delicate  tissue  of  words  reflects  the  varying  shades  of  thought,  feeling,  and  opinion 
that  run  through  every  part  of  the  fabric,  like  threads  of  silk  and  gold. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  words  in  no  sense  constitute  thought,  as  some 
hastily  infer.  Language  is  simply  thought  expressed,  though  the  thought 
is  made  permanent  by  being  expressed.  It  is  formed  by  the  thinking 
powei,  because  this  requires  for  its  development  and  perfection  a  sensible 
expression  of  its  inner  processes,  and  seeks  a  permanent  embodiment  and 
record  of  their  results. 


388  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §383, 

CHAPTER    H. 

THOUGHT — THE    FORMATION    OP   THE    CONCEPT    OR   NOTION, 

THINKING  has  been  already  defined  as  that  series  of  processes  by  which  we  form  and  apph 
general  notions  or  concepts.  It  is  obvious  that  the  first  act  in  this  series  of  processes  is 
to  form  or  develop  these  products.  The  consideration  of  the  process  will  instruct  us  as  to 
the  nature  of  the  product.  The  psychological  knowledge  of  the  acts  by  which  we  attain 
the  concept,  will  instruct  us  as  to  its  nature  and  definition,  and  prepare  us  to  understand  the 
other  thought-processes  to  which  it  is  preparatory,  as  well  as  to  evolve  those  metaphysical 
beliefs  and  original  notions  which  it  presupposes.  All  will  agree  that  the  greater  part  of 
our  general  notions  are  formed  or  acquired  by  the  exercise  of  the  soul's  own  energy 
However  earnestly  or  positively  some  may  insist  that  a  part  of  our  notions  are  innate, 
none  will  deny  that  the  great  variety  of  notions  which  we  apply  to  common  objects  aro 
acquired  by  special  mental  acts. 

Material  objects  §  383.  We  begin  with  the  concepts  of  material  objects,  such 
concept s ea°re  as  a  stone,  an  apple,  a  horse;  and  observe  that  such  objects 

must  be  perceived,  in  part  at  least,  before  we  form  general 
notions  of  them.  We  do  not  insist  that  the  process  of  perception  should 
be  complete  before  the  act  of  generalizing  begins.  It  is  not  necessary 
that  all  the  percepts  appropriate  to  the  several  senses  should  be  gained, 
and  that  these  should  be  united  under  all  their  relations,  before  general- 
ization commences.  Still  less  is  it  intended  that  all  the  acquired  percep- 
tions should  be  mastered  ;  for  generalization  may  assist  sense  perception  in 
these  higher  combinations  and  acts.  It  is  necessary,  however,  that  a 
percept  should  go  before  a  concept  in  the  order  of  time,  as  it  is  the 
foundation  for  it  in  the  relation  of  logical  subordination.  A  general 
notion  requires  individual  objects  to  which  it  can  be  applied ;  and  indi- 
vidual objects  in  the  material  world  can  only  be  known  by  perception. 

The  mind  begins  to  generalize  as  soon   as   it  knows   that 

Perceived  objects  ,  ._,.,.  -•./*»  .-,..-,,  n 

are  known  to  be  several  perceived  objects  are  different  as  individuals,  and  yet 
are  in  any  one  respect  alike.  Before  generalization,  they 
may  be  known  confusedly  or  known  vaguely.  The  perceptions  from  the 
many  objects  may  be  taken  to  be  one  through  careless  inattention,  or  may 
be  known  as  many,  and  yet  be  neither  clearly  distinguished  as  apart,  nor 
clearly  united  as  similar.  As  soon,  however,  as  they  are  distinguished, 
as  not  the  same,  and  yet  as  united  by  a  common  likeness,  the  process  of 
generalization  has  begun.  This  process  is  possible  even  with  single  per- 
cepts. If  ten  patches  of  red  color,  of  the  same  form,  dimensions,  and 
intensity,  were  presented  to  the  eye,  the  mind  might  gather,  or  conceive, 
or  grasp  them  together,  by  their  common  redness,  and  form  a  general 
notion  of  them ;  separating  them  as  many  by  their  distinguished  or 
distinct  position  in  space,  and  yet  uniting  them  as  one  by  the  single 
similarity  of  color. 

If  these  ten  red  <liscs  of  color,  by  the  use  of  the  remaining  senses,  are 


§  384.  THE   FORMATION    OF   THE   CONCEPT   OR   NOTION.  386 

afterwards  known  to  be  ten  red  apples,  i.  e.  if  other  points  of  likeness  are 
perceived,  the  generalization  is  more  complex  in  its  materials,  but  the 
process  is  the  same.  What  is  the  process  ?  What  are  the  elements  or 
separable  acts  which  it  involves  ? 

The  process   involves   an  act  of  analysis  or  attentive  dis- 

This       involves          ...  „..  .     ,  .  ' ,          '  ,  .    ,     . 

analysis  of  their  crimination.  The  mind  must  notice  that  which  is  common, 
and  distinguish  it  from  that  which  is  diverse.  That  which 
is  diverse  must  have  been  noticed  when  the  individuals  were  perceived. 
In  generalization,  the  mind  goes  one  step  further :  it  discerns,  by  a  sepa- 
rate act,  that  which  is  common.  This  act  is  an  act  of  comparison.  Its 
appropriate  object  is  likeness  or  diversity.  It  discerns  it  first  as  similar, 
•i.  e.  the  red,  or  whatever  it  may  be.  It  takes  this  similar  to  be  the  same, 
and,  so  regarding  it,  finds  it  in  every  one  of  the  individual  objects.  This 
similar  something,  conceived  as  common  to  many  objects  distinguished  as 
individuals,  is  a  general  conception,  notion  or  concept. 

The  individuals  are,  in  common  language,  called  beings ;  that  similar  some- 
Be'ish?Sd  difron"  *hin£  which  is  common  to  all,  is  their  attribute.  The  individuals  are  called 
their  attributes,  beings,  because,  as  we  have  previously  explained,  every  object  of  direct 

knowledge  is  a  being.  Every  object  directly  known  as  diverse  in  space  or 
time,  is  a  separate  or  different  bein?.  But,  by  comparison,  we  know  these  beings  in  a  new 
relation,  as  being  similar  in  one  particular.  This  similar  something  is  not  a  being,  for  it  is 
discerned  in  all,  and  known  of  all,  of  one  as  well  as  of  another.  This  is  called  their  attribute, 
because  it  is  asserted  of  each,  or  attributed  to  each.  It  is  also  called  property,  quality,  pred- 
icable,  etc.,  etc.,  for  reasons  which  are  purely  logical,  and  which  will  be  explained  in  their 
place. 

Abstraction;  to  §  384'  ^ne  mental  acts  which  we  have  described,  are  farnil- 
and  to  ^arty  known  as  follows :  The  act  of  analytic  attention  by 
which  that  element  in  each  of  these  objects  which  is  like 
its  fellow  in  every  other,  is  separately  observed  or  noticed,  is  usually 
called  abstraction,  because  the  mind  draws  it  away  from  the  other  parts 
or  percepts.  Kant  and  Hamilton  say  that  abstraction  refers  to  that  from 
•which  the  mind  withdraws  itself,  while  it  prescinds  the  similar  to  which 
it  attends.  Thus,  in  the  example  cited,  the  mind  prescinds  the  redness, 
and  abstracts  its  attention  from  all  the  remaining  attributes. 

The  next  step  is,  to  perceive  by  comparison  that  the  several 
Comparison.         objects  to  which  we  thus  separately  attend,  are  alike.     This 
is  to  compare,  or  to  know  by  comparison. 
The  next  step  is,  to  consider  these  several  similars  as  the 
Generalization,     same,  as  one  something  which  is    common  to  all  the  indi- 
viduals perceived.     This  is  to  generalize — to  make  general — 
more  properly,  mentally  to  think  o'r  affirm  a  common  something  of  all 
these  individuals.    The  similar  red,  or  round,  or  sweet,  or  bitter,  is  made 
one,  and,  as  one,  is  regarded  as  common  to  each  of  the  different  indi- 
viduals.    Which  of  these  acts  is  first  performed,  is  immaterial — whether 
the    mind  seems    to  generalize    before  it    abstracts,  or  the  reverse ;  01 


590  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  385. 

whether  it  attends,  compares,  and  generalizes  all  in  one.  It  is  all  the 
same  as  to  both  process  and  product,  whether  we  separate  the  rednesa 
from  the  first  apple  which  we  perceive,  before  we  apply  it  to  the  many, 
or  are  stimulated  by  observing  many  red  apples  to  notice  and  abstract 
that  which  is  alike  and  common,  or  whether  the  points  of  difference  ex- 
cite us  to  generalize  the  one,  or  more,  in  which  the  objects  are  alike. 

Again,  when  this  common  something  has  thus  been  general 

The       attribute      .-,,,.,          ,  .  .  ,  ,.    ^ 

affirmabie  of  ized  by  like  objects,  it  can  be  applied  to  any  and  every  other 
object  to  which  it  is  appropriate.  Thus,  round,  after  being 
thought  of  a  single  class,  as  of  apples  or  balls,  may  be  thought  of  all 
objects  that  are  round — as  of  the  vast  spheres  which  are  hung  in  the 
heavens,  or  of  globules  so  minute  as  to  be  indiscernible  by  the  naked  eye. 

These  processes  are  performed  by  all  men  whose  higher  powers  are  at  all 
These  processes  developed.  Every  such  man  knows  what  they  are,  for  they  all  abstract, 
men.  compare,  and  generalize  with  equal  ease,  though  not  to  the  same  extent  or 

with  equal  perfection.  All  men  do  not  discern  with  equal  readiness  that 
which  is  alike  and  that  which  is  different  in  individual  objects.  There  are  shades  of  color, 
peculiarities  of  form,  varieties  of  taste  and  soutid,  which  some  men  can  never  distinguish  as 
either  alike  or  unlike,  with  the  utmost  energy  of  attention.  Many  more  are  not  reached, 
through  indolence,  or  carelessness  of  attention.  There  are  others  still,  to  discern  which  we 
need  a  special  discipline :  as  the  training  of  the  painter's  eye,  the  musician's  ear,  or  the 
mechanic's  touch.  There  are  abstractions,  however,  which  all  men  make  who  think  at  all, 
even  the  rudest  and  the  youngest.  There  are  generalizations  also,  to  which  all  are  compe- 
tent, and  which  all  men  habitually  perform. 

Presuppose  the  §  385.  It  has  been  already  observed,  that  these  processes 
substance1  and  develop  and  presuppose  the  distinction  of  substance  and 
attribute — i.  e.,  of  being  and  distinguishing  relations.  The 
individual  apples  of  which  we  think  the  redness  are  beings,  the  redness  is 
their  common  attribute.  What  is  the  nature  of,  and  what  the  authority  by 
which  we  make  this  distinction,  we  do  not  propose  here  to  inquire.  For 
our  present  purposes,  it  is  sufficient  that  we  call  attention  to  the  fact  that 
it  is  fundamental  to  the  process  of  forming  the  notion,  and  that  it  must 
be  assumed  as  real,  and  be  firmly  believed  by  the  mind. 

One  thing  only  we  observe :  The  distinction  is  not  discerned  by  the  mind 

TMs  distinction    through  the  organs  of  sense.     We  abstract  one  sensible  quality  after  another, 

not  discerned  by 

bense-perception.     and  we  still  say  the  being  remains.     When  every  sensible  quality,  save  one^ 

is  conceived  to  be  removed,  we  even  then  distinguish  what  remains  as  substance 
and  attribute.  We  cannot  take  away  one  quality  after  another,  as  we  lay  off  the  folds  of  a 
crystal  or  the  layers  of  an  onion,  and  find  a  material  nucleus,  or  core,  which  is  itself  a  simple 
being,  without  attributes  or  qualities ;  for  what  remains  is  as  truly  a  being  and  an  attribute 
as  that  with  which  we  began.  So  far  as  the  senses  are  concerned,  what  we  call  the  qualities 
and  being  are  blended  in  one  and  constitute  a  whole,  and  yet  we  believe  that  the  two  are 
diverse  from  one  another,  and  that  every  mind  assumes  the  distinction  to  be  valid  and  real. 
It  is  only  when  we  analyze  the  thinking  process  and  its  product  by  a  reflex  and  generalizing 
act,  that  we  find  that  we  cannot  affirm  the  similars  conceived  as  the  same,  to  be  common  tc 


§386.  THE   FORMATION    OF   THE    CONCEPT    OR   NOTION,  391 

every  individual,  without  framing  a  thought  or  mental  something  which  is  distinguishable  from 

fche  beings  to  which  it  belongs. 

We  rest  here,  at  present,  with  this  discovery,  which  points  to  further  inquiries— viz.,  tha, 

the  distinctive  or  differing  conceptions  of  being  and  attribute  are  not  discerned  by  sense-per 

ception,  but  are  evolved  in  the  processes  of  thought. 

By  the  same  method,  we  prove  that  they  are  not  discerned  by  our  conscious 

Nor  strictly     experience  of  single  spiritual  acts  or  slates.     Though  it  be  essential  to  each 

consciousness.         one  of  such  acts  or  states,  that  they  be  performed  or  suffered  by  the  identi- 
cal ego,  yet  these  acts  or  states  must  first  be  abstracted,  compared,  and 

generalized,  before  they  are  known  as  attributes,  and  the  ego  is  known  as  a  being,  or  the 

subject  or  substance  of  common  attributes.     Of  spiritual  as  really  as  of  material  attributes 

and  beings,  it  is  true  that  their  concepts  or  notions  are  evolved  and  discerned  by  thought. 

The  further  discussion  of  the  import  and  origin  of  these  correlates  must  be  reserved  for 

another  place.    [Cf.  P.  IV.  C.  VII.] 

The  product,  a  §  386.  The  product  of  the  processes  which  have  been  con 
ttonC.epimportnSf  sidered,  is  called  a  concept  or  notion.  We  employ  these 

terms  because  they  may  be  made  precise  in  their  import  and 
technical  in  their  use.  Conception  is  sometimes  used ;  but  conception  is, 
ill  our  English  philosophy,  used  indiscriminately  for  any  and  every  object 
of  the  mind's  cognition,  or  else  is  arbitrarily  limited,  as  by  Dugald  Stewart, 
to  the  individual  object  of  representation ;  thus  made  equivalent  to  image. 
Abstract  general  conception  (or  even  general  conception),  is  sufficiently 
precise  in  its  import,  but  is  too  cumbrous  for  common  use.  Concept  and 
notion  have  each,  in  their  etymology,  a  special  signification  appropriate  to 
one  aspect  or  feature  of  the  product  to  which  both  are  applied.  Concept 
signifies  that  which  is  grasped  or  held  together,  and  refers  us  to  the  act 
by  which  different  similar  attributes  are  treated  as  one,  or  the  same  act  by 
which  separate  individual  beings  are  united  as  one  by  their  common  attri- 
bute or  attributes.  Notion,  on  the  other  hand,  indicates  that  which  is  or 
may  be  known  by  certain  signs  or  marks,  notce — i.  e.,  constituting,  denn- 
ing, and  distinguishing  attributes.  Concept  refers  us  to  the  psychological 
process  by  which  the  product  is  formed ;  notion,  to  the  uses  to  which  it 
is  applied.  Both  may  be  properly  employed  as  technical  and  scientific 
designations. 

The  reality  of  any  such  mental  product  or  thought-object 

The    reality    of  ..,,-,111  •          -, 

the  product    has  been  questioned  chiefly  by  those  who  have  misunderstood 

questioned.  _        , 

or  misconceived  its  nature.  Its  import  or  nature  has  been 
imperfectly  or  vaguely  estimated  even  by  many  who  have  believed  in  its 
reality.  It  is  only  by  explaining  its  nature,  both  negatively  and  positively, 
that  its  reality  can  be  vindicated  and  established. 

The  concept  is  not  a  percept,  nor  is  its  object  an  object  as 
0"  a  Perceived.  This  last  is  strictly  individual ;  the  concept  is 

uniformly  general.  The  one  differs  from  the  other  in  the 
conditions  which  occasion  it,  the  process  from  which  it  comes,  and  the 
result  which  is  evolved.  In  order  to  prove  this  beyond  question,  we  have 


392  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  387 

only  to  ask  what  the  mind  knows  when  it  sees  a  man,  and  what  it  thinks 
of  when  it  utters  the  word  man,  and  applies  it  in  thought  to  the 
human  species.  No  one  can  doubt  that  the  two  objects  of  cognition 
are  diverse,  even  though  he  may  not  easily  explain  in  what  this  difference 
consists. 

The  concept  is  not  a  mental  image,  or  the  object  of  the 
toage.8'  mental  mind's  cognition  in  representation.  We  recall  an  individual 

percept,  one  or  many  ;  or  we  form,  by  creation,  some  image 
unlike  any  which  we  have  in  fact  perceived.  These  objects  are,  as  truly 
as  percepts,  clearly  distinguishable  from  that  which  the  mind  thinks  or 
knows  when  it  uses  a  general  term.  It  is  not  asserted  that  the  mind  is 
not  aided  by  percepts  and  images,  in  forming,  recalling,  and  applying  its 
notions,  but  only  that  they  are  not  the  same,  and  should  not  be  con- 
fouaded. 

Again,  it  is  not  asserted  that  there  is  any  individual  being,  or  any  being 
No  existing  in- 
dividual   corre-     existing  in  fact  or  nature,  which  answers  precisely  to  any  concept  or  notion. 

ceru?ept  *°  There  is  no  such  thing  existing  as  a  man  or  tree  in  general,  but  only  indi- 

vidual men  and  trees.  The  notion  exists  only  in  the  mind  which  forms  it, 
and  in  the  mind  which  receives  -t  from  another,  forming  it  over  again  for  itself  in  the  act  of 
receiving  and  using  it.  If  it  be  asked,  How,  then,  is  it  that  these  notions  are  denoted  by 
fixed  terms  that  are  universal  in  all  generations  and  have  their  synonyms  in  all  languages  ? 
We  reply  :  The  human  mind  generalizes  by  similar  processes,  and  is  furnished  with  similar 
objects,  having  the  same  essential  and  common  relations.  Hence,  each  man  forms  the  same 
notions  with  every  other,  so  far  as  each  uses  the  same  powers  upon  the  same  objects  with 
similar  fidelity  and  attention. 


is  a  relative  ob-  '  °^>serve  positively  i  the  concept  is  a  purely  rela- 

Se  of  fcnowl-  tive  object  of  knowledge.  Ihis  is  its  distinctive  feature, 
that  it  has  definite  relations  to  objects  of  sense  and  conscious- 
ness. So  far  from  forming  an  objection  to  the  possibility,  the  reality,  or 
the  significance  of  such  an  object  of  thought,  that  it  is  not  like  an  object 
of  sense  or  experience  ;  this  very  circumstance  proves  its  possibility  and 
provides  for  its  credibility.  As  a  mental  product  and  mental  object,  it  is 
purely  relative,  being  formed  by  the  mind  and  understood  by  the  mind  as 
indifferently  common  to  single  objects  ;  as,  so  to  speak,  held  ever  ready 
by  the  mind  to  be  affirmed  of,  and  restored  to,  the  single  objects  to  which 
it  relates.  These  objects  only  enable  the  mind  to  understand  its  import. 
The  individual  things  to  w7hich  it  relates,  give  to  it  its  significance  and 
utility.  Without  these,  it  is  a  no-thing,  an  unintelligible  and  unreal 
fancy.  This  peculiarity  of  the  concept  is  implied  in  its  various  appella 
lions.  It  is  called  a  general,  that  is,  capable  of  being  thought  of  many 
ndividuals,  which  are  thereby  grouped  into  or  conceived  as  a  class.  It 
is  called  also  a  predicable,  by  its  very  nature  capable  of  being  affirmed  or 
thought  of  single  objects.  It  is  a  universal  —  i.  e.,  pertaining  equally  to 
all  the  individuals  to  which  it  belongs. 


§389.  THE   FORMATION   OF   THE   CONCEPT    OR   NOTION.  393 

The  relative  character  of  the  concept  is  still  further  expressed  by  the  asser. 
In  wfat  rnse  is  tion,  that  the  knowledge  which  it  gives  is  symbolical  only.  Under  this  view, 
Byr<»liolTC<  l  Concepts  are  viewed  as  being  like  to  mathematical  characters  or  symbols. 
They  have  no  import  and  impart  no  knowledge  when  used  apart  from  the 
objects  to  which  they  relate,  but  serve  an  important  purpose  in  enabling  us  to  recall  oui 
previous  observations  of  comparison  and  analysis.  They  also  fix  such  observations,  so  that 
we  can  avail  ourselves  of  them  at  a  subsequent  time.  They  assist  others  in  making  the  same 
observations  more  surely  and  readily.  But  aside  from  their  application,  they  are  as  meaning- 
less and  dry  as  4,re  the  characters  and  signs  of  a  mathematical  formula  (cf.  §  427). 

Others  have  contended,  that  the  only  symbol  required  is  the  word ;  that 
Flie  CthaCei>«  liames>  or  general  terms,  are  the  only  characters  required  for  the  purposes 
name.  above  described ;  that  the  concept  or  notion,  when  regarded  as  intervening 

between  the  name  and  the  individual  object,  is  a  mere  fiction.  This  view, 
so  earnestly  urged  by  the  nominalists  of  ancient  and  modern  times,  and  by  some  eminent 
philologists,  is  exposed  to  the  following  objections  :  First,  there  could  be  no  generalization  or 
thought-knowledge  without  language.  This  consequence  is  set  aside  by  the  notorious  fact 
that  deaf-mutes  can  generalize  without  the  use  of  written  or  spoken  terms,  and  even  without 
any  language  whatever.  The  sign-language  which  they  use  when  without  culture,  is  but 
the  painting  of  individual  objects  or  acts.  Second,  general  terms,  when  used  as  symbols, 
do  not  symbolize  sensible  or  individual  objects  as  such,  but  only  elements,  attributes,  or  parts 
which  are  separated  by  analysis,  and  compared  as  like  or  unlike.  If  these  mental  operations 
did  not  separate  and  fix  these  objects,  the  words  would  have  no  meaning ;  they  would  have 
nothing  to  symbolize,  they  would  stand  for  nothing,  they  would  signify  nothing.  Let  it  be 
granted  that  what  they  do  signify  cannot  be  known  except  in  its  relation  to  individual  beings, 
and  by  means  of  these  beings  or  those  which  are  like  them,  it  does  not  follow  that  when 
these  objects  are  before  the  mind  it  does  not  find  that  in  relation  to  them,  which  is  conceived 
by  itself,  and  then  signified  by  language. 

That  in  the  individual  objects  which  the  mind  can  distinguish  by  analysis,  and  then 
recombine  by  synthesis,  is  not  now  the  subject  of  our  inquiries.  We  assume  that  these 
individual  objects  are  capable  of  being  thus  analyzed  into  relations,  properties,  and  attributes, 
and  that  these  relations,  etc.,  can  be  discerned  to  be  like,  and  thus  united  under  a  common 
concept,  wluch  concept  is  by  its  very  nature  applicable  to  every  one  of  these  objects. 

The  conco  t  re-    §  388*    Again :  as  being  this  common  and  relative  thing,  the 
Bpi-cts  attributes    concept  respects  only  the  similar  attributes  of  individuals,  or 

or  relations.  «7  _ 

such  as  might  be  supposed  to  be  alike.  It  respects  those 
elements  which  analysis  can  separate  as  individually  distinct  and  compari- 
son can  unite  as  alike.  Attributes,  properties,  and  relations,  are  the  only 
objects  which  it  respects.  These  are  first  discerned,  then  compared,  then 
united  into  a  single  thought-object.  This  object  is  the  concept  or  notion. 

Herein  lies  the  difference  between  the  act  of  a  brute  and  the  act  of  a  man  in 
Can  brutes  form  perceiving  objects  that  are  alike.  In  one  sense,  the  brute  may  perceive  what 
concepts?  js  sjmiiar  as  readily  as  a  man;  hi  some  cases,  even  more  quickh,  for  his 

senses  may  be  more  keen.  If  he  has  been  ill-treated  or  frightened  by  any 
other  animal  or  any  other  thing,  whatever  is  like  it  will  be  avoided  at  once.  But  the  brute 
does  not  attend  and  analyze  as  does  a  man.  Hence  he  cannot  discriminate  so  as  to  abstract ; 
or,  at  beat,  the  degree  and  range  of  such  efforts  must  be  very  limited.  His  power  to  ccmpare 
and  discern  the  like  and  the  unlike,  would  for  this  reason,  be  lame  and  feeble  if  no  other 
were  suggested.  Should  it  be  granted  that  the  brute  can  discern  similar  attributes,  it 
has  no  power  at  all  to  conceive  oc  think  the  similar  as  the  same.  It  cannot  form  and  use  a 


384  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §389 

concept  as  founded  on  attributes  and  as  common  to  individual  beings.  Hence,  the  brute  is 
incapable  of  language.  He  may  utter  sounds  and  cries,  which  instinct  extorts  and  to  which 
the  instinct  of  the  hearer  responds,  and  thus  the  voice  and  ear  of  the  animal  tribes  may  serve 
some  of  the  useful  and  social  endg  which  language  accomplishes  in  man  ;  but  the  brute  is 
incapable  of  language  as  the  signs  of  concepts,  because  he  is  incapable  of  thought.  He  can- 
not form  aud  use  a  concept,  and  therefore  he  can  neither  speak  nor  understand  a  single  word. 
Even  the  parrot,  that  miracle  of  talkers,  is  incapable  of  language,  and  never  utters  what  de. 
serves  to  be  called  a  word. 


The  concept  re-  observe  sti11  further,  that  all  which  the  concept  contem- 

spccts  relations  plates  or  signifies,  is  these  common  attributes  which  are 
discerned  in  the  individuals  to  which  it  is  applied.  These 
attributes  are  its  proper  and  sole  import  or  signification.  The  concept, 
as  such,  is  not  at  all  concerned  with  the  number  of  individuals  in  which 
these  attributes  are  found,  or  with  anything  else  which  may  be  true  of 
them.  It  is  ah1  the  same  to  our  thinking  and  to  the  concept  which  we 
form  by  thinking,  whether  the  tree  of  which  we  make  and  use  the  notion, 
is  here  or  there  ;  is  high  or  low  ;  is  the  tree  which  we  have  often  seen  and 
admired,  or  the  tree  which  is  ten  thousand  miles  distant  ;  is  the  tallest  of 
the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  or  of  the  firs  of  California,  or  the  most  dwarfed 
and  stunted  on  the  coldest  mountain  summit.  It  is  even  indifferent 
whether  it  actually  exists  or  not  ;  it  is  only  essential  that  it  be  made  up 
by  the  mind  of  the  actual  constituents  of  every  object  that  is  properly 
called  a  tree. 

So  of  the  notion  of  man.  It  is  of  no  importance  whether  we  apply  it  to  this  or  that 
man,  to  a  tall  or  short,  a  black  or  a  white  man,  to  the  man  whom  we  love  or  the  man  whom 
we  hate,  or  whether  we  apply  it  to  any  man  at  all,  so  long  as  we  make  it  to  stand  for  the 
attributes  that  properly  belong  to  every  one  who  is  indeed  a  man.  So  far  as  the  signification 
is  concerned,  the  noun  man,  the  adjective  human,  and  the  abstractuin  humanity,  are  precisely 
the  same.  The  three  denote  only  a  single  concept,  viz.,  that  composed  of  the  attributes  which 
belong  to  men.  But  why,  then,  are  three  words  employed,  if  their  import  is  the  same  ? 
Why  are  general  terms  divided  into  nouns,  adjectives,  and  abstracta  ?  We  answer  :  The  dif 
ference  of  these  words  concerns  their  application,  and  the  convenience  of  language  for  brief 
and  condensed  expression.  It  does  not  in  the  least  regard  the  import  of  the  concept  common 
to  the  three  terms. 

Concepts  as  con-  §  389>  ^  *8  imP°rtant  to  notice,  however,  that  in  their 
'Tract  and  ab"  applicati°n>  concepts  are  distinguished  as  concrete  and 
abstract.  The  concrete  notion  contemplates  attributes,  and 
is  applied  to  beings  existing.  The  abstract  notion  treats  an  attribute  as 
though  it  were  itself  such  a  being.  Of  the  three  notions  named,  man 
and  human  are  concrete  ;  humanity  is  an  abstract  notion.  The  concrete 
notions  are  applied  directly  to  an  actually  existing  being,  for  purposes  of 
classification  and  language,  which  need  not  here  be  explained.  The  ab- 
stract humanity  is  applied  to  designate  a  being  that  is  purely  fictitious, 
so  far  as  actual  existence  is  concerned,  but  which,  in  language  and  ID 
thought,  is  treated  as  though  it  were  a  real  being. 


§  390.  THE   FORMATION    OF   THE   CONCEPT    OK   NOTION. 

It  is  conceived  as  a  being,  by  having  attributes  affirmed  of  it ;  as  when  we  say, 
\sfrail  and  peccable.  It  has  adjectives  prefixed  to  it,  as  in  the  phrase,  our  original  humanity. 
It  is  divided  into  classes :  humanity  is  either  instructed  or  neglected,  etc.  In  short,  it  ia 
capable  of  being  treated  hi  every  way,  as  though  there  were  living  beings  called  humanities 
But  when  we  analyze  the  real  meaning  of  language,  and  the  thoughts  of  those  who  use  it> 
we  find  that  the  only  beings  distinguished  by  the  mind  are  the  living  men  who  are  endowed 
with  human  attributes.  Every  one  of  the  phrases  or  sentences  in  which  we  use  humanity  as 
a  being,  could  be  exchanged  for  others  in  which  men  only  should  be  spoken  of.  These 
sentences  might  be  long  and  complicated  and  awkward,  but  they  would  serve  to  show  that 
abstractat  or  abstract  nouns,  have  no  actual  existence  themselves,  but  in  every  case  carry  us 
back  to  some  real  beings  in  the  world  of  matter  or  spirit. 

There  is  still  another  sense  of  the  words  concrete  and  abstract,  which  is  purely  logical,  excluding  aL 
reference  to  existing  things,  and  concerned  only  with  notions  as  compared  with  one  another.  According 
to  this  use,  the  concrete  notion  is  the  notion  with  a  comparatively  full  significance,  consisting  of  many, 
packed  full  of,  attributes,  while  the  abstract  is  one  with  few. 

N  .  .        §  390.    Notions,  again,    are    still    further    distinguished   as 

$  and  com-  simple  and  complex.  This  concerns  their  import,  and  not 
their  application.  Those  notions  which  are  made  from  a 
single  attribute,  are  simple.  Those  which  are  made  of  more  than ,  one, 
are  complex.  Simple  notions  are  called,  by  Locke,  simple  ideas.  They 
cannot  be  analyzed  or  decomposed  into  any  constituent  elements.  The 
mind  directly  discerns  them  by  its  various  powers  of  knowledge.  Such 
words  as  white,  whiteness,  green,  greenness,  etc.,  etc.,  are  usually  given  as 
the  names  of  simple  notions.  It  would  be  more  exact  to  say  that  we  treat 
these  notions  as  simple,  because  we  do  not  ordinarily  distinguish  in  thought, 
or  by  language,  the  discernible  shades  of  white  or  green.  Those  which 
are  properly  simple,  would  be  such  shades  of  color  as  can  be  distin- 
guished from  every  other.  On  the  other  hand,  chalk,  chalky,  are  complex 
notions,  because  they  signify  more  than  one  attribute.  So,  man  and 
human  are  complex  spiritual  notions,  for  they  contain  many  attributes. 

No  thing  or  being  actually  existing  is  represented  by  a  simple  notion.     A 

No  simple  ideas     grain  of  sand  or  mote  in  the  sunbeam,  is  complex,  for  it  has  form,  dimen- 

or  beings  in  na- 

fcure.  sions,  color,  weight,  etc.,  etc.     Nature  gives  us  no  simple  ideas.     She  touches 

us  through  too  many  avenues  of  knowledge.  She  leads  us  to  observe  varied 
attributes  in  every  existing  thing.  We,  in  our  thinking,  analyze  and  separate  her  complex 
objects,  and  reconstruct  and  recombine  the  elements  which,  at  her  prompting,  we  have 
abstracted  and  generalized.  In  this  way  we  separate  and  reconstruct  the  elements  or  attri 
butes  of  material  objects  as  nature  exhibits  them  to  us,  as  of  plants,  and  animals.  Thus,  all 
the  concepts  which  are  expressed  by  the  general  terms  that  form  the  staple  of  every  language, 
are  constructed  by  the  mind.  They  are  passed  from  one  mind  to  another.  They  are  fixed  in 
irords  and  recorded  in  books  and  literature.  The  names  of  the  objects  that  human  art  and 
skill  has  constructed  for  use  or  beauty,  likewise  stand  for  the  complex  of  simple  notions  which 
we  observe  in  these  objects.  The  artificial  creations,  such  as  are  conceived  by  human  in- 
vention and  spring  from  human  society,  the  crimes  which  are  defined  by  human  law,  the 
offices  and  relations  of  government,  the  signs  and  proofs  of  property,  the  rights  and  duties 
of  men,  all  these  are  complex  notions,  which  are  made  and  sustained  by  civilized  man,  and 
interest  most  profoundly  his  hopes  and  fears.  These  are  still  further  removed  from  the  notions 
and  terms  mo'e  usually  conceived  as  abstracta,  but,  like  these,  are  susceptible  of  being  sc 


396  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §391 

analyzed  as  to  be  carried  back  to  living  beings.  But  these  all  are  complex  nations,  and  some 
of  them  exceedingly  complex  in  their  constituent  elements.  If  we  consult  a  dicticnary,  and 
run  the  eye  down  its  lists  of  words,  we  shall  be  surprised  to  find  how  large  a  portion  of  them 
stand  for  these  artificial  creations,  these  complexes  of  abstracted  properties. 

§  391.    Notions    are   technically  distinguished   by  their  re- 
Content  and  ex-     •.    , .  /»  -, 
tent  of  notions,     lations  or  content  and  extent,  or,  as  they  are  often  termed* 

their  comprehension  and  extension,  their  depth  and  breadth. 
These  relations  grow  out  of  the  very  nature  of  the  notion,  as  will  be 
seen  by  our  definitions.  A  notion  cannot  be  a  notion,  unless  having 
these  two  relations.  It  can  neither  be  formed  nor  used  unless  both 
these  relations  are  considered.  Indeed,  we  have  already  considered  both 
in  the  analysis  previously  given.  But  it  is  none  the  less  important  that 
they  should  be  clearly  explained  and  precisely  defined. 

The  content  of  the  notion  is  the  attribute,  or  attributes,  of 
Content  defined,  which  it  consists.  It  is  its  contained  attributes  considered 

as  a  unit  or  whole.  Those  notions,  whose  content  we  have 
the  most  frequent  occasion  to  consider,  are  complex  notions.  Still  a  sim- 
ple notion  has  a  proper  content  in  the  single  attribute  which,  when  con- 
ceived as  common,  is  made  a  concept.  Such  complex  notions  as  chalk, 
snow,  milk,  felony,  burglary,  theft ;  man,  spirit,  body,  soul,  legislation, 
monarchy,  republic,  a  state,  etc.,  have  so  manifestly  a  sum  of  contained 
attributes,  that  it  is  with  especial  propriety  that  we  speak  of  their  content. 

These  constitute  their  meaning  or  import.  When  these  are  fully  stated,  the  notion  is 
defined.  They  are  also  called  the  essence,  or  essential  constituents,  of  the  notion,  because 
they  make ,  up  or  form  its  being  as  a  thought-product  or  tli ought-creation.  The  failure  to 
distinguish  this  special  use  of  the  word  essence,  and  the  readiness  with  which  it  has  been 
confounded  with  real  existence,  has  been  a  fruitful  source  of  confusion  and  controversy  among 
metaphysicians. 

The  extent  of  a  notion  originally  and  properly  signifies  the 
Extent  defined,  number  of  individuals  to  which  it  is  applicable.  If  we 

could  know,  by  actual  census,  how  many  horses  or  men 
there  are  at  any  time  existing,  their  sum  would  be  the  extent  of  the 
notion  horse.  We  rarely,  however,  have  occasion  to  go  to  individuals ; 
for  these  are  divided  again  and  again  into  larger  and  smaller  groups,  to 
each  of  which  there  is  a  fixed  notion  and  name.  These  divisions  are 
effected  by  adding  to  the  content  of  the  notion,  which  includes  a  greater 
number  of  individuals,  an  additional  attribute — in  the  case  of  the  horse, 
an  attribute  of  color,  perhaps ;  and  we  have  a  new  content,  white  horse, 
black  horse,  etc.,  giving  an  extent  of  fewer  individuals.  In  many  cases, 
we  designate  the  concept  thus  newly-formed  by  a  separate  name,  as 
pony,  for  a  small  horse,  charger,  hunter,  roadster,  etc.  So  trees  are 
divided  by  means  of  notions,  whose  content  is  given  as  deciduous  and 
non-deciduous,  i.e.  whose  content  is  expressed  by  a  single  word,  as  firs, 
which  again  are  divided  into  pines,  hemlocks,  spruces,  each  having  some 


$392.  TEE   FORMATION    OF   THE   CONCEPT    OH   NOTION.  39  J 

attribute  not  belonging  to  the  content  indicated  by  the  word  fir,  or  fir- 
tree. 

In  consequence  of  these  divisions  or  groupings  of  individuals  by 
broader  and  narrower  divisions,  the  extent  of  the  notion  in  actual  use 
always  stops  short  with  subordinate  groups,  and  does  not  carry  us  down 
or  back  to  the  included  individuals.  These  individuals  are  always  in- 
tended, however,  and  the  subordinate  classes  are  said  to  constitute  the 
extent,  because  they,  in  their  turn,  are  applicable  to  and  comprehend  indi- 
viduals. 

Inasmuch,  however,  as,  for  purposes  of  thought-knowledge,  it  is  of  little 
c01186^1161106  how  many  individual  men  are  living,  questions  of  the  actual 
spc-cies.  extent  of  a  notion  rarely  concern  any  thing  beside  the  subordinate  classes 

which  make  up  the  greater  whole.  We  do  not  count  up  the  men  who  are 
alive — we  do  not  ask  whether  those  who  are  dead  or  those  not  yet  born,  ought  to  be  added 
to  the  extent  of  the  notion  man.  We  simply  propose  to  know  what  are  the  subordinate 
classes,  as  far  as  they  have  been  divided  and  subdivided ;  and  having  answered  these  questions 
flre  rest  content  till  new  discoveries  or  more  careful  attention  require  or  warrant  a  still  lower 
subdivision 

As  the  content  of  a  notion  is  exhibited  by  definition,  so  the 

Definition     and  .        .  ,         ,.    .    .  „,,  .       ,.    .   .          .        ^,          .,  , 

division.  extent  is  given  by  division.     Ihis  division  is  effected  as  the 

indirect  consequence  of  adding  to  the  content  of  the  notion 
a  new  attribute,  which  immediately  narrows  its  extent.  The  adding  a 
new  attribute,  or  new  attributes,  for  this  end,  is  called  determination,  or 
the  act  of  bounding  off,  or  limiting. 

It  follows  that,  as  the  content  of  a  notion  is  increased,  its 
i^asTxtlnt?186"    extent  is   diminished.      Hence   the  maxim :   the  content  is 
inversely  as  the  extent;   and  conversely.     In  other  words, 
the  greater  the  extent,  the  smaller  is  the  content ;  the  greater  the  con- 
tent, the  smaller  is  the  extent. 

These  distinctions  and  maxims  obviously  apply  to  the  concepts  of  dbstracta  and  other 
fictitious  entities  created  by  the  human  mind.  Inasmuch  as  all  these  are  treated  as  though 
they  were  real  beings,  these  concepts  admit  both  of  the  relations  of  content  and  extent. 
Thus,  gratitude  and  republic  are  both  capable  of  definition  and  division.  The  content  of 
each  can  be  given  by  defining  the  attributes  which  make  up  its  essence,  and  their  extent  by 
enumerating  the  several  species  or  sorts  into  which  each  can  be  divided.  Yet  neither  are  real 


All  the  properties  of  the  notion  which  we  have  thus  far  considered,  seemed  to  be  involved 
m  the  very  nature  of  the  product,  and  in  its  application  to  its  appropriate  objects.  They  are 
none  the  less  important  or  true  for  that  reason. 

On  reflection,  it  will  also  be  found  that  these  properties  and  relations  hare  already  antici- 
pated and  provided  for  the  whole  theory  of  classification. 

§  392.  In  forming  the  notion  from,  and  applying  the  notion 
howldoesnit  to,  individual  objects,  the  intellect  classifies  these  objects; 

that  is,  it  groups  them  into  divisions  which  are  broader  and 
narrower  in  their  extent ;  and  of  course  higher  and  lower  when  ranked 
according  to  their  place  in  a  system.  This  consequence  follows  both  froir 


398  THE  HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §393. 

the  fact  that  nature  has  so  constructed  individual  beings  that  they  are 
capable  of  being  grouped  into  larger  and  smaller  divisions,  by  means  of 
their  resembling  attributes ;  and  from  the  tendency  in  the  human  soul  tc 
meet  this  fact  of  nature  by  the  desire  to  view  objects  in  a  corresponding 
orderly  arrangement.  It  follows  as  a  necessary  consequence  that  the 
mind  when  it  thinks  the  individual  objects  of  its  knowledge  by  means  ol 
concepts  or  notions  must  of  necessity  classify  them. 

The  first  efforts  at  classification  are  necessarily  rude  and  im- 
Gkfldren  classify  perfect<  Children  when  left  to  themselves  group  together 

objects  in  very  strange  connections  and  discern  resemblances 
between  things  which  older  people  never  would  think  of  connecting.  The 
number  or  range  of  objects  to  which  they  have  access  is  very  scanty — their 
power  of  attentive  analysis  has  been  little  exercised,  and  their  movements 
of  perception  and  comparison  are  unconstrained  by  the  classifications  of 
others.  In  the  poverty  of  their  language  they  apply  the  words  which  they 
have,  to  the  strangest  uses,  on  the  very  slightest  and  the  most  whimsical 
analogies. 

They  soon  learn  better,  as  we  say.  That  is,  they  take  from  older  persons  the  concep- 
tions and  classifications  which  have  been  made  before  them.  In  other  words,  they  think  over 
again  the  concepts  that  are  made  ready  and  presented  for  their  use,  in  the  words  of  which 
they  learn  both  the  import  and  the  application.  They  do  not  learn  these  words  from  memory 
alone,  but  the  words  guide  them  in  the  direction  in  which  they  are  to  attend  and  indicate 
what  they  will  find.  Thus  in  learning  to  talk  they  are  constrained  to  fall  in  with  those  classi- 
fications which  previous  generations  have  made  before  them,  and  have  recorded  in  the  language 
which  they  have  left  behind. 

Savages  do  not  classify  under  the  same  restraints.  Now  and 
daslifyfvagei'  then  an  opportunity  occurs  in  which  we  can  observe  the 
movements  of  their  minds.  When  novel  objects  are  presented 
to  them,  they  usually  seek  out  some  concept  or  word  already  known  and 
familiar,  and  extend  it  to  the  novel  object  by  some  resemblance,  however 
forced  or  violent  it  may  be.  The  goats  which  Captain  Cook  carried  to  the 
Pacific  Islands  were  called  by  the  natives  horned  hogs  :  the  horse  on  a 
like  occasion  was  called  a  large  dog.  The  dog  and  the  hog  being  the  only 
quadrupeds  with  which  these  savages  were  familiar,  these  novel  animals 
were  taken  into  the  only  concepts  and  names  that  were  ready  for  their  re- 
ception. When  the  Romans  first  saw  elephants,  they  called  the  animal 
bos  lucas  or  lucanus,  a  lucanian  ox,  from  the  province  in  Italy  where  they 
were  first  seen.  It  was  only  after  countless  observations  and  myriads  of 
comparisons  repeated  for  generations  by  multitudes  of  individual  men,  that 
the  classifications  employed  in  common  life  and  the  concepts  designated 
by  the  words  in  hourly  use  have  been  reached  and  fixed. 

§  393.  The  classifications  of  science  differ  from  those  of  com 
mon  ^e  ™  tnat  tnev  are  founded  on  a  far  closer  observation, 
and  are  directed  by  the  special  rules  which  are  furnished  by 


§394.  THE   FORMATION   OF  THE   CONCEPT   OR  NOTION.  89$ 

scientific  principles.  These  may  be  certain  assumed  ends,  or  knowi: 
powers  or  laws  of  nature,  which  were  discovered  long  after  those  classifi 
cations  were  perfected  which  are  recorded  in  the  words  of  common  life. 

The  classification  of  animals  into  Vertebrates,  Articulates,  Mollusks,  Radiates  and  Protozoans, 
and  the  subdivision  of  the  Vertebrates  into  Mammals,  Birds,  Reptiles,  and  Fishes,  is  very 
different  from  that  represented  in  the  words  horse,  ox,  whale,  snake,  hawk,  quail,  robin. 
Neither  the  so-called  natural  nor  artificial  systems  of  Botany  give  us  what  we  know  under  the 
household  names  of  the  lily,  the  rose,  the  pink,  and  violet.  And  yet  these  common  names  do 
as  really  classify  their  objects  as  do  scientific  names.  The  concepts  for  which  they  stand  are 
formed  by  the  same  processes  and  applied  for  the  same  purposes  as  those  which  science  forma 
with  greater  exactness,  and  uses  with  greater  rigor.  As  soon  as  concepts  begin  to  b^  formed, 
however  crude  are  the  first  products  and  grotesque  the  classifications,  the  mind  has  set  off 
upon  a  path  which  needs  only  to  be  faithfully  followed  to  conduct  to  the  definitions  of  Newton, 
and  the  classifications  of  Cuvier. 

To  classify  is  no  secret  of  science,  no  process  reserved  for  the 

Classification  J 

not  peculiar  ^  select  lew  who  are  initiated  into  a  magic  art,  but  it  is  as 
universal  and  necessary  as  the  act  of  thinking.  The  classifi- 
cations of  common  life  may  be  as  rational  and  as  useful  for  the  ends  of 
common  life  as  are  those  of  science  for  its  special  objects.  They  are 
founded  on  the  obvious  appearances  of  objects  to  the  senses  and  the 
mind.  They  are  adapted  to  the  uses  of  men  of  ordinary  culture. 

What  wealth  of  thinking  does  every  cultivated  language  embody  and  represent !  Each  one 
of  its  words  has  gathered  into  its  subtle  essence  the  results  of  repeated  and  refined  observa- 
tions of  the  men  who  perhaps  by  successive  efforts  at  last  reached  the  concept  which  the  sin- 
gle term  enshrines.  Many  of  its  terms  designate  relations  and  similarities  which  are  by  no 
means  obvious  at  a  hasty  glance,  and  distinctions  that  would  not  at  once  be  detected.  Even 
f  hose  words  which  we  call  synonymous,  are  distinguished  by  nice  but  real  shades  of  differing  im- 
port. If  the  language  fs  copious  and  carefully  discriminated  like  the  Greek  and  the  German, 
it  is  at  once  a  representation  and  a  monument  of  the  thinking  of  the  race  who  used,  and  by  using 
developed  it  into  its  consummated  perfection. 

What  the  no-  In  like  manner  the  technical  nomenclature  of  a  single  science 
a^tieno^TCpre-  when  finished  and  arranged,  is  a  transcript  of  all  the  discrim- 
inating thoughts,  the  careful  observations,  and  the  manifold 
experiments  by  which  the  science  has  been  formed.  It  represents  in  brief, 
all  the  most  careful  definitions  and  the  most  complete  and  best  classified 
divisions  which  the  devotees  to  its  special  objects  have  perfected  by 
their  labors. 

The  chief  point  which  these  observations  confirm,  is  that  the  concept 
is  of  necessity  a  classifying  agent.  We  cannot  form  the  concept  by  com- 
bining individual  objects  through  common  attributes,  without  thereby 
separating  them  from  other  objects  not  thus  distinguished. 

8  394.    Classification  is  nearly  allied  to  systemization.     Thts 

Classification      "      .   .  />,.  .  ,  ,  .    ,  ,  •*  -, 

tnd   systemiza-    division  ot  objects  into  classes  which  are    broader  and  nar- 
rower, has  a  close  affinity  with  their  orderly  arrangement  in 
classes  which  are  higher  and  lower,  through  a  succession  of  divisions  and 


400  THE    HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §395 

subdivisions.  Both  result  from  the  application  of  notions  in  their  extern 
to  existing  objects,  or  to  objects  which  are  conceived  to  exist.  In  the 
one  case  we  take  a  single  concept  perhaps,  and  by  the  determination  of  its 
content,  we  divide  its  extent  into  several  that  are  subordinate.  But  when 
we  arrange  objects  by  a  system,  we  pursue  the  same  method  by  a  succes- 
sion of  subdivisions  downward  and  generalizations  upward  till  we  obtain 
a  symmetrical  arrangement  of  the  whole.  To  reduce  our  knowledge  of 
any  number  of  individual  objects  to  such  a  system,  we  must  use  efforts 
similar  to  those  which  result  in  the  division  of  a  sinle  class. 


provides  for  the  realization  of  such  an  aim  by  the  constitution  of  things  ;  by  the 
distribution  of  attributes  with  which  existing  objects  are  invested  ;  and  the  ordering  of  the 
powers  and  laws  under  which  phenomena  occur.  She  inspires  to  the  effort  to  reduce  our 
knowledge  to  this  form,  by  giving  us  the  anticipation  and  belief  that  we  shall  find  objects  so 
constructed,  and  by  rewarding  every  confirmation  of  this  expectation  with  special  satisfaction. 

„    Classification  and  systemization,  are  the  characteristics  and 

The  relation   of  J 

both  to  knowi-  consequences  of  all  thought-knowledge  and  preeminently  of 
scientific  knowledge.  They  are  indispensable  to  enable  us  to 
grasp  individual  facts  and  to  retain  our  observations.  They  are  an  intellec- 
tual convenience  and  an  intellectual  necessity.  But  they  do  not  con- 
stitute the  whole  of  thought  or  the  whole  of  science.  Though  scientific 
knowledge  is  of  necessity  classified  and  arranged  knowledge,  yet  mucl 
more  than  this  is  true  of  it.  The  order,  beauty  and  symmetry  of  syste 
matic  arrangement  is  but  the  external  indication  and  accompaniment  of 
profounder  relations  than  those  of  the  similarity  of  attributes,  making 
possible  notions  of  fuller  and  scantier  content,  and  of  wider  and  narrower 
extent. 

We  have  entered  within  the  threshold  of  our  analysis  and  comprehension  of  thought-knowl 
edge,  and  yet  the  light  which  shines  from  the  inner  sanctuary  casts  its  radiance  upon  the  objects 
which  are  the  nearest  to  our  view.  Other  acts  remain  for  us  to  consider,  involving  profounder 
relations  in  the  constitution  of  the  universe,  in  the  methods  and  forms  of  our  thinking,  and 
in  the  products  which  this  thinking  evolves. 

§  395.    It  will  not  be  amiss,  however,  to  ask  at  this  stage  of 

How  much  do  we  .          ..  ..  -IT-          T  i  ±1-1  -it 

gain  by  knowing  our  inquiries,  what  addition  do  we  make  to  tne  knowledge 
which  we  gain  by  perception  and  consciousness  by  superin- 
ducing upon  it  the  acts  or  processes  of  thought  which  we  have  thus  far 
considered  ?  What  do  we  know  more  about  an  object  seen  or  experienced, 
by  generalizing  its  attributes,  determining  its  class,  or  assigning  to  it  a 
name  ?  We  may  answer  this  question  by  asking  two  or  three  others. 
What  more  does  a  man  know  about  a  single  apple  by  calling  it  an  apple, 
a  fruit)  a  plant-product,  an  organized  being,  than  he  does  by  looking, 
feeling,  tasting,  and  smelling  it  ?  Or  one  might  as  properly  ask,  what 
more  does  a  mechanic  know  of  the  parts  or  the  whole  of  a  machine,  as  of 
a  turning-lathe  or  steam  engine,  than  does  a  savage  ?  The  eye  of  the 


§396,  THE   FOEMAT10N    OF   THE   CONCEPT  GE  MOTION.  403 

latter  may  be  far  more  keen,  and  his  power  of  observation  as  sense-por^er 
may  be  more  analytic  and  discriminating,  and  yet  the  mechanic,  by  the 
aid  of  concepts  and  names,  sees  far  more  than  does  the  savage  without 
them.  What  more  is  known  in  both  these  cases  by  the  acts  of  thought  ? 
We  answer,  their  common  relations,  i.  e.  properties,  attributes,  and  uses. 

When  we  think  or  intelligently  say  of  a  sense-object  it  is  an  apple,  we  both  think,  and  im- 
pliedly  say  of  it,  it  is  like  a  multitude  of  other  sense-objects,  in  many  most  important  respects, 
as  of  color,  taste,  size,  etc.  When  we  think  or  know  it  to  be  a  fruit,  we  enlarge  still  mot*; 
widely  the  sphere  or  extent  of  the  objects  to  which  it  holds  relations.  So  when  we  think  it  to 
be  a  plant-product.  The  same  is  true  of  the  greater  knowledge  which  the  mechanic  possesses 
cf  the  parts  or  the  whole  of  a  turning-lathe,  or  a  steam-engine.  He  knows  the  objects  to 
which  these  are  related,  or  as  we  usually  say,  the  relations  of  these  objects,  and  the  more 
numerous  are  the  concepts  under  or  by  which  they  are  known,  the  wider  is  the  sphere  of  thifi 
knowledge. 

§  396.  The  circumstance  that  classification  results  from  the 
S^iMsfition6  thought-process,  has  a  greater  importance  than  would  seem 

at  first  to  be  indicated.  As  we  class  the  objects,  as  a  pippin* 
an  apple,  a  iruit,  a  plant-product,  an  organized  being,  we  do  more  than 
discern  at  each  step  new  and  more  widely-reaching  relations, — we  seem 
to  gain  a  deeper  insight  into  the  nature  of  the  perceived  object.  This  is 
owing  to  the  circumstance,  that  the  properties  and  relations  which  extend 
the  most  widely  either  are  or  indicate  powers  and  laws  which  it  is  the 
problem  of  man  to  discover  and  apply  as  the  elements  and  objects  of 
scientific  knowledge. 

That  was  no  inconsiderable  act  which  was  signified  by  the 

The  significance  .  .  .        , 

of  naming  ob-  record  which  describes  the  various  living  animals  as  brought 
to  Adam  that  he  might  name  them.  The  capacity  to  name 
.iiipned  an  insight  into  their  nature.  For  this  reason  it  must  of  necessity 
be  true,  if  we  suppose  the  original  man  to  have  been  endowed  with  the 
requisite  discernment,  that  "  whatsoever  Adam  called  every  living  creature 
that  was  the  name  thereof."  It  seems  to  be  a  trifling  thing  for  the  child  to  be 
able  to  affix  suitable  names  to  the  objects  and  beings  which  first  attract 
its  attention.  At  first  thought  the  act  is  trivial,  mechanical,  parrot-like, 
as  it  were,  to  attach  an  articulate  sound  to  one  or  more  similar  objects  ;  but 
when  we  reflect  upon  it  as  implying  the  power,  as  already  in  being  or  as 
being  stimulated  to  efficient  activity,  of  intelligently  applying  this  name  to 
a  large  number  of  objects  which  are  in  many  respects  unlike  and  yet  alike, 
it  becomes  an  act  of  the  gravest  import.  It  indicates  a  most  important 
development  of  the  soul's  action,  an  awakening  of  it  in  a  new  direction, 
and  the  evolution  of  a  new  product. 

When  the  child  asks  What  is  it  ?  meaning  thereby,  What  is  it  called  ?  it  really  asks,  What 

is  the  nature,  or  what  the  relations  of  the  object?    When  the  name  is  given  in  reply,  and  the 

child  is  satisfied,  it  has  a  better  reason  to  be  content  than  it  seems  to  have,  or  than  it  itself 

knows  of,  for  in  the  name  it  has  the  means  of  enlarging  its  knowledge  of  the  objects  to  which 

26 


402  THE   HUMAN   INTELJ/KCT.  §  3J?7 

the  name  belongs,  as  it  learns  one  by  one  what  they  are,  and  notices  in  what  they  are  alike, 
and  in  what  they  are  unlike. 

That  the  name  does,  as  it  were,  take  up  into  itself  and  is  ready  to  give  up  ana 
rhe  varying  im-  reproduce  the  knowledge  of  relations  indicated  by  the  concept  can  be  easily 
cept  Salt.  illustrated  by  the  import  of  any  common  term*,  as  for  example,  Salt.  The 

child  first  learns  to  apply  this  word  to  a  certain  well-known  substance,  the 
common  table  salt,  and  to  recognise  in  this  article,  however  different  it  maybe  in  solidity,  color, 
taste,  certain  common  characteristics  which  entitle  it  to  this  appellation.  It  afterwards  learns 
to  apply  it  to  other  substances,  which  on  account  of  their  pungent  taste  and  other  properties, 
as  crystalline  character,  the  processes  by  which  they  are  formed,  etc.,  have  been  vulgarly 
called  salts.  This  involves,  of  course,  an  enlargement  of  its  extent. 

When,  with  the  progress  of  chemical  science,  more  is  known  about  table-salt,  e.  #.,  that  it 
is  the  chloride  of  sodium,  the  import  of  the  concept  is  changed  and  enlarged  in  accordance 
with  this  new  and  more  accurate  knowledge.  Or  it  may  be  stated  more  exactly,  we  have 
another  concept  with  the  same  extent  and  name. 

It  might  b2  added  that  if  the  term  takes  into  its  import  a  metaphorical  signification,  as  of 
spri&'htliness  or  wit,  then  this  is  also  indicated  by  the  word.  By  such  an  example  we  see  and 
show  how  great  an  amount  of  relative  knowledge  is  represented  in  a  single  concept,  and  how 
the  uarne  concept  and  word  enlarge  themselves  to  receive  and  represent  the  added  import 
which  progressive  knowledge  discerns  and  acquires :  both  expanding  thoir  capacity  to  store 
away  and  retain  ;tll  that  the  mind  appropriates. 

That  was  no  slight  achievement  of  Aristotle,  to  seize  upon,  bring  out  and  establish  the 
truth  that  the  concept  of  an  object  either  declares  what  it  is  or  at  least  indicates  the  direction 
which  must  be  taken  in  order  to  find  this.  The  concept  is  the  permanent  what-ness  or  what-aori- 
of-ness,  which  may  be  thought  of  the  things  to  which  it  is  applied.  It  is  the  rb  ri  %v  elj/ot,  i.  e. 
its  real  and  permanent  nature.  To  ask  what  a  thing  is,  according  to  Aristotle,  is  to  take  tht 
first  step  and  perform  the  first  of  the  processes  which  are  essential  to  its  complete  mastery. 
It  is  to  propose  the  first  of  those  questions,  the  answers  to  all  of  which  carry  the  mind  through 
the  entire  circle  of  scientific  knowledge. 

The  other  two  are  Sia  rl  and  ou  eveica,  viz. ;  whence,  or  by  what  causes  or  means,  and  what  for,  or  to 
what  end  or  design, — the  first  giving  the  relation  of  efficient,  and  the  second  that  of  final  cause. 

Aristotle  also  recognises  the  intimate  connection  of  the  concept  with  the  word,  calling  the  two  by 
the  same  term,  6  Aoyo?. 

For  an  explanation  of  the  phrase  TO  ri  T/v  elvai  and  of  the  one  nearly  allied,  rb  ri  itrn  see  Trendelenburg 
De  an.  p.  192  sqq.,  also  Rhein.  Mus.  1828.  Heft  4,  p.  457  sqq.,  also  Gtschichte  der  Kat.  p.  34  sqq. 

Relation  of  § 39^'  Thought-knowledge  is  sometimes  contrasted  with 
knowledge  to  preservative  or  intuitive  knowledge  to  its  disadvantage,  by 
intuitions.  such  representations  as  these :  No  definition  can  give  any 

adequate  impression  of  the  objects  which  we  discern  by  perception  or  experi- 
ence in  consciousness  :  A  moment's  inspection  of  an  object,  as  of  a  turning- 
lathe,  a  steam-engine,  or  any  implement  of  labor  or  art,  is  worth  more  than 
the  most  elaborate  description  by  words,  or  the  most  precise  and  full 
enumeration  of  its  constituents.  So  it  is  often  said,  an  hour's  experience 
of  mental  or  moral  activity,  and  the  actual  exercise  of  the  love  of  the 
right  or  of  God,  is  worth  more  than  a  whole  system  of  ethical  or 
religious  philosophy. 

This  in  one  sense  is  true,  in  another  it  is  false  and  misleading.  Simple 
inspection  by  perception  can  give  very  little  knowledge  of  the  objects 


§  398.     THE  NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. SKETCH  OF  THEORIES.       403 

named.  It  is  inspection  or  experience  attended  and  enlightened  by 
thought,  which  instructs  the  mind.  It  is  perception,  with  comparison  of 
like  or  unlike  properties,  powers  and  adaptations,  which  is  unfairly  con- 
trasted with  definition  and  description. 

It  is  true,  that  thought  with  intuition  is  greatly  to  be  preferred  to  thought  without  intuition 
but  in  cases  where  intuition  cannot  be  had,  the  definition  or  description  by  concepts  and  terms 
are  no  mean  substitute.  Often  they  accomplish  that  which  is  of  most  importance ;  the  con 
veyance  to  the  mind  of  a  knowledge  of  those  relations  which  are  of  the  greatest  significance,  aa 
of  common  properties,  common  causes,  common  laws,  and  common  uses  ;  all  of  which  are,  for 
the  purposes  of  science  and  of  practice,  not  only  the  most  important  relations  but  those  only 
which  are  of  any  considerable  use.  Intuition  gratifies  other  capacities,  as  those  of  sensuous  or 
emotional  pleasure.  It  both  satisfies  and  stimulates  the  curiosity.  It  enables  the  inquiring 
or  sceptical  mind  to  verify  the  asseitions  of  others  by  personal  observation.  It  brings  tha 
opportunity  to  make  fresh  and  independent  judgments  and  inductions  of  our  own.  But  the  end 
of  intuition  is  not  found  in  itself,  but  in  the  thought-knowledge  to  which  it  excites  and 
directs. 

The  what  which  the  concept  and  the  word  both  propose  to  communicate,  is  not  the  direct 
observation  which  presentation  gives,  but,  the  higher  and  more  comprehensive  knowledge  which 
thought  aims  to  achieve.  It  is  not  the  knowledge  ttiat  a  being  is,  but  the  analytic  and  compara- 
tive knowledge  of  its  relations. 


CHAPTER   HI. 

THE  NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. — SKETCH  OF  THEORIES. 

IN  the  preceding  chapter  we  have  considered  the  nature  of  the  concept  in  a  general  way,  so 
far  as  was  required  in  the  analysis  and  explanation  of  the  psychological  process  by  which 
it  is  formed.  As  a  metaphysical  and  logical  question  it  has  been  fruitful  of  discussion  in 
the  schools  of  ancient  and  modern  philosophy.  From  Plato  to  John  Stuart  Mill,  it  has 
been  the  perpetual  theme  for  discussion  and  controversy.  The  history  of  the  various  theo- 
ries which  have  been  held  is  not  merely  interesting  as  a  subject  of  curious  speculation, 
and  as  the  key  to  much  of  the  history  of  philosophy ;  but  it  is  most  instructive  as  enabling 
us  to  understand  the  nature  and  reach  of  language,  as  well  as  as  the  grounds  of  our  faith 
in  philosophy  itself,  and  in  the  special  sciences  of  which  philosophy  is  the  foundation. 
We  return  to  it  a  second  time  for  more  careful  consideration,  as  a  necessary  preliminary 
to  which  we  shall  give  a  brief  sketch  of  the  history  of  the  theories  which  have  been 
taught  in  the  ancient  and  modern  schools. 

§  398.    The  nature  of  the  concept  and  its  relation  to  real  or  existing  objects  has  been 
The  doctrines  of     *ne  occasi°n  °f  endless  speculation,  of  fantastic  theories,  and  of  sharp  and  persistent 
Socrates  an  dPla-     controversies  in  every  period  distinguished  by  philosophical  inquiry.     Socrates  was  the 
first  to  insist  upon  the  importance  of  forming  concepts  of  the  objects  of  our  knowledge 
in  order  that  the  permanent  and  essential  might  be  eliminated  from  that  which  is  acci- 
dental and  transitory  in  individual  objects.     But  he  taught  little  or  nothing  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  the 
concept,  or  of  that  in  the  object  to  which  the  concept  is  the  counterpart  or  correlate.    Plato  took  up  the 
inquiry  where  Socrates  left  it ;  insisting  more  abundantly  than  he  upon  the  necessity  of  this  higher  knowl- 
edge, and  shoeing  that  in  attaining  it  we  must  define  and  divide— must  go  from  the  individual  to  the 
general,  by  successive  inductions,  and  so  on  from  one  step  to  another,  till  we  reach  that  which  exists  of  and 


404  THE    HUMAN     INTELLECT.  §  399 

by  itself- -that  which  is  alone  the  permanent  object  of  [true]  knowledge.  This  is  the  ide*  if  i&£a  or  TO  ei&os. 
We  attain  to  this  by  forming  separate  concepts,  which  we  successively  test  and  reject,  till  at  last  the  y  reveal 
thf.  idea.  This  idea  is,  however,  not  itself  a  concept,  VOTJ/ACI,  though  concepts  enable  us  to  find  it.  It  ii 
rather  that  in  the  object  which  prompts  us  to  form  those  tentative  concepts  which  enable  us  to  discover  the 
idea  itself.  But  what  this  idea  is,  and  what  are  its  relations  to  the  concept,  he  does  not  accurately  teach ; 
where  it  exists  he  does  not  assert ;  whether  in  the  object  itself,  or  in  the  mind  of  the  Creator,  or  in  the 
mind  of  each  thinking  man,  he  does  not  define.  He  seems  to  teach  that  ideas,  or  the  idea,  have  an  exist- 
ence and  essence  separate  from  all  these,  that  they  are  eternal  and  incorruptible,  existing  before  all  tem- 
porary and  perishable  beings,  and  imparting  to  the  perishable  and  phenomenal  in  these  beings  all  their  dig- 
nity and  interest.  Ideas  are  realities,  things  and  events  are  their  shadows.  Ideas  have  a  sphere  and  place  oi 
their  own,  etc.,  etc.  But  whether  by  these  representations,  he  intends  only  personification  and  poetic  fiction, 
or  sober  scientific  definition,  is  not  always  easy  to  decide.  This  much  is  certain  ;  that  the  idea  with  Plato 
stands  for  the  objective  correlate  of  the  concept  so  far  as  the  idea  is  within  our  reach,  and  that  it  is  by  obtain- 
ing concepts  of  objects  as  we  may,  that  we  approximate  towards  the  knowledge  of  ideas.  To  the  nature  of  the 
concept  itself,  as  a  psychological  product,  and  its  relation  to  the  real  or  the  ideal,  he  gives  little  attention, 
and  of  it  furnishes  no  definition.  Aristotle,  following  Plato,  justly  charges  him  with  treating  his  ideas  as 
existences  or  substances  which  could  exist  separately  from  individual  objects  or  things,  and  compares  these 
nyposta-sizcd  entities  to  the  anthropomorphic  deities  of  the  Greek  mythology,  which  must  assume  the 
forms  of  men,  and  when  they  did  so  were  only  known  as  wearing  the  garb  and  as  performing  the  actions 
of  men,  and  yet,  separately  from  these  forms,  could  not  be  known  by  mortals. 

§  399.    As  against  Plato,  Aristotle  insists  that  the  only  real  beings  or  substances  are  ex- 
isting beings  or  things,  the  wpwrai  ovar'ai,  as  he  calls  them.    He  is  distinctly  aware  that 
Aristotelians  there  are  other  sorts  of  beings  besides  these.    The  Sevrepai  ov<ricu  are  distinctly  discrim- 

inated from  the  irpwrai  ovo-iai,  or  individual  beings.  He  aims  to  show  in  what  sense 
the  former  are  so  called,  and  how  they  are  related  to  real  beings,  or,  in  modern  phrase- 
ology, to  show  the  relation  of  concepts  to  real  existences.  His  aims  are,  however,  more  satisfactory  than 
his  achievements.  This  is  explained  by  the  fact,  that  his  treatment  of  the  concept  is  metaphysical  and 
objective  rather  than  psychological  and  subjective.  That  is,  he  treats  the  concept  as  an  object  of  the  mind'a 
analysis  and  contemplation,  rather  than  as  a  result  of  the  mind's  producing— as  a  product  alreadj^  created, 
rather  than  as  a  result  which  the  mind  must  evolve  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  its  activity  and  the  rela- 
tions of  the  objects  concerned.  Hence  he  left  the  problem  unadjusted,  as  a  legacy  to  his  disciples -a  meta- 
physical question  to  be  discussed  and  debated,  and  not  a  question  of  fact  and  psychology  to  be  inquired 
into  by  the  study  of  the  mental  operations  as  revealed  to  consciousness. 

Psychologically,  Aristotle  goes  so  far  as  to  discriminate  the  n-pwrai  ova-tat  from  the  fievrepai  ovon'at. 
Ovcrta  fie  eoriv  »j  Kvpua-ra.ro.  re  ica.1  Trpwros,  ical  /uaAiora  Ae70ju.e'v7j,  TJ  /JIIJTC  ica.0'  UTroKei/meVou  TIVOS  Ae'-yerai,  fj.rJTe 
fv  viroKfinevta  nvi  evnv,  olov  6  TIS  avOpwjro?,  KOI  6  TIS  iWo?.  Cat.,  ch.  iii.,  n.  1.  The  first  is  the  only  real 
being  or  substance.  The  second  is  not  properly  a  substance,  but  only  in  appearance,  it  really  in  the  last 
analysis  signifies  a  quality.  (Cat.,  chap.  iii.  n.  16.)  In  modern  phrase,  the  Sevrepai  ova-Lai  are  Universals, 
and  these  are  the  products  of  the  mind's  own  activity,  and  separately  from  this,  have  no  proper  existence 
of  their  own.  They  are  resolvable  into,  and  signify  some  quality.  All  the  being  which  they  have  cornea 
from  this,  that  the  mind  asserts  or  predicates  certain  qualities  of  real  beings,  or  irpStrai  ovo-uu.  Hence,  in  a 
derived,  secondary,  or  representative  sense,  they  themselves  are  called  beings ;  the  beings  of  the  mind,  or 
secondary  beings. 

But  Aristotle  does  not  always,  nor  usually  hold  to  this  distinction.  Whether  or  not  it  was  clearlj 
present  to  his  own  mind,  may  be  a  question  in  respect  to  which  some  difference  of  opinion  should  fairly 
exist.  It  is  certain  that  he  does  not  always  impress  it  forcibly  upon  the  minds  of  his  readers.  When  he 
discusses  the  form  and  matter  of  substances  or  beings,  i.  e.,  when  he  gives  a  metaphysical  analysis  of  the 
essential  elements  of  being,  it  is  not  certain  or  clear,  whether  he  has  in  mind  real  beings,  i.  e.,  individuals, 
or  secondary  beings,  i.  e.,  Universals.  The  distinction  between  the  eifios  and  vAij,  or  form  and  matter,  was 
thus  explained.  Matter  cannot  exist  without  form.  For  every  being  has  some  determinate  form.  There 
can  be  no  form  without  matter.  The  one  requires  the  other.  The  two  are  correlates,  seeking  each  other, 
afi  AristotU  figuratively  speaks,  by  a  natural  appetency.  The  form  only  is  conceived  by  the  mind.  What 
the  mind  conceives  of  a  being  is  its  essence,  TO  ri  %v  elvat.  In  modern  language  the  concept  is  made  up  ol 
the  essential  qualities  that  are  common  to  several  individuals,  omitting  those  which  are  undiscriminated. 
Thus  far  the  distinction  is  applied  to  individual  substances  or  beings. 

When  form  and  matter  are  affirmed  of  the  fievTepcu  ovcriai  as  especially  discriminated  from  the  irpSnan 
ownai,  the  distinction  is  illustrated  by  the  logical  definition  or  view  of  the  species.  Here  the  species  as  a 
determinate  form  of  the  genus,  is  itself  the  elfios— i.  e.,  the  differentia,  and  that  which  is  essential  and  defina. 
bin.  The  genus  is  the  matter  ;  it  is  supposed  but  not  defined,  as  when  we  speak  of  the  whale  or  the  shark 
as  a  species  of  animal,  animal  ia  the  indefinite  matter,  common  to  all  these  beings  indiscriminately — what 
is  thus  common  takes  form  in  the  whale,  the  shark,  etc.  The  species  as  conceived  by  Aristotle,  was,  how- 
ever, not  the  so-called  nominal  essence  such  as  can  be  constructed  by  the  mind  ad  libitum  by  the  addition 
of  any  differentia  to  any  combination  called  generic,  but  it  was  an  actually  existing  class— preeminently 
&uoh  as  exist  in  the  animal  creation.  The  permanent  characteristics  of  such,  i.  e.,  their  logical  properties 


§  401.     THE  NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT.  -  SKETCH  OF  THEORIES.       40? 

or  d-fferentiae,  i.  e.,  their  real  conditions,  were  taken  as  separate  forces  or  forms,  which,  acting  with  matter, 
produced  or  constituted  the  species.  Generally—  the  matter  is  the  form  «v  fiv^a/uei,  the  form  is  the  matter 
v  evepyeia—  the  one  is  possible  and  tending  toward  reality  ;  is  waiting  for  appropriate  conditions,  as  we 
should  say.  The  other  is  actual  :  that  is,  the  conditions  being  present,  the  result  consequently  follows 
in  a  realized  or  actualized  form.  The  completed  realization  ev  tvepyeia,  of  the  matter  &  Svvdnct.  is  the 


Aristotle  set  out  with  the  determination  to  avoid  those  personifications  which  so  abound  in  Plato. 
But  he  did  not  entirely  succeed.  Should  we  concede  that  he  was  not  betrayed  himself  into  hypostasizing 
these  metaphors,  he  did  not  secure  his  disciples  from  this  error.  So  it  happened  that  the  ideas  of  Plato 
and  the  forms  of  Aristotle  were  both  regarded  as  actual  realities,  and  as  such,  furnished  fruitful  material 
for  the  subtleties  and  controversies  of  their  earlier  disciples  and  commentators,  in  the  decadence  of  the 
Greek  philosophy. 

P      h  2n-     §  ^'    ^  was'  k°wever»  among  the  scholastics  of  the  middle  ages  that  such  discus- 

305?*   nfs*  ques-     sions  became  conspicuous,  in  the  schools  of  the  Nominalists,  the  Realists,  and  the  Con- 
tions.  ceptualists.      The  immediate  occasion  of  these   discussions  and   controversies  was 

R>ethius.  470  ?  furnished  by  a  passage  from  Porphyry,  in  the  preface  to  his  Introduction  to  the  Cate- 
gories of  Aristotle.  This  Introduction  was  translated  from  the  Greek  by  Boethius,  and 
this  passage  became  the  problem  for  the  different  sects  which  we  have  named  —  who  received  their  appella- 
tions from  the  different  solutions  which  they  gave  to  it.  "Mox  de  generibus  et  speciebus,  illud  quidem 
eivfr  subsistent,  sive  in  sol  is  nudis  intellectibus  posita  sint,  sive  subsistentia  corporalia  sint  an  incorpo- 
ralia,  et  utrum  separata  a  sensibilibus  poeita  circa  hsec  consistentia  dicere  recusabo.  Altissimum  enim 
negotium  est  hujus  modi  et  majoris  egens  inquisition!  s."  In  other  words,  the  questions  which  naturally 
suggest  themselves  concerning  Universals  are  the  following  : 

•  Have  Universals  a  separate  existence  or  do  they  exist  in  the  mind  only?  If  they  have  a  separate 
existence,  are  they  corporeal  or  incorporeal  ?  Are  they  separable  from  sensible  objects  or  do  they  subsist 
in  these  only  ?  ' 

The  extreme  Realists  answered  these    questions  in  the   spirit  of  Plato,  or  rather  of 

The  Conceptual-     *^e  doctrine  which  Aristotle  ascribed  to  Plato,  viz.  :  that  Universals  have  an  existence 

ists.    The  Nom-     that  is  separate  from  and  independent  of  individual  objects.    They  even  contended 

s*Sf     ^  n  e     that  they  exist  before  them,  in  rank  and  creative  power,  or  at  least  in  point  of  time. 

These  views  were  formulated  in  the  motto  Universalia  ante  rem. 

The  moderate  Realists  adopted  the  creed  of  Aristotle  that  Universals  have  a  real  existence,  but  only  in 
individuals.  Their  motto  consequently  became  Universalia  in  re. 

The  Conceptualists  and  Nominalists  agreed  in  this  that  individuals  alone  have  real  existence  ;  and 
that  Universals,  both  genera  and  species,  are  formed  by  the  mind,  by  bringing  together  many  similar 
objects,  and  designating  them  by  common  terms. 

They  differ  in  that  the  extreme  Nominalists  held  that  the  name  only  is  general  and  is  employed  to 
avoid  an  indefinite  number  of  proper  names  which  would  be  otherwise  required;  while  the  Conceplualistt 
interposed  a  concept  between  the  name  and  the  objects  collected  into  a  class.  The  motto  of  both  Concept- 
ualists and  Nominalists  was  Universalia  post  rem. 

§  401.    The  differences  of  opinion  that  ripened  into  these  separate  philosophical  sects  be- 

gan to  be  manifest  in  the  ninth  and  tenth.centuries.    It  was  not,  however,  till  the  secoi  i  d 

The  Scholastics,      half  of  the  eleventh  that  different  philosophers  and  theologians  were  known  by  these 

appellations;  and  that  the  doctrines  themselves  became  the  occasion  of  earnest  and 

bitter  strife.    These  reappeared  at  intervals  and  were  not  finally  terminated  before 

early  in  the  fourteenth. 

(Heiricus)  Eric  of  Auxerre,  in  the  early  part  of  the  ninth  century,  wrote  as  follows  : 

,  .  "  Sciendum  autem  quia  propria  nomina  pnmum  sunt  innumerabilia  ;  ad  qua3  cognoscenda 

Dth  Century  intellectus  nullus  seu  memoria  sufficit,  hajc  ergo  omnia  coartata  species  comprehendit 

et  facit  priinum  gradurn,  qui  latissimus  est,  etc.,  etc.,  etc.    Sed  quia  hsec  rursus  erant 

innumerabiliii  et  incomprehensibilia,  alter  factus  est  gradus  angustior,  ita  constat  in 

genere  quod  est  animal,  surculus  et  lapis  ;  iterum  haec  genera,  in  unum  coacta  nomen,  tertium  fecerunt 

gradum  arctissimum  et  angustissimum,  utpote  qui  uno  nomine  solum  modo  constet,  quod  est  usia." 

Again,  "  Si  quis  dixerit  album  et  nigrum  absolute  sine  propria  et  certa  substantia,  in  qua  con- 
tinetur,  per  hoc  non  poterit  certam  rem  ostendere,  nisidicat  albus  homo  vel  equus  aut  niger." 

Still  farther,  an  unknown  writer,  either  Ithabanus  Maurus  or  a  scholar  of  his  writes  -as  follows,  on 
Porphyry's  Introduction  :  "  Res  enim  non  praedicatur.  Quod  hoc  modo  probant  :  si  res  prsedicatur,  res 
iicitur,  si  res  dicitur,  res  enur.ciatur,  si  res  enunciatur,  res  profertur  ;  Bed  res  proferri  non  potest,  mhil 
>nim  profertur  nisi  vox,  neque  enim  aliud  est  prolatio,  quam  aerisplectro  lingua?  percussio." 

Roscellinus  or  Roscellin,  canon  at  Compiegne  In  the  second  half  of  the  eleventh  ceiitu- 
ry,  was  the  first  recognized  Nominalist.    His  teachings  chiefly  attracted  attention  in  con- 
f  U06  ?nU  sequence  of  the  application  which  he  made  of  them  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Trinity. 

His  views  of  this  doctrine  were  condemned  by  a  church  council  at  Soissons,  1092,  and 
he  retracted  the  doctrine  which  gave  offence  but  seems  afterwards  to  have  taught  hi« 


406  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  401 

Nominalistic  views  without  molestation.  But  he  founded  no  school  and  left  no  followers  among  the  teach- 
ers in  the  schools.  Roscellin  was  earnestly  opposed  by  his  contemporary,  Anselm  of  Canterbury.  "William 
of  Champeaux  represented  the  most  extreme  realism  in  France,  and  Abelard  also,  though  much  less 
extreme  as  a  Realist,  rejected  the  doctrines  of  hie  teacher  Roscellin. 

Roscellin  left  no  writings  and  only  a  letter  on  the  Trinity  to  Abelard.  We  are  forced  to  take  oui 
view  of  his  opinions  from  the  accounts  of  his  opponents.  Anselm  says  :  "  Illi  nostri  temporis  dialectici, 
immo  diaJectices  haeretici,  qui  non  nisi  flatum  vocis  putant  esse  universales  substantias ;  qui  colorenc 
nilul  aliud  queunt  intelligere  quam  corpus,  nee  sapientiam  hominis  aliud  quam  animam."  (De  fid 
trin.  c.  2.) 

William  of  Champeaux  studied  under  Roscellin,  but  adopted  extreme  Realism.  Abe- 
William  of  'ar<^  safs  °f  h™  :  "  Erat  autem  in  ea  sententia  de  communitate  universalium,  ut 
Champeaux.  eandem  essentialiter  rem  totam  simul  singulis  suis  inesse  adstrueret  individuis,  quorunj 

1070-1121.  nulla  esset  diversitas  sed  sola   multitudini   accidentium  varietas."      To  this  Abelard 

objects — the  same  substance  must  then  admit  various  accidents  which  are  incompatible 
with  one  anotner,  and  the  same  must  be  in  different  places.  William,  on  this,  modified  his  statement  by 
substituting  individualiler,  or  as  others  read,  indifferenter,  in  place  of  essenlialiter. 

Abelard,   1079-1143,   who  studied  under  both  Roscellin  and  William  of  Champeaux, 

avoided  the  extremes  of  either,  without  committing  himself  to  a  very  definite  and  con- 

1142  sistent  doctrine  upon  the  subject.     He  taught  that  the  universal  is  not  simply  vox  but 

sermo,  and  has  therefore  been  called  a  Conceptualist.     John  of  Salisbury,  his  pupil, 

says  of  him  :    "  Alius  sermones  intuetur  et  ad  illos  detorquet  quicquid  alicubi  de  uni- 

versalibus  meminit  script  um  ;  in  hac  autem  opinione  deprehensus  est  peripateticus  Palatinus  Abaelardua 

noster  ;  rem  de  re  praedicari  monstrum  dicunt."    He  says  himself:  "  Nee  rem  ullam  de  pluribus  dici  sed 

nomen  tantum  concedimus."    On  the  other  hand  he  says  :  "  Mhil  est  definition  nisi  declaratum  secundum 

significationem  vocabulum." 

What  this  signification  is  and  on  what  in  things  it  depends,  he  does  not  explain.  In  respect  to  the  pre- 
existence  of  TJniversals,  he  accepts  the  doctrine  of  Plato,  under  the  form  in  which  he  conceives  it,  by 
making  the  ideas  which  are  the  forms  of  things  to  exist  eternally  in  the  divine  mind.  "Ad  hunc  modum 
Plato  formas  exemplares  in  mente  divina  considerat  quas  ideas  appellat  et  ad  quas  postmodum  quasi  ad 
exemplar  quoddam  summi  artificis  providentia  opera' a  est."  (Introd.  ad  Theol.  I.,  p.  987.)  "  Sic  et  Ma- 
crobius.  Somn.  Scip.  I.,  2.  14.  Plato.iem  insecutus  mentem  Dei,  quam  Graeei  Noyn  appellant,  origi- 
nales  rerum  species  quse  idese  dictse  sunt,  continere  meminit  antequam  etiam,  inquit  Priscianus,  in  corpora 
prodirent,  h.  e.  in  effecla  operum  provenirent."  (Ib.  II.,  p.  1095.) 

Albertus  Magnus  reconciles  the  three  doctrines  in  respect  to  Universals,  by  saying  that 
they  were  ante  rem  in  the  divine  mind,  in  re  as  connected  with  individual  objects,  and 
Albertus     Mag-     ^^  rem  ag  separated  by  the  process  of  abstraction,  i.  e.,  as  concepts  in  the  mind  of 
man. 

"  Et  tune  resultant  tria  formarum  genera ;  unum  quidem  ante  rem  existens.  quod 

est  causa  formativa ;  aliud  autem  est  ipsum  genus  formarum  quod  abstrahente  intellectu  separatur  a 
rebus."  (De  nat.  et  orig.  an.  tr.  I.  2.)  "  Esse  universale  est  Ibrmae  et  non  materiae."  (De  int.  et  intell., 
I.  2,  3.) 

Thomas  Aquinas  made  similar  distinctions  and  taught  the  same  doctrine  :    "  Formae 
quse  sunt  in  materia,  venerunt  a  formis  quas  sunt  sine  materia  et,  quantum  ad  hoc, 
~      verin'catur  dictum  Platonis,  quod  formes  separatee  sunt  principia  formarum  quas  sunt 
in  materia,  licet  posuerit  eas  per  Be  subeistentes  et  cauaantes  immediate  formas  sensi- 
bilium ;  DOS  vero  ponimus  eas  in  intellectu  existentes  et  causantes  formas  inferiores  per 
motum  cceli."      (  Con.  Qen.,  III.  24.)      "  Credidit  Plato  quod  forma  cogniti  ex  necessitate  sit  in  cognoscente 
eo  modo  quo  est  in  cognito,  et  ideo  existimavit  quodoperteret  res  intellectas  hoc  modo  in  se  ipsis  subsistere, 
sc.  immaterialiter  et  immobiliter.    (Sum.  theol.,  I.  84.) 

u  Quia  licet  principia  specie!  vel  generis  nunquam  sint  nisi  in  individuis,  tamen  potest  apprehendi 
animal  sine  homine,  asino  at  aliis  spcciebus."  (Depot,  ««.,  c.  6.) 

"  Universalia  ex  hoc  quod  sunt  universalia  non  habent  esse  per  se  in  sensibilibus,  quia  universalitas 
ipsa  est  in  anima."  (De  Universaiibus,  tr  2.) 

John  Duns  Scotus  agreed  with  the  two  preceding  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  Universala 
and  their  relation  to  matter,  with  one  exception.    They  made  the  principle  of  individ- 
John  puns  uation  to  lie  in  the  matter  by  virtue  of  which  when  united  to  the  form,  i.  e.,  the  Uni- 

versal, each  individual  came  to  be  what  it  is.    But  Duns  Scotus  recognized  what  he 
called  a  separate  principle  besides,  viz.,  the  hseccfitas.    The  hsecceilas  in  conjunction 
with  the  quidditas  constitute  the  individual  thing. 

William  of  Occam  was  distinguished  as  the  reviver  of  the  Nominalistic  theory.  His 
doctrine  is  expressed  in  the  following  extracts  :  "  Entia  non  sunt  multiplicanda  praster 
WiLiam  of  Oo-  necessitatem.  Sufficiunt  singularia  et  ita  tales  res  universales  oinnino  frustra  ponuntur, 
Scientia  est  de  rebus  singularibus,  quod  pro  ipsis  singularibus  termini  supponunt,  f.  e, 
tantidem  significant. 


§  403.  THE    NATURE   OF   THE   CONCEPT. SKETCH    OF   THEORIES.  401? 

A  Universal  is  defined  by  him  as  "  conceptus  mentis  significans  univoce  plura  singularia,"  having  e« 
istence  in  the  mind,  not  subjectively  only,  but  also  objectively. 

'     "  IdejB  (i.  e.,  Universals  in  the  divine  mind)  sunt  primo  singularium  efc  non  sunt  specierum  quia 
ipsa  singularia  sola  sunt  extra  producibilia  et  nulla  alia." 

The  tendency  of  Occam's  theory  was  to  limit  our  scientific  knowledge  of  God  and  to  exalt  faith  as 
the  source  and  principal  foundation  of  theology.  Occam  was  the  last  who  needs  to  be  named  in  this  sketch 
of  the  history  of  opinions.  The  discussion  of  the  subject  did  not  cease  with  his  death,  for  his  opinions 
were  represented  and  defended  by  able  disciples.  But  as  Scholasticism  itself  gave  way  before  the 
various  influences  which  enlarged  the  knowledge  and  occupied  the  attention  of  the  learned,  the  discussion 
}f  this  question  became  less  important. 

§  402.  It  is  very  common  to  think  and  speak  with  wonder,  if  not  with  contempt,  of  the 
These  discus-  strifes  between  the  Nominalists  and  Realists.  The  modern  critic  often  congratulates 

in°rioTne^lecTor     the  m°a  °f  Ms  °Wn  tim68  that  the>  are  U0t  aistriicted  by  controversies  at  once  so  triv- 
contempt°  ^  an(^  fruitless.    He  asks  himself  how  it  could  be  possible,  that  what  seems  to  him 

only  a  metaphysical  subtlety  or  a  trivial  logomachy,  should  have  occasioned  so  great 
acrimony  between  the  parties  and  schools  concerned,  and  should  h:ive  even  embroiled  their  rulers  in  both 
church  and  state,  with  one  another  in  bitter  and  b'oody  contention.  The  proper  answer  to  this  question 
is  found  in  the  consideration,  that  the  logical  opinions  taught  were  immediately  applied  to  theological 
doctrines,  and  the  inferences  which  the  opposite  opinions  warranted  in  fact  or  were  supposed  to  warrant, 
in  revpect  to  the  received  docrines  of  the  chuich,  invested  them  \vith  the  eupremest  importance.  The 
Nominalist  was  persecuted  by  the  Realist,  :ind  the  Realist  denounced  the  Nominalist— not  as  a  Nominalist 
or  Realist,  but  as  teaching  principles  which,  in  their  consequences,  were  deemed  hostile  to  the  doctrines  or 
the  authority  of  the  church.  Viewed  in  this  light,  the  earnestness  and  bitterness  with  which  these  dis- 
putes were  conducted  should  occasion  no  surprise  ;  certainly  no  greater  surprise  than  that  the  philosophy 
of  Mr.  Hume,  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill,  Mr.  Herbert  Spencer,  or  Mr.  Mansel  should  now  be  judged  by  its  relaiions  to 
theological  opinion. 

But  the  narrow  range  which  this  discussion  took,  and  the  endless  reiteration  of  the  pame  proposi- 
tions and  the  same  arguments,  are  criticised  as  inexplicable.  These  features  of  the  controversy  are  not 
surprising  to  one  who  reflects  upon  the  scanty  literature  which  was  at  the  command  of  the  schoolmen,  and 
the  extreme  deference  which  they  paid  to  the  authorities  whom  they  acknowledged.  Their  literature  was 
at  first  a  portion  only  of  the  logical  treatises  of  Aristotle,  of  course  in  Latin  versions,  and  a  part  of  a  trans- 
lation of  the  Timeeus  of  Plato.  The  chief  source  of  their  knowledge  of  the  ancient  systems  was  the  writ- 
ings of  St.  Augustin.  There  was  none  of  that  enlarged  knowledge  of  man  which  the  classic  literature  and 
ancient  history  might  afford,  none  of  that  knowledge  of  nature  which  the  observations  of  Aristotle,  Pliny, 
and  Strabo  might  have  given,  none  of  that  independence  of  judgment  which  a  better  method  of  observing 
the  facts  of  nature  would  have  ensured.  The  education  of  the  schoolmen  was  logical  on  the  narrowest 
foundation  ;  and  as  soon  as  dexterity  in  logical  gymnastics  was  secured,  it  was  shut  up  to  the  sole  service 
of  training  others  to  expound  and  defend  certain  dogmas  already  fixed  and  defined  by  the  church. 

The  subject  matter  was  not  trivial,  for  it  is  yet  under  discussion.  From  Aristotle  to  Mill,  from  Plato 
to  Heuel,  the  same  questions  have  been  discussed  again  and  again,  and  with  as  much  earnestness  now  as 
then.  Indeed,  the  discoveries  of  modern  science  and  the  modern  questions  respecting  the  foundations  of 
Induction  and  of  Theological  Truth,  invest  these  questions  at  the  present  moment  with  a  deeper  interest 
and  a  more  profound  importance  than  they  could  possibly  have  had  when  discussed  by  Roscellin  and  An- 
selm,  or  by  Abelard  and  Occam.  Our  respect  for  the  schoolmen  will  not  be  diminished  \v  hen  we  trace  the 
progress  of  this  controversy  in  modern  times  and  among  recent  philosophers. 

§  403.  In  modern  times  the  diversities  of  opinion  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  the  con- 
Modern  Philos-  ceP*  nave  been  as  great,  and  the  controversies  well  nigh  as  active  as  they  were  among 
ophers.  Thomas  the  schoolmen.  The  same  questions  have  in  fact  been  agitated,  and  the  same  difficulties 

encountered,  with  this  difference — that  the  form  which  these  questions  have  taken  has 

been  more  generally  psychological,  rather  than  metaphysical.  This  was  no  more  than 
was  to  be  expected  from  the  general  course  of  modern  philosophy.  In  the  more  recent  German  specula- 
tions, the  logical  and  metaphysical  direction  of  thought  has  preponderated  ever  the  psychological  and  in- 
ductive. 

Our  sketch  of  these  opinions  begins  with  Hobbes,  a  Nominalist  of  the  extremest  school,  of  whom 
Leibnitz  says,  De  Stilo,  etc.  :  "  Ut  credam  ipsum  Occamum  non  fuisse  nominaliorem  quam  nunc  est 
Thomas  Hobbes,  qui  ut  verum  fatear,  rnihi  plusquam  nominalior  videter."  In  his  Human  Nature  (c.  5,  §  6) 
he  says  :  "  The  Universality  of  one  name  to  many  things  hath  been  the  cause  that  men  think  the  things 
themselves  are  universal ;  and  so  seriously  contend  that  besides  Peter  and  John  and  all  the  rest  of  the 
men  that  are,  have  been,  or  shall  be  in  the  world,  there  is  something  else  that  we  call  man,  viz. :  man  in 
general,  deceiving  themselves,  by  taking  the  universal  or  general  appellation  for  the  thing  it  sigciaeth." 
*  *  *  "It  is  plain,  therefore,  there  is  nothing  Universal  but  Names."  In  The  Leviathan  (p.  i  n.  iv.)  h« 
gays  :  "There  being  nothing  Universal  but  names,  for  the  things  named  are  every  one  of  them  ?ndrvidtial 
and  Singular,  one  Universal  name  is  imposed  on  many  things  for  their  similitule  in  eom*  »f»?.iity  01 
iccident." 


108  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  406. 

$  404.    Locke,  on  the  other  hand,  was  a  Conceptualist.    That  he  holds  to  the  power  of 
the  mind  to  form  abstract  ideas  is  evident  from  his  direct  assertion  in  the  Essay  (B.  IV 
John  Locke.  c.  vii.  §9).     "Does  it  not  require  some  pains  and  skill  to  form  the  general  idea  of  a 

triangle,  [which  is  yet  none  of  the  most  abstract,  comprehensive,  and  difficult,]  for 
must  be  neither  oblique,  nor  rectangle,  neither  equilateral,  equicrural,  nor  scalenon , 
but  all  and  none  >f  these  at  once.  In  effect,  it  is  something  imperfect  that  cannot  exist ;  [i.  e.,  in  fact,  or 
actually,]  an  idf  ^  wherein  some  parts  of  several  different  and  inconsistent  ideas  are  put  together.  'Til 
true  the  mind  in  '.his  imperfect  state  has  need  of  such  Ideas,  and  makes  all  the  haste  to  them  it  can,  foJ 
the  conveniency  <jf  communication,  and  enlargement  of  knowledge."  That  he  was  not  a  Realist  appears 
from  the  followii  £  (B.  III.  c.  iii.  §  11  sqq.)  :  *  *  "  It  is  plain  by  what  has  been  said,  that  General  and 
Universal,  beloug  not  to  the  real  existence  of  things  ;  but  are  the  inventions  and  creatures  oj  the  under- 
standing, made  >>y  it  for  its  own  use,  and  concern  only  signs,  whether  words  or  ideas."  "  When  therefore 
we  quit  particulars  the  general,  that  rest  [remain]  are  creatures  of  our  own  making,  their  general  nature 
being  nothing  but  the  capacity  they  are  put  to  by  the  understanding,  of  signifying  or  representing 
many  particulars."  He  argues  at  length  against  the  Realistic  doctrine  of  permanent  essences  or  species. 
"Whereby  it  is  plain  that  the  essences  of  the  sorts,  or  (if  the  Latin  term  please  better)  species  of  things, 
are  nothing  else  but  these  abstract  ideas."  "  To  be  a  man  or  of  the  species  man,  and  to  have  a  right  to  the 
name  man,  is  the  same  thing.  Again,  to  be  a  man,  or  of  the  same  species  man,  and  have  the  essence  of  a 
mai>,  is  the  same  thing."  "  I  would  not  here  be  thought  to  forget,  much  less  to  deny,  that  Nature  in  the 
production  of  things,  makes  several  of  them  alike,"  etc.  "  But  yet  I  think  we  may  say  the  sorting  of  them 
undur  names,  is  iht  workmansh'p  of  the  understanding,  taking  occasion  from  the  similitude  it  observes 
amoagst  them,  to  m* ko  abstract  general  ideas  and  set  them  up  in  the  mind  as  patterns  or  forms  [for  in 
thai  sense  the  word  form  has  a  very  proper  signification]  to  which,  as  particular  things  existing  are  found 
to  agree,  so  they  come  to  be  of  that  species,  or  are  put  into  that  class."  Th;it  there  are  no  real  essences 
or  furms  in  things  he  argues  from  the  fact  that  different  men  do  not  always  divide  species  or  define  their 
ideas  of  them,  alike,  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  tell  to  what  species  some  individuals  belong,  as  whether  a 
bat  is  a  bird  or  a  beast ;  whethi-r  a  human  monster  is  indeed  a  man,  etc.  ;  from  the  fact  that  all  existing 
things  are  changeable  and  corruptible,  while  our  abstract  ideas  of  a  circle,  a  mermaid,  or  a  horse,  are  fixed 
and  permanent,  because  they  exist  in  the  mind. 

§  405.    To  these  doctrines  of  Locke,  Leibnitz,  in  his  Nouveaux  Essais,  takes  the  follow- 
ing exceptions  :  He  denies  that  the  essence  of  the  species  is  only  an  abstract  idea,  and 
G.  W.  Leibnitz,     asserts  that  the  generality  of  such  ideas  consists  in  the  mutual  resemblance  of  individual 
thingi*,  and  this  resemblance  is  a  reality.    (Nouv.  Ess.,  B.  III.  c.  iii.  §  11.)    To  the  argu- 
ment that  different  men  class  individuals  into  species  diversely,  he  replies,  that  the  fact 
tnat  we  cannot  always  judge  correctly  of  the  interior  nature  of  objects  by  their  external  resemblances,  does 
»kvfc  disprove  that  there  is  such  a  nature  or  essence.  (§  14.)  He  defines  the  essence  of  a  thing  or  its  species,  to 
be  nothing  more  nor  less  than  the  possibility  of  that  which  we  propound,  i.  e.,  in  a  definition.    That 
which  we  believe  to  be  possible  is  expressed  iu  u  definition.    It  is  a  nominal  essence  when  it  is  possible — it 
is  real  when  it  is  believed  actually  to  exist,  d  posteriori,  or  by  experience.    If  we  knew  the  causes  of 
being  we  should  know  the  same  d  priori,  through  the  reason.     (§  15.)    See  also  JUedilaliones  de  cognition*, 
etc.,  in  which  he  makes  a  similar  distinction  between  nominal  and  real  definitions — the  nominal  giving 
the  distinguishing  marks  of  a  thing,  the  real  the  grounds  of  its  possible  existence  or  truth.    In  the  same 
Essay  he  is  supposed  by  Hamilton  and  others  to  make  an  important  distinction  in  respect  to  the  nature  of 
the  concept,  by  distinguishing  symbolical  from  intuitive  knowledge  (§  427). 

In  another  treatise,  De  stilo  philosophico  Nizolii,  he  praises  the  Nominalists,  and  Hobbes  among 
them  (§28),  and  yet  criticises  their  doctrine  (§31)  that  a  Universal  is  nothing  but  a  number  of  individuals 
taken  collectively,  urging  that  the  Universal  is  not  applicable  to  the  class  taken  as  a  whole,  but  to  each 
individual  of  the  class — or  to  the  class  taken  distributively. 

§  406.  Berkeley,  Introduction  to  the  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  thus  attacks  the 
Geo  Berkeley  doctrine  of  Locke.  After  describing  the  doctrine  as  commonly  received,  he  proceeds  : 
and  David  "  "Whether  others  have  this  wonderful  faculty  of  abstracting  their  ideas,  they  best  can 
Hume.  fen  .  for  myself  I  find,  indeed,  I  have  a  faculty  of  imagining,  or  representing  to  myself 
the  ideas  of  those  particular  things  I  have  perceived, and  of  variously  compounding  and 
dividing  them.  I  can  imagine  a  man  with  two  heads,  or  the  upper  parts  of  a  man  joined  to  the  body  of  ahorse. 
I  can  consider  the  hand,  the  eye,  the  nose,  each  by  itself  abstracted  or  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  body, 
but  then  whatever  hand  or  eye  I  imagine  must  have  some  particular  shape  and  color.  Likewise  the  idea 
of  man  that  I  frame  to  myself,  must  be  either  of  a  white,  or  a  black,  or  a  tawny,  a  straight  or  a  crooked,  a 
tall,  or  a  low,  or  a  middle-sized  man But  I  deny  that  I  can  abstract  one  from  another  or  con- 
ceive separately  those  qualities  which  it  is  impossible  should  exist  so  separated ;  or  that  I  can  frame  a 
general  notion  by  abstracting  from  particulars  in  the  manner  aforesaid."  And  yet  Berkeley,  in  another 
passage  concedes  the  power  of  abstraction  so  far  as  this  :  "  A  man  may  consider  a  figure  merely  as  trian- 
gular, without  attending  to  the  particular  qualities  of  the  angles  or  relations  of  the  sides.  So  far  he  may 
nbstract.  But  this  will  never  prove  that  he  can  frame  an  abstract,  general,  inconsistent  idea  of  a  tri- 
angle." In  respect  to  generalization  also,  he  concedes  the  following:  "An  idea,  which  considered  ic 


§  409.     THE  NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. SKETCH  OF  THEORIES.       408 

rtseli,  is  particular,  becomes  general  by  being  made  to  represent  or  stand  for  all  other  particular  idtas  of 
the  same  sort.  To  make  this  plain  by  an  example  :  suppose  a  geometrician  is  demonstrating  the  method 
of  cutting  a  line  into  two  equal  parts.  He  draws  for  instance,  a  black  line,  ol  an  inch  in  length.  This, 
which  is  itself  a  particular  line,  is  nevertheless,  with  regard  to  its  signification,  general ;  since  as  it  is 
there  used,  it  represents  all  particular  lines  whatsoever ;  .  .  .  .  and  so  the  name  line,  which  taken  abso- 
lutely is  particular,  by  being  a  sign  is  made  general." 

Hume  agrees  with  Berkeley,  adopting  nearly  his  language.  "A  great  philosopher  has  disputed,  the 
received  opinion  on  this  particular,  and  has  asserted  that  all  general  ideas  are  nothing  but  particular  onei 
annexed  to  a  certain  term,  which  gives  them  a  more  extensive  signification,  and  makes  them  recall  upoi. 
occasion  other  individuals  which  are  similar  to  them.  A  particular  idea  becomes  general,  by  being  an 
noxed  to  a  general  term;  that  is,  to  a  term  which,  from  a  customary  conjunction,  has  a  relation  to  manj 
other  particular  ideas,  and  readily  recalls  them  to  the  imagination.  Abstract  ideas  are  therefore  in  them- 
selves individual,  however  they  »ay  become  general  in  their  representation.  The  image  in  the  mind  is 
only  that  of  a  particular  object,  though  the  application  of  it  in  our  reasoning  be  the  same  as  if  it  was  uni- 
versal." The  only  difference  between  Hume  and  Berkeley  is,  that  Berkeley  makes  the  particular  idea  tc 
represent  the  general,  while  Hume  adds  that  it  becomes  general  by  being  annexed  to  a  term  which  is  cus- 
tomarily con  joined  with  many  particular  ideas,  and  readily  recalls  them.  In  other  words,  Hume  intro- 
duces Ids  doctrine  of  the  association  of  ideas  to  explain  how  one  idea  and  term  can  represent  several  objects, 
and  become  general.  We  shall  see  how  this  view  has  been  expanded  and  re-applied  by  later  writers. 

§  407.  Reid,  in  criticising  both  Hume  and  Berkeley,  does  not  give  his  own  views  in  the 
Thomas  Reid  form  of  a  statement  precisely  defined.  He  seems  scarcely  to  know  what  his  own  opinion 
and  Dugald  is.  in  respect,  however,  to  the  question  under  consideration,  and  the  nature  of  the  con- 
cept, he  lays  down  some  important  distinctions  which  are  quite  in  advance  of  the  doc- 
trines previously  admitted.  He  observes  (1)  that  a  general  idea  must  be  the  product  of 
an  individual  act  of  the  mind,  and  in  that  sense  and  so  far,  is  an  individual,  and  not  a  general,  entity.  2. 
"  Universdls  cannot  be  the  objects  of  imagination  when  we  take  that  word  in  its  strict  and  proper  sense.1' 
"Every  man  will  find  in  himself  *  *  *  that  he  cannot  imagine  a  man  without  color,  or  stature,  or 
shape."  %<  I  can  distinctly  conceive  universals,  but  I  cannot  imagine  them."  3.  "  Ideas  are  said  to  have  a 
real  existence  in  the  mind,  at  least  while  we  think  of  them,  but  universals  have  no  real  existence.  When 
we  ascribe  existence  to  them,  it  is  not  an  existence  in  time  or  place,  but  existence  in  some  individual  sub- 
ject ;  and  this  existence  means  no  more,  but  that  they  are  truly  attributes  of  such  a  subject.  Their  existenc6 
is  nothing  but  predicability,  or  the  capacity  of  being  attributed  to  a  subject."  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Pow- 
er?. Essay  V.  c.  vi. 

Dugald  Stewart  (Elements,  c.  iv.  §§  2,  3)  adds  nothing  to  the  discussion  or  elucidation  of  the  subject, 
except  to  call  attention  to  the  ambiguity  of  the  words  conception  and  idea,  and  to  more  than  intimate  that  the 
doctrine  of  the  nominalist  is  correct,  that  we  can  neither  generalize  nor  reason  except  by  the  aid  of  language. 
§  408.  Brown  (Lectures  46,  47)  avows  himself  to  be  a  conceptualist,  and  contends  that  all 
the  nominalists  have  either  in  fact  admitted  or  unconsciously  implied  the  truth  of  this 
Thomas    doctrine.    He  distinguishes  three  steps  or  elements  in   the  generalizing  process  (1)  '  the 
perception  or  conception  of  two  or  more  objects,  (2)  the  relative  feeling  of  their  resem- 
blance in  certain  respect?,  (3)  the  designation  of  these  circumstances  of  resemblance  by 
an  appropriate  name.'    He  criticises  some  expressions  of  the  conceptualists  as  incautious,  particularly 
the  use  of  the  word  idea  to  express  "  the  feeling  of  resemblance,"  because  this  word  "  seems  almost  in 
itself  to  imply  something  which  can  be  individualized  and  offered  to  the  senses."     "  The  same  remark 
may,  i:i  a  great  measure,  be  applied  to  the  use  of  the  word  conception,  which  also  seems  to  individualize  its 
object."     *'  The  phrase  general  notion  uould  have  been  far  more  appropriate."     '  Still  more  unfortunate  is  a 
verbal  impropriety  in  the  use  of  the  indefinite  article.'    "  It  was  not  the  mere  general  notion  of  the  nature 
and  properties  of  triangles,  but  the  general  idea  of  a  triangle  of  which  writers    *    *    have  been  accus- 
tomed to  speak."    This  has  exposed  the  doctrine  of  general  notions  to  ridicule,  such  as  Martinus  Scriblerus 
is  made  to  use  against  Locke. 

We  may  add  that  the  language  which  Brown  employs  continually  in  such  phrases  as  "  the  feeling  of 
resemblance,"  has  left  the  impression  that  the  notion  itself  is  a  merely  subjective  product  evolved  by  the 
laws  of  association,  and  is  therefore  as  accidental  and  capricious  as  the  feelings  of  an  individual  might 
happen  to  be.  This  has  opened  the  way  for,  and  given  sanction  to  the  views  adopted  by  J.  S.  Mill  and 
ethers,  which  overlook  the  objective  reality  of  the  ground  of  this  feeling  in  the  actual  resemblances  of  na- 
ture and  the  permanent  laws  and  powers  of  wh;ch  these  are  the  indications.  Against  all  such  views,  and 
the  tendency  to  adopt  them,  or  even  to  sanction  them  by  incautious  language,  the  protest  of  Leibnita 
against  Locke,  quoted  above,  is  most  timely  :  "  The  generality  of  utuversals  consists  in  the  mutual  resem- 
blance of  individual  things,  and  this  resemblance  is  a  reality." 

$  409.  Hamilton  (Lectures  on  Metaphysics,  Lee.  35)  criticises  Brown  severely  for  misrep- 
resenting the  nominalists,  in  asserting  that  they  overlook  the  fact  that  resemblance  in 
liam  individual  objects  is  the  ground  of  applying  to  them  universal  names.  Brown  may 
have  overlooked  these  concessions,  but  he  certainly  did  not  misstate  the  chief  objections 
to  their  theory.  Hamilton  then  labors  earnestly  to  show  that  liscerned  or  predicated 


410  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  410 

resemblance  is  individual,  and  i  ot  general ;  inasmuch  as  if  likeness  exists  between  a  pair  of  objects,  if 
must  be  an  individual  relation  of  likeness.  In  this  he  is  cleurly  in  the  wrong.  My  act  iu  discerning  the 
likeness  of  two  objects,  as  two  eggs,  is  an  individual  act,  but  the  relation  discerned,  the  likeness,  is  certain!} 
common  to,  i.  e.,  equally  affirmable  of,  the  two  eggs,  and  so  far  forth  a  general  conception  or  notion.  He 
then  adds  that  we  are  unfortunate  in  that  the  English  language  is  not  provided,  like  the  German,  witb 
torms  appropriate  to  universal  and  individual  objects.  "We  have  no  terms  like  Begrijf  and  Anschauung. 
But  what  the  Begriff  signifies,  whether  a  name  or  a  concept,  he  does  not  explain.  He  only  asserts  that  the 
peculiarity  of  the  Begriff  consists  in  its  being  the  product  of  the  faculty  of  comparison,  but  does  not  ex- 
plain what  comparison  evolves  as  its  effect  or  product.  He  overlooks  also  the  fact  that  the  act  of  com- 
parison is  involved  in  reasoning  and  perception,  as  well  as  in  the  judgment  that  produces  the  concept  01 
notion. 

In  his  logic,  however,  and  in  all  the  treatment  which  he  gives  to  the  concept,  he  proceeds  upon  the 
hypothesis  of  Conceptualism,  in  the  manner  in  which  Reid  qualifies  and  explains  it.  Indeed,  it  would  seem 
that  his  peculiar  doctrine  of  the  syllogism  and  deductive  reasoning  can  have  no  meaning  on  the  theory  of 
Nominalism.  And  yet  he  would  almost  have  us  believe  that  he  is  a  Nominalist,  and  "  that  the  opposing  par- 
ties  are  really  at  one."  Hamilton  refers  with  approbation  (.Logic,  Lee.  10)  to  the  distinction  between  sym- 
bolical and  intuitive  knowledge  which  was  made  by  Leibnitz,  and  which  in  his  view  "  has  superseded  in 
Germany  the  whole  controversy  of  Nominalism  and  Conceptualism,  which,  in  consequence  of  the  non- 
establishment  of  this  distinction,  *  *  *  has  idly  agitated  the  psychology  of  this  country  and  of  France." 
But  what  this  distinction  is,  he  does  not  explain  so  far  as  to  say  whether  the  symbol  is  a  mere  name  or  a 
universal  notion.  (Cf.  Archbp.  W.  Thomson,  Outlines  of  the  Necessary  Laws  of  Thought,  §§  25,  47,  48.  H.  L. 
Mansel,  Proleg.  Log.  chap,  i.) 

§  410.  John  Stuart  Mill,  in  his  Logic,  B.  i.  c.  2,  and  his  Examination  of  Sir  William 

Hamilton's  Philosophy,  chap.  17,  earnestly  advocates  Nominalism.     Names  are  names  of 

in^n    StUart     things,  but  while  they  denote  things,  they  also  connote  the  attributes  of  things.   Thus  horse 

(or  chalk)  denotes  every  individual  horse  (or  piece  of  chalk),  but  it  at  the  same  time 

notes  or  marks,  i.  e.,  connotes  all  that  is  peculiar  to  every  horse,  or  to  the  class  horse. 

Instead  of  the  term  concept,  OT  general  abstract  notion,  Mill  would  use  class  name.    The  mind,  whenever  it 

uses  the  class  name  intelligently,  must  have  some  individual  object  before  it,  either  perceived  or  remembered. 

It  need  not,  however,  direct  its  attention  to  every  part  of  this  individual  object.    It  need  think  of,  i.  e., 

attend  only  to,  those  parts  which  the  name  connotes.    It  need  not  think  of  all  of  these  even,  but  only  of 

those  which  it  has  occasion  to  use  at  the  moment  for  its  immediate  purposes.    Now  it  is  by  association  that 

we  connect  with  a  class  certain  parts  of  an  object,  so  that  when  we  think  of  the  name,  though  the  whole 

object  is  perceived  or  imagined,  only  those  parts  of  the  object  are  attended  to  which  the  name  connotes. 

It  is  by  association  that  these  parts  are  thus  connected  with  one  another  in  the  mind  and  with  the  clasa 

name  which  suggests  them  when  the  name  is  first  presented  to  the  mind ;  or  which  they  suggest  when  the 

individual  object  is  first  perceived,  and  these  parts  are  attended  to. 

This  theory  is  explained  at  great  length  by  its  able  and  ingenious  defender.  In  its  substantial  fea- 
tures it  is  identical  with  the  theory  of  Hume  and  of  Hobbes.  It  is  defective  in  the  following  particulars 
It  does  not  explain  the  import  of  parts  of  things,  nor  the  relation  of  the  parts  to  the  wholes  to  which  they 
belong,  or  in  which  they  inhere.  Attributes,  properties,  and  relations,  are  what  are  intended  by  the  word 
"  parts,"  but  what  attributes  are,  and  how  they  can  be  affirmed  or  predicated  of  a  thing,  is  either  assumed  to 
be  self-evident,  and  therefore  to  need  no  explanation,  or  else  the  relation  of  attributes  to  beings  is  assumed 
to  be  fully  expressed  by  that  of  parts  to  a  whole.  Next,  the  author  overlooks  that,  when  we  attend  to  the 
"  connoted  "  parts  of  a  single  horse,  it  is  not  to  them  as  parts  of  the  individual,  but  as  resembling  similar  parta 
in  all  the  horses  "  denoted."  Except  as  they  are  like  these  parts  of  the  objects  of  the  class,  and  so  serve  to 
represent  them,  the  thought  of  them  would  be  of  no  service  whatever ;  the  mind  would  rest  in  the  indi- 
vidual, and  never  move  a  step  beyond ;  neither  the  thought  nor  the  name  would  give  us  a  class  object,  or  a 
class  name.  Next,  association  is  not  predication.  The  mental  connection  by  which  when  I  think  of  one 
object  I  must  think  of  another,  is  purely  subjective ;  it  is  a  movement  or  tendency  which  pertains  to  the 
mind  only.  The  relation  thought  of,  of  resembling  attributes  to  other  attributes,  or  of  these  attributes  to 
beings,  is  purely  objective.  It  is  as  Leibnitz  observes,  a  reality.  When  we  go  a  step  further,  and  take  in 
the  relation  of  these  resembling  attributes  to  the  laws  and  causes  which  they  indicate,  we  strike  upon  a 
deeper  vein.  Thus,  the  powers  and  other  obvious  qualities  connoted  by  the  word  horse,  indicate  an  interior 
structure  fitted  for  nourishment,  strength,  spirit,  instincts,  uses.  But  the  possibility  of  such  relations  is 
entirely  unprovided  for  by  Mill's  theory  of  the  concept.  Mr.  Mill  objects  to  the  doctrine  of  Hamilton, 
that  we  classify  and  reason  by  the  medium  of  concepts,  lid  would  prefer  to  say,  that  we  classify  and  reason 
by  the  medium  of  names.  But  he  concedes  that  it  is  what  the  names  connote,  that  gives  them  all  their 
meaning  and  application,  and  that  we  attend  only  to  those  parts  of  the  object,  when  we  use  the  name 
of  the  object  or  think  the  object  under  the  name :  Hamilton  means  no  more.  If  Mill  supposes  him  to 
teach  or  to  authorize  the  inference  that  we  form  an  individual  percept  or  image  of  the  import  of  the  con- 
3ept  by  the  medium  of  which  we  think  of  an  individual  thing,  he  is  mistaken  as  to  his  meaning.  His  own 
language  might  also  expose  him  to  the  charge  of  teaching  that  we  think  of  individual  objects  by  the  medium 
of  the  parts  wliich  their  individual  names  connote.  The  language,  that  we  think  by  means  of  a  concept,  s 


§413.      THE  NATUKE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. SKETCH  OP  THEORIES.       411 

class  name,  or  the  connotation  of  a  name,  is  liable  to  be  misconceived,  and  Mill  has  done  well  to  guard 
against  this  misconception,  but  he  has  unjustly  charged  upon  Hamilton  a  doctrine  which  he  does  no1 
hold. 

§  411.     Herbert  Spencer  (Principles  of  Psychology,  part  i.  chaps.  8  and  9)  agrees  witt 
Mill  and  Hume  in  their  leading  principles,  as  already  explained. 

Herbert  Spencer.  He  recognizes  and  earnestly  insists  upon  the  fact,  that  we  perceive  similarity  be- 

tween thing's  and  between  the  relations  of  things ;  also,  that  the  perception  of  such 
relations  is  not  only  essential  to  reasoning  and  classification,  but  even  to  an  act  of  sense- 
perception.    He  urges,  that  we  are  not  properly  said  to  perceive  an  object,  unless  we  also  generalize  and 
reason  in  regard  to  it. 

As  to  whether  we  generalize  and  reason  by  means  of  the  concept,  and  what  is  the  nature  of  the  concept 
or  of  the  name  when  thus  employed,  he  raises  no  questions,  and  therefore  answers  none.  How  we  con- 
nect these  parts,  seen  to  be  similar  and  similarly  related,  into  wholes,  and  what  the  wholes  are,  he  does  not 
explain  any  further  than  to  refer  us  to  the  law  of  association,  by  which  one  suggests  another  and  the 
name. 

"We  scarcely  need  repeat  the  remark,  that  the  law  of  association  only  accounts  for  the  process  by  whict 
these  objects  come  into  the  mind,  but  does  not  at  all  explain  what  the  mind  believes  in  regard  to  them 
These  so-called  objects  or  parts  which  are  recognized  as  like  and  recalled  to  the  mind,  are  believed  to  be 
attributes.  But  what  attributes  are,  and  what  are  their  relations  to  their  fellow-attributes  and  to  the  things 
to  which  they  belong,  and  what  is  the  nature  of  the  object  of  our  thought  when  we  class  objects  by  means 
of  them,  and  what  its  relation  to  the  objects  which  it  denotes  :  none  of  these  questions  are  discussed;  they 
are  not  even  raised  by  Mr.  Spencer. 

§  412.  Of  the  modern  German  philosophers,  Kant  should  be  named  first,  not  only  in  the 
relation  of  time,  but  on  account  of  the  influence  which  he  has  exerted  upon  all  subse- 
Immanuel  Kant,  quent  philosophy.  Kant  distinguished  very  sharply  between  individual  and  general 
objects  of  knowledge,  and  in  the  spirit  of  these  aims  he  introduced  many  technical  terms 
which  are  not  only  still  retained  in  the  German  systems,  but  have  been  adopted  by 
English  thinkers.  Kant's  terminology  is  not  only  a  permanent  monument  of  his  own  activity,  but  it  haa 
served  to  fix  some  very  important  distinctions  in  the  minds  of  speculative  men.  Kant  says  very  little 
directly  concerning  the  nature  of  the  concept  as  the  product  and  object  of  the  mind's  activity,  or  concern- 
ing its  relation  to  the  objects  of  sense.  Indirectly,  however,  he  treats  this  topic  very  fully.  First  of  all, 
the  concept,  der  Begriff,  is  the  proauct  and  object  of  the  understanding — as  the  percept  die.  Vorstellung — 
der  SinnlicIiK  Gzgensland,  is  the  product  and  object  of  the  action  of  sense.  The  image  das  Bild,  das  Schema, 
is  the  work  of  the  fantasy,  the  reproductive  and  productive.  The  percept  is  individual  and  so  is  the  image- 
proper.  The  concept  is  general  and  definite.  The  Schema  is  intermediate  between  the  two,  being  indefi- 
nite and  movable,  and  in  a  certain  sense  general  (cf.  §  236).  The  percept,  the  image,  and  the  Schema  are 
all  directly  apprehended  by  the  mind.  The  concept  is  mediately  apprehended  and  mediately  applied, 
requiring,  to  be  used,  that  it  should  be  concrete  in  an  individual  object,  and  that  an  individual  should  be 
understood  by  mean*  of  itself.  Knowledge  by  concepts  is  preeminently  mediate  knowledge. 

In  the  concept,  the  matter  is  distinguished  from  the  form.  The  matter  is  furnished  by  the  senses,  tht 
form  is  furnished  by  the  understanding.  Before  the  two  are  brought  together,  the  sense-matter  must  be- 
come a  percept  in  the  forms  of  space  and  time.  The  matter  of  the  orange  is  furnished  by  all  the  senses. 
This  matter  becomes  the  percept  orange  by  taking  certuin  relations  to  space.  It  becomes  a  concept  by  being 
viewed  by  the  understanding  as  a  being  with  attributes  ;  which  are  distinguished  from  each  other,  and  yet 
are  cominpn.  to  many  individuals,  involving  the  recognition  of  diversity,  similarity,  and  production  or  cau- 
sation. These  and  other  such  forms  are  given  by  the  understanding  itself;  which,  in  acts  of  thought,  as  it 
were,  covers  over  or  invests  the  matter  of  the  senses  with  each  and  all  of  them.  It  would  seem  from 
these  doctrines,  that  Kant  was  eminently  a  conceptualist>  inasmuch  as  he  insists  so  much  upon  the  concept 
as  the  medium  of  thought,  and  so  often  repeats  the  assertion  that  thought  is  knowledge  by  the  medium 
of  concepts.  But  he  does  not  declare  himself  such.  His  treatises  are  all  logical  and  metaphysical  rather 
than  psychological.  Though  a  theory  of  the  powers  and  processes  of  the  soul  is  constantly  implied  by  him, 
it  is  not  presented  in  the  psychological  form.  It  would  doubtless  have  been  far  better  for  German  philoso- 
phy, and  for  all  modern  philosophy,  if  his  method  had  been  less  metaphysical  and  more  psychological.  He 
followed  the  bad  example  of  the  Greek  philosophers,  and  like  them  left  to  his  disciples  and  successors  a 
legacy  of  profitless  subtleties  and  endless  disputes  in  respect  to  the  nature  and  meaning  of  Concept,  Idea, 
Matter  and  Form ;  as  well  as  of  Sense,  Understanding,  and  Reason.  These  terms  have  been  too  generally 
treated  by  the  later  schools,  as  entities,  hypoatasized  like  the  ideas  of  Plato,  the  forms  of  Aristotle,  and 
he  substantial  forma  of  the  schoolmen. 

§  413.    Fichte  accepted  literally  the  principle  of  Kant  that  the  forms  of  the  concept  are 

the  products  of  the  understanding,  and  applied  it  with  logical  rigor  to  its  appropriate 

L  H  Fichte.  consequences,  viz. :  that  all  the  so-called  forms  of  knowledge  as  contrasted  with  its  mat. 

ter,  are  furnished  by  the  mind's  own  creative  activity.     The  matter  of  all  knowledge  ii 

a  subjective  experience  of  the  soul,  therefore  we  can  only  reach  the  objective  world  by 

n thought  process,  t.  e.,  by  means  of  concepts,  created  or  evolved  according  to  the  forms  of  the  mind  itself 


412  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §415 

This  assumption  makes  the  use  of  the  concept  essential  to  the  apprehension  cf  the  external  world,  i. «.,  to 
sense-perception.  This  reverses  the  order  of  dependence  which  was  assumed  and  supposed  by  both  Nom- 
inalists and  Conceptualists.  These  agree  in  making  the  real,  i.  e.,  the  material,  produce  and  go  before  the 
name  and  the  concept.  Both  agree  in  making  the  general  follow  and  be  dependent  upon  the  individual, 
t.  e.,  the  actual.  But  Fichte  would  make  the  individual  dependent  upon  the  concept,  at  least  for  its  form. 
Upon  this  theory  the  whole  question  respecting  the  relation  of  the  concept  to  the  individual  object  be- 
tomes  entirely  changed.  Individual  objects  are  themselves  individualized  concepts.  Real  things  are  tha 
creations  of  the  mind.  The  concept  itself  becomes  an  entity,  more  potent  than  the  idea  of  Plato  or  the 
form  of  Aristotle. 

§  414.    This  direction  reached  Us  terminus  in  the  extreme  opinion  of  Hegel,  who  makes 
the  concept  every  thing  and  the  individual  nothing,  who  evolves  the  real  world  from 
cK  "W.  F.  Hegel,     the  concept,  to  which  he  ascribes  an  infinitude  of  elements  and  a  power  of  self-develop- 
ment, adequate  to  produce  the  boundless  varieties  of  individual  things.    Should  it  be 
said  that  this  is  a  misconstruction  of  his  doctrine  ;  that  he  treats  only  of  the  relation 
of  concepts  to  one  another,  and  of  individuals  only  so  far  as  they  are  conceived  or  turned  into  concepts, 
the  result  is  the  same,  so  far  as  our  position  is  concerned  ;  which  is  that  he  does  not  concern  himself  with 
the  relation  of  the  concept  to  the  individual,  nor  with  the  nature  of  the  concept  as  a  product  of  the  mind, 
nor  its  a  representative  of  concrete  being,  but  treats  it  as  an  all-sufficing  and  independent  entity. 

§  415.  Herbart  and  the  philosophers  of  his  school  are  in  as  striking  contrast  with  the 
other  German  schools  in  their  views  of  the  concept  as  in  their  views  of  many  other 
J.  F.  Herbart.  points.  Herbart  sharply  distinguishes  the  notion  viewed  psychologically,  from  the  no- 
tion as  regarded  logically.  Psychologically  viewed,  the  notion  is  a  growth  resulting 
necessarily  from  the  repetition  of  many  homogeneous  and  heterogeneous  sense-percep- 
tions. The  homogeneous  are  those  which  naturally  blend  together,  as  similar  colors,  tastes,  sounds. 
These  by  repetition  enforce  one  another  so  as  to  increase  the  capacity  of  the  soul  for  another  exercise  of 
the  kind.  The  heterogeneous  are  different  colors,  sounds,  etc.,  preeminently  the  objects  of  one  sense  as 
related  to  those  of  another,  as  a  color  to  a  sound,  and  of  either  to  a  sight.  These  combine  with  one  another 
into  a  series  under  a  psychical  law  of  tension,  which  Herbart  claim?  pertains  to  the  energy  of  the  soul  in 
passing  from  one  state  to  another,  and  which  impels  the  one  to  recall  the  other.  A  homogeneous  impres- 
sion or  a  heterogeneous  combination,  when  often  enough  repeated,  becomes  a  definite  concept,  either  of 
a  single  attribute,  as  of  yellow,  round,  etc.,  or  of  a  combination  of  attributes,  as  those  parts  or  attributes 
which  make  up  the  contents  or  essence  of  the  orange.  As  to  the  relation  of  the  concept  to  things  or  ma- 
terial objects,  the  views  of  Herbart  do  not  differ  from  those  of  Mill  as  already  explained.  The  mind 
affirms  those  parts  or  elements  which  have  become  prominent  in  the  way  explained,  of  their  background 
of  accidental  and  changeable  accompaniments.  This  background  is  the  individual  thing  of  which  they 
are  affirmed,  as  the  accidental  peculiarities  or  relations  of  color,  surface  and  form,  belonging  to  a  single 
orange.  To  affirm  the  one  of  the  other  is  constantly  to  connect  the  one  with  the  other,  under  Herbart's 
law  or  theory  of  Association.  In  other  words,  what  is  ordinarily  called  the  discernment  of  similarity  in 
the  case  of  single  attributes,  Herbart  resolves  into  the  subjective  blending  or  enforcement  of  homogeneous 
mental  states.  "What  is  ordinarily  affirmed  to  be  the  predication  of  a  concept  as  belonging  to  a  thing,  he 
would  explain  by  the  necessary  suggestion  of  one  part  of  a  series  of  mental  impressions  by  another,  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  the  mind's  own  experience. 

A  concept  is  only  a  partial  percept,  but  stronger  in  some  parts  than  in  others,  the  stronger  parts  being 
connected  with  the  weaker  by  the  laws  of  suggestion. 

The  concept  as  a  logical  entity  is  treated  as  a  fixed  and  definite  whole,  made  up  of  its  fixed  constitu- 
ents, or  essence.  Psychologically  viewed,  it  is  not  so  much  a  finished  whole,  a  completed  product,  as  it  is 
a  tendency  of  the  mind  toward  such  a  product.  The  mind  is  always  forming  concepts  of  individual  objects, 
but  the  process  in  respect  to  none  of  them  is  necessarily  complete.  For  this  reason  we  can  never  contem- 
plate a  concept  as  an  object  of  the  mind's  apprehension,  separately  from  the  individuals  in  which  it  is 
realized.  We  require  some  individual  example  of  a  man,  orange,  house,  etc.,  to  suggest  with  sufficient 
distinctness  and  force,  the  parts  which  the  concept  represents.  The  very  force  with  which  these  are  sug- 
gested tends  to  keep  out  from  the  attention  the  weaker  parts  which  are  accidental  and  individual,  except 
in  very  extraordinary  and  exceptional  cases.  In  this  way  it  is  that  the  difficulties  urged  by  Berkeley  and 
Hume  are  set  aside,  and  the  objections  of  the  Nominalists  to  the  possibility  of  concepts  are  answered. 
(Cf.  Herbart,  Psychologic  als  Wissenschaft,  §§120,  121.  Drobisch,  Emp .  Psych.,  §§15,  16,  17.  Waite, 
Letirb.  d.  Psych.,  §  20,  Volkmann,  Grundriss  der  Psych.,  §  98.) 

With  Schleiermacher,  and  Schelling  in  his  later  years,  a  better  direction  was  developed  in  German 
philosophy,  which  has  been  followed  with  great  zeal  by  I.  H.  Fichte,  A.  Trendelenburg,  H.  Lotze,  H. 
Ritter,  H.  Ulrici,  F.  Uberweg,  and  many  others.  They  all  labor  at  the  same  problem  which  vexed  the 
ancient  schools— the  nature  of  the  concept  and  its  relations  to  the  real  object ;  or,  as  expressed  in  othei 
language,  the  relations  of  Thought  to  Being. 

Cf.  J.  M.  de  Gerando,  Hist.  comp.  des  Syslemes  de  Philosophic.  3d  ed.,  Paris,  1847-8.  Abelard,  Ott- 
vrages  inedits  de,  par  Viet.  Cousin.  'Paris,  1836.  C.  de  Remusat,  Abelard.  Paris,  1845.  M.  X.  Rousselot, 
Etudes  sur  la  philosophic  dans  le  moyen-age.  Paris,  1840.  B.  Haureau,  De  la  Philosophie  Scolastique. 


g  417.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. — CONCLUSIONS    FROM  THEORIES.  41b 

Paris,  1850.  H.  Ritter,  AUg.  Qeschichte  der  PldlosopUe.  Hamburg,  1829-53.  C.  Prantl,  Geschichte  dei 
Logik  im  Abendlande.  Leipzig,  1855-67.  Fr.  Ueberweg,  System  der  Logik.  etc.  Bonn,  2d  ed.,  1866. 
Qrundriss  der  Geschichte  der  Philosophic.  Berlin,  1866.  "W.  Kaulich,  Geschichte  d.  ScholasiisQhen  PkUeso- 
phie.  1  Theil.  Prag.,  1863. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

THE   NATURE    OF   THE   CONCEPT. CONCLUSIONS   FROM   THE    HISTORY   OP 

THEORIES. 

THE  brief  review  which  we  have  taken  of  the  various  theories  of  the  concept  will  enable  us 
to  see  more  clearly  and  to  define  more  exactly  its  real  nature  as  a  mental  product,  and 
its  relations  to  the  objects  from  which  it  is  formed,  and  to  which  it  is  applied.  Every 
false  or  defective  theory  is  founded  upon  some  truth.  What  that  truth  is,  it  is  always 
important  to  discover,  even  when  by  exaggeration  it  is  distorted  into  positive  error,  or, 
by  omission  there  is  defect  and  mutilation.  The  consideration  of  such  defective  or  ex- 
aggerated theories  is  most  useful  in  enabling  us  to  ascertain  the  truth  in  all  its  relations, 
and  thus  to  develop  it  completely,  as  well  as  to  distinguish  it  from  errors  of  excess  or 
defect.  Indeed,  it  is  scarcely  possible  that  a  complete  and  satisfactory  exposition  of  the 
nature  and  relations  of  the  concept  should  be  either  furnished  or  appreciated  without  a 
critical  review  of  the  various  theories  which  have  been  devised  and  defended  in  respect 
to  them.  It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  variety  of  these  theories,  and  the 
pertinacity  with  which  they  have  been  defended,  indicate  that  the  subject  is  more  than 
usually  difficult  of  mastery,  and  that  a  satisfactory  exposition  of  it  must  require  a  subtle 
and  copious  analysis.  In  the  light  of  our  historical  sketch,  we  observe  : 

The  concept  au  §  416t  1-  The  concept,  as  a  mental  object  or  product,  is  to 
R?aS  and  not  ke  distinguished  from  the  mental  act  by  which  it  is  origi- 
nally produced  or  recalled.  The  act  is  necessarily  an  indi- 
vidual act.  The  concept  or  product  may  be  general.  In  other  words,  it 
is  possible  that  the  mind  should  perform  individual  acts  of  generalization. 

There  is  no  logical  inconsistency  between  the  individualization  which  must  pertain  to  the 
act  and  the  generalization  which  may  pertain  to  the  product.  When  we  form — i.  e.,  distin- 
guish— for  the  first  time,  or  reproduce  for  the  thousandth  time,  the  simple  concept  yellow,  or 
the  complex  concept  orange,  we  distinguish  the  act  from  the  object.  We  know  that  the  act  ia 
individual,  but  this  does  not  imply  or  involve  that  the  object  should  be  individual  also  (cf, 
Reid,  Essays,  v.,  c.  vi.  §  1). 

implies  the  dis-  §417.  2.  The  concept,  as  a  mental  product  and  a  mental 
i^ti(and0fattri-  °^ject)  implies  that  the  distinction  of  individual  beings  and 
their  attributes  is  accepted  as  real,  and  therefore  admitted 
as  possible.  The  first  step  in  forming  the  simplest  concepx  or  in  finding 
the  elements  out  of  which  it  is  formed,  is  the  act  of  making  this  dis- 
Unction. 

That  this  distinction  ia  made  and  can  be  thought  of  by  the  mind,  is  asserted  or  conceded 
even  by  the  extremest  nominalists.  Thus  Hobbes  says  :  "  One  universal  name  is  imposed  on 
many  tilings  for  their  similitude  in  some  quality  or  accident."  That  is,  the  mind  must  distin 


*14  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §419. 

guish  the  qualitias  or  accidents  from  things,  in  order  to  discern  likenesses  between  them 
Berkeley  does  indeed  say  for  himself,  "  I  deny  that  I  can  abstract  one  from  another,  or  con 
ceive  separately,  those  qualities  which  it  is  impossible  should  exist  so  separated."  But  in 
another  passage  he  concedes,  "  A  man  may  consider  a  figure  merely  as  triangular,  without 
attending  to  the  particular  qualities  of  the  angles  or  relations  of  the  sides.  So  far  he  may 
abstract."  Mill  is  very  full  and  decided  in  recognizing  the  distinction  of  things  and  theii 
attributes  as  the  foundation  of  the  universal  name  (Logic,  B.  i.  c.  ii.  §§  4  and  6  ;  Review 
of  Hamilton,  c.  xvii.).  We  adduce  the  testimony  of  these  writers,  not  because  we  accept 
their  authority  as  decisive,  but  because  their  theory  of  the  concept  would  tempt  them  to 
overlook  or  deny  this  distinction  if  it  were  possible.  If  they  recognize  it,  there  must  be 
decisive  reasons  why  they  should,  and  these  reasons  are  found  in  its  necessary  truth. 

The  testimony  of  consciousness,  observation,  and  language  upon  this  point  is  decisive. 
All  men  make  this  distinction,  all  men  accept  it,  all  men  express  it  in  the  language  which  they 
use  and  understand.  We  cannot  discern  likeness  or  unlikeness  in  any  parts  or  attributes, 
without  distinguishing  them  from  the  objects  themselves.  But  in  separating  or  distinguishing 
them,  we  affirm  that  they  belong  to  the  objects.  In  what  sense  they  belong  or  pertain  to  them,  wa 
need  not  ask.  To  what  they  belong,  we  need  not  here  discuss.  What  remains  after  all  the 
attributes  are  removed,  or  how  it  is  possible  that  the  attribute  should  be  distinguished  from  the 
being  from  which  it  cannot  be  separated,  we  do  not  here  inquire.  The  nature  of  the  distinc- 
tion of,  and  the  connection  between  beings  and  their  attributes,  will  be  discussed  in  its  place. 
It  is  enough  for  us  to  urge  that  it  is  real,  and  is  universally  made  as  the  condition  of  the  forma- 
tion and  the  ground  of  the  reality  of  concepts. 

§  4'8.  3.  The  attribute  is  always  known  or  apprehended  as 
object.  related  to  a  thing  or  being.  It  is  always  held  by  the  mind 

as  attributable  to  or  predicable  of  some  being  or  thing.  As 
an  object  of  thought,  it  is  a  related  entity  or  object,  or  an  object  in 
relation.  Its  import,  or  what  is  thought  of  by  the  mind,  is  not  the 
object  as  such,  but  the  object  as  related,  or  the  object  together  with  its 
relation. 

We  rest,  at  this  stage  of  our  analysis,  to  inquire,  whether  it  is  possible  for  the  mind  to 
conceive  or  think  of  a  related  object  or  of  an  object  as  related.  The  question  is  not  whether 
the  mind  can  contemplate  the  relation  as  such  without  the  object,  but  whether,  when  the 
object  is  before  the  mind,  another  element  can  be  added,  viz.,  its  relation.  To  select  the 
simplest  example:  The  mind  knows  the  percept  red;  it  knows  it  as  the  attribute  of  some 
being,  viz.,  as  the  attribute  red. 

It  would  seem  that  there  ought  to  be  no  question  of  the  truth  of  this  assertion,  if  the 
definition  given  of  knowledge  is  correct,  that  it  is  the  apprehension  of  entities  in  their  rela- 
tions. Whatever  the  mind  can  know,  it  can  apprehend  or  think  of.  If  it  can  know  a  related 
object,  it  can  think  of  such  an  object. 


involves  the  '      '  attribute,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  necessarily 

'SmiiaStv11  °f  mc^ll(^es  *ne  *wo  relations  of  being  separated  from  and  connect- 
ed with  a  being,  is  next  viewed  in  the  relation  of  similarity  to 
other  individual  attributes,  constituted  and  known  like  itself.  The  indi- 
vidual red  is  compared  with  other  individual  reds,  and  there  is  added  to 
its  import  its  likeness  to  them. 

It  is  often  said  (cf   Mill,  Logic,  B.  i.  c.  i.),  that  we  might  affirm  the  individual  attribute 
of  an  individual  object,  as  white  of  an  egg  or  of  chalk,  without  discerning  a  similar  attribute 


§421.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT.  —  CONCLUSIONS  FROM  THEORIES.  416 

in  any  other  object.  That  this  is  possible,  is  true  ;  but  it  is  also  possible  to  go  further,  and 
to  discern  its  likeness  to  other  individual  attributes.  This  is  also  usually  done,  whenever  an 
attribute  is  expressed  in  language.  The  similar  is  conceived  as  the  same  (cf.  §  383).  But 
when  the  similar  is  thus  recognized  as  the  same,  the  additional  relation  of  similarity  is  ob- 
served by  the  mind  and  represented  by  the  term.  The  mind  adds  this  third  relation  to  the 
two  others  already  considered,  and  the  three  are  included  in  what  the  mind  thinks  or  knows 
in  the  meaning  or  signification  of  the  word. 

§  420.    5.  The  attribute  thus  formed,  having  a  common  ap- 
"  plication  to  all  similar  beings,  may  be  used  to  designate  both 


like  attributes  and  like  beings  —  i.  e.,  it  may  be  used  for  the 
purposes  of  naming.  The  function  of  naming  does  not  consist  in  affixing 
an  oral  or  written  symbol,  an  articulate  sound,  or  a  written  character. 
This  is  an  accidental  circumstance,  a  mere  appendage  for  convenience. 
The  mental  function  or  import  of  the  name  is  its  use  in  recognition  or 
description. 

The  recognition  may  be  of  an  object  as  similar  or  as  identical.  Again,  we  recognize 
objects  as  attributes  or  as  beings.  But  so  far  as  we  do  this  by  attributes  proper,  we  employ 
single  attributes  or  a  combination  of  the  same.  Thus  we  may  use  red  as  an  attribute,  or  red 
as  a  noun  —  the  red  or  the  reds  ;  ordinarily,  however,  we  use  many  attributes  combined,  as  in 
the  concept,  the  red  currant.  When  we  describe,  we  simply  cause  others  to  recognize  the 
objects  described,  and  by  methods  similar  to  those  which  we  use  for  ourselves. 

All  that  we  need  here  to  notice  is,  that,  when  the  concept  is  used  to  denote  objects,  an 
additional  relation  is  taken  into  its  meaning,  and  this  relation  is  apprehended  by  the  mind. 
This  demoting  import  of  the  concept  enlarges  its  meaning  by  another  relation. 

§  421.  6.  The  use  of  the  concept  in  a  system  of  classifica- 
agJnt.da£  tion  enlarges  its  meaning  still  further.  The  capacity  of  the 

concept  to  be  a  classifier,  arises  from  two  circumstances  :  the 
fact  that  the  attribute  which  is  its  germ,  is  common  to  more  or  fewer 
individual  beings,  and  the  fact  that  these  attributes  are  very  unequally 
distributed.  Whenever  it  happens  that  one  attribute,  as  red,  belongs  to 
more  beings  than  another  attribute,  as  sour  /  then  the  red  may  denote 
the  larger  class  —  i.  e.,  the  genus  /  and  the  sour,  the  smaller  or  subordinate 
class  —  i.  e.,  the  species.  Sour,  in  such  a  case,  may  be  the  differentia  of 
the  species  —  the  sour-reds.  If  oval  is  universally  present  with  the  species 
sour-reds,  it  would  be  a  property  •  if  hirsute  were  sometimes  present  and 
sometimes  absent,  it  would  be  an  accident  of  the  same  species.  The  ap- 
plication of  any  attribute  in  all  or  any  of  these  class-relations,  obviously 
gives  an  addition  to  its  import.  When  a  concept  is  used  to  classify, 
another  relation  is  thereby  taken  up  into  its  meaning,  and  its  meaning  is 
thereby  so  much  enlarged. 

That  the  intellectual  process  of  classification  is  subsequent  to  that  which  underlies  the 
process  of  naming  —  i.  e.,  the  act  of  recognition  or  description  —  is  evident  from  a  moment's 
thought.  Both  involve  what  may  be  called  generalization  —  i.  e.,  the  use  of  the  concept  as 
general  or  as  common  to  more  or  fewer  individuals.  One  only  is  generification  —  that  is,  the 
arrangement  of  these  individuals  into  higher  and  lower  classes.  The  second  only  recognizes 


416  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §423. 

the  fact  that  these  concepts  are  unequally  distributed,  some  belonging  to  more  and  others  tc 
fewer  individuals,  and  that  they  therefore  are  a  means  by  which  these  may  be  classed  as  genera 
and  species.  The  process  and  the  product  in  the  second  case,  both  imply  and  are  built  upon 
the  process  and  product  in  the  first.  In  the  first,  we  bring  the  individual  under  the  general, 
by  the  direct  act  of  forming  the  general  from  the  individual  in  the  way  described.  We  know 
the  individual  under  this  concept  or  general  name.  In  the  second,  we  perform  the  reflex  act 
of  taking  the  general  to  divide  all  the  individuals  to  which  it  belongs  into  their  classes  as 
higher  or  lower.  The  relation  thereby  established  in  the  concept  itself  is  both  accidental  and 
variable,  according  to  the  use  to  which  it  is  put  in  classification.  The  same  concept  may  be 
generic,  specific,  differential,  propriate,  or  accidental,  according  to  the  material  to  which,  and 
the  use  in  which  it  is  applied. 

it  is  applied  to    §  422.    7.  "Whenever  the   mind  uses  a  general  term  intelli- 

an  object  on  the  .  ,  -,  1  ,  ,  .   , 

ground  of  its  im-  gently,  it  must  understand  or  conceive  the  import  which 
belongs  to  it  in  some  or  all  of  the  particulars  which  we  have 
enumerated.  We  do  not  intend  that  the  mind  consciously  distinguishes 
and  dwells  upon  each  of  these  relations,  but  that,  in  forming  and  apply- 
ing such  terms,  it  must  have  recognized  and  thought  of  them  all.  The 
question  in  dispute  between  the  different  parties  is,  what  object  the  mind 
thinks  of  or  has  before  itself  when  it  uses  general  terms.  Our  previous 
analysis  has,  we  think,  established  that  it  thinks  of  all  these  thought- 
relations,  and  that  they  all  enter  into  the  distinctive  import  or  meaning 
of  the  concept  as  such.  If  this  is  what  the  conceptualist  contends  for 
when  he  asserts  that  the  mind  must  think,  form,  and  have  a  concept  of 
these  generalized  attributes,  as  often  as  it  employs  a  general  term,  he  is 
so  far  in  the  right.  If  the  nominalist  contends  that  the  concept  is  only 
a  general  name  —  i.  e.,  a  name  which  the  mind  applies  to  many  objects  — 
he  is  manifestly  in  the  wrong.  What  the  mind  considers,  is  not  the  name, 
but  the  meaning  or  import  of  the  name. 

It  is  the  name  as  applicable  —  that  is,  as  for  some  reason  or  other  proper  to  be  applied. 
It  is  the  name  as  general  —  that  is,  the  name  with  an  import.  If  it  be  granted  that  not  a 
single  element  of  this  import  could  be  discerned  without  the  aid  of  the  name  —  i.  e.,  without 
the  instrumentality  of  language  —  still  it  is  not  the  name  as  such,  but  the  name  as  enabling  us 
to  conceive  of  the  relation,  that  renders  the  aid  which  we  seek  for. 


The  im  ort  is  §  ^3.  ^'  '^Qe  mm^  cannot  conceive  or  acquire  knowledge 
SlivfdiSs  by  °^  *ne  'mP°r^  °f  any  concept,  except  ly  means  of  some 
individual  example  of  the  qualities  or  relations  which  it 
includes.  We  cannot  know  what  single  sensible  attributes  signify,  as 
red,  sweet,  smooth,  etc.,  without  the  actual  experience  of  the  sensation 
which  each  occasions,  or  of  one  that  is  analogous.  So  is  it  with  the  con- 
cepts of  simple  acts  and  states  of  the  soul,  as  to  perceive,  to  imagine, 
to  love,  to  choose.  The  same  is  true  of  the  concepts  that  are  clearly 
complex,  as  house,  tent,  knife,  tree,  horse,  meadow,  mountain,  valley,  town- 
ship,  legislature,  authority,  wealth,  value,  rent,  wages,  feudalism,  civil 
ization.  Of  all  these  concepts,  the  elements  must  first  have  been  made 
intelligible  to  the  mind  by  their  application  —  i.  e.,  by  being  observed, 


§424.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. CONCLUSIONS  FROM   THEORIES.  417 

experienced,  or  thought,  in  some  individual  being  or  agent.  As  we 
enumerate  the  constituents  that  make  up  the  content  of  these  concepts, 
and  ask  ourselves  or  others  what  is  the  meaning  of  each,  we  must  employ 
some  individual  thing  or  act  in  order  to  explain  our  meaning  to  ourselves 
or  to  others.  If  we  cannot  reach  the  individual,  we  must  do  what  is 
next  best — we  must  refer  to  some  being  or  act  which  is  as  nearly  like  it 
as  possible,  This  is  as  true  of  the  so-called  relations  as  it  is  of  qualities. 
Equality,  identity,  height,  depth,  etc.,  can  only  be  understood  by  their 
being  discerned  in  some  individual  thing  or  object — material  or  spiritual, 
as  the  case  may  be. 

But  how  is  it  when  the  meaning  of  the  concept  has  been  already  acquired,  both  in  its 
separate  elements,  and  as  united  into  a  complex  whole  ?  Do  we  then  need  to  go  back  to 
some  concrete  instance,  in  order  to  recall  the  import  of  the  concept,  or  of  the  term  by  which 
it  is  named  ?  We  reply,  that  depends  upon  the  use  to  which  the  knowledge  is  to  be  applied. 
If  the  import  is  not  recalled,  so  far  at  least  as  we  have  occasion  to  know  it,  then  we  must  go 
back  to  some  being  or  thing  in  which  it  is  exemplified.  We  cannot  know  a  quality  or  quali- 
ties, a  relation  or  relations,  except  as  exemplified  in  some  individual  being  or  thing,  for  the 
plain  reason  that  these  have  no  signification  except  as  belonging  to  beings  or  things.  We 
cannot  know  what  red  is,  except  by  the  inspection  of  something  red ;  what  imagining  or 
remembering  are,  except  as  an  individual  spirit  imagines  or  remembers  ;  what  equality,  identity, 
height,  or  depth  are,  except  as  some  object  is  known  as  equal  to  another  or  identical  with 
itself,  or  as  high  or  low  as  compared  with  another. 

8  424.  9.    Every  concept  is  capable  of  being  referred  to  an 

The  concept  can     \ P    _.    .  _       ,     ,.  .     '  ,A  .     ,.    .  ,°    , 

be  referred  to  in-    individual  thing  or  imaqe,  and  every  individual  or  image  can 

dividual  objects.  .  ,     . 

be  thought  into  a  concept. 

This  proposition  reconciles  the  strife  between  the  nominalist  and  the 
conceptualist.  The  nominalist  asserts  that  the  only  ideas  which  we  can 
frame  or  mental  objects  which  we  can  think  of,  are  individual.  Bishop 
Berkeley  insists :  "  The  idea  of  man  that  I  frame  to  myself  must  be 
either  of  a  white,  or  a  black  or  a  tawny,  a  straight  or  a  crooked,  a  tall, 
or  a  low  or  a  middle-sized  man  ;  "  plainly  implying  that  we  can  form  no 
other  thought  of  man,  and  can  by  no  means  go  beyond  such  an  idea  of 
an  individual. 

The  conceptualist,  in  insisting  that  the  concept  must  ignore  and  neglect 
the  individual  and  his  characteristics,  often  entirely  overlooks  the  depend- 
ence of  the  concept  upon  the  image  or  individual  thing  as  the  originator 
or  the  condition  of  its  materials,  and  the  explainer  of  its  import.  Locke 
says,  in  effect,  "  the  general  idea  of  a  triangle  "  "  must  be  neither  oblique, 
nor  rectangle,  neither  equilateral,  equicrural,  nor  scalenon,  but  all  and 
none  of  these  at  once."  "  In  effect  it  is  ...  an  idea  in  which  some 
parts  of  several  different  and  inconsistent  ideas  are  put  together."  It  is 
plain  that  neither  of  these  writers  fully  appreciates  the  relation  of  the  indi- 
vidual to  the  concept,  or  the  relation  of  the  concept  to  the  individual 
Berkeley  does  indeed  say,  "  An  idea,  which,  considered  in  itself,  is  par- 
ticular, becomes  general  by  being  made  to  represent  or  stand  for  all  ether 
27 


418  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  424 

particular  ideas  of  the  same  sort."     But  how  the  individual  can  represent 
particular  ideas,  he  does  not  explain,  and  seems  never  to  have  considered. 

This  thought  brings  the  subject  to  a  distinct  issue,  in  the 
pia?ned?cess  e*~  questions,  '  How  can  one  individual  represent  other  indi- 
viduals ?  or,  How  can  the  individual  explain  and  illustrate 
the  general  ?  or,  How  can  the  image  be  the  occasion  of  the  concept  ?  A 
concept  is  general,  an  image  is  individual,  how  can  you  think  the  one  into 
the  other  ?  '  The  sides  of  every  individual  triangle  must  have  a  definite 
length,  and  the  angles  a  definite  measurement  and  relation.  Every  individ- 
ual man  has  in  like  manner  a  definite  height,  form,  color,  etc.  We  think 
these  into  concepts,  not  by  overlooking  the  individual  relations  of  each, 
but  by  considering  their  likeness  to  other  attributes  in  other  respects — the 
sido.s  and  angles,  not  in  their  individual  relations,  but  simply  as  sides  and 
angles — i.  e.,  as  bounding  a  figure  and  as  being  contained  within  two 
lines.  We  do  not  properly  leave  out  of  view  what  is  individual,  as  the 
color  of  the  man,  his  size,  height,  etc.  In  one  sense  we  keep  these  in 
view,  in  order  to  compare  their  likeness  with  other  colors,  etc.  We  do  not 
so  much  leave  any  thing  out  of  view,  as  we  add  the  new  relations  of  like- 
ness which  the  formation  of  the  concept  involves.  When  we  form  the 
concept  by  the  image,  or  bring  back  the  concept  to  the  image,  we  simply 
view  the  image  in  certain  additional  relations.  An  object  viewed  without 
thought-relations,  is  an  image.  An  image  with  these  relations  added, 
becomes  a  concept.  The  knowledge  which  we  have  of  the  one  is  limited 
and  partial ;  the  knowledge  of  the  other  is  fuller  and  more  complete. 
It  is  true  that,  when  we  think  the  image,  we  give  our  attention  to  fewer 
elements;  but  we  are  not  obliged  to  overlook  or  omit  these  when  we 
regard  others.  Least  of  all  do.  we  introduce  into  the  concept  elements 
that  are  inconsistent  or  incompatible,  and  make — i.  e.,  image — a  triangle 
which  is  neither  rectangular,  acute,  or  obtuse,  as  Locke  asserts  is  neces- 
sary and  as  Berkeley  objects  is  impossible. 

The  fact  is,  that  the  concept  is,  by  its  nature,  a  related  object — i.  e.,  a 
its  very  nature,  thought  related  to  a  being  or  thing.  It  requires  the  image  to  make  it  intel- 
i  aSvidnal.t0  ^  1!giWe  or  complete.  It  supposes  an  image  to  which  it  belongs.  It  is  all  the 

while  seeking  the  individual  from  which  it  was  formed,  and  to  which  it  should 

be  applied. 

The  intimacy  of  its  relation  to  and  its  dependence  upon  the  image  is  implied  by  the  con- 
stant necessity  of  imaging  our  concepts,  or  of  translating  the  same  into  facts  of  sense  or 
consciousness.  Would  we  be  sure  of  the  import  of  a  concept,  we  must  carry  it  or  its 
elements  back  to  their  concrete  original,  or  to  the  picture  of  such  an  original  which  the 
phantasy  can  recall  or  create.  Would  we  be  sure  of  its  truth  or  validity,  we  must  test  our 
theory  or  conjecture,  by  going  back  in  experience  or  imagination  to  the  original  things,  acts, 
or  events  by  which  the  qualities  or  relations  concerned  can  be  validated. 

It  is  curious  and  instructive  to  notice  here,  that  every  man  images  the  con- 
Different  images  cepts  which  he  employs  or  hears  of,  by  examples  that  are  peculiar  to  himself, 
same -concept.  and  which  are  derived  from  his  individual  experience  or  observation.  If  hia 

experience  or  education  is  marked  by  very  striking  peculiarities,  the  concrete 


§  425.    NATUEE  OF  THE  CONCEPT.  —  CONCLUSIONS  FKOM  THEORIES.      4-19 

examples  suggested  by  concepts  and  general  names  will  be  as  peculiar.  An  Esquimaux,  a 
Chinese,  and  a  European,  would  picture  very  different  objects  to  the  imagination,  on  hearing 
or  reading  the  words  state,  legislation,  wealth,  money,  wages,  civilization,  fashion  ;  and  even 
the  more  concrete  terms,  house,  city,  ship,  oar,  sail,  knife,  feast,  procession,  township^ 
meadow.  Two  inhabitants  of  the  same  country,  and  sharing  in  substantially  the  same  expe- 
rience, interpret  the  import  of  the  commonest  and  most  familiar  terms  by  very  different 
instances  or  examples.  And  yet  their  concepts  are  substantially  the  same,  inasmuch  as  their 
more  important  and  essential  attributes  remain  unchanged,  however  greatly  their  individual 
exemplifications  may  differ. 

This  circumstance  explains  how  there  may  be  a  community  of  thoughts,  with  a  very 
diverse  experience.  The  nature  of  things  and  the  nature  of  man  remains  unchanged.  The 
same  powers,  laws,  and  ends  are  perpetually  reappearing,  the  same  principles  are  continually 
illustrated,  under  forms  the  most  unlike. 

If  the  concepts  which  we  ourselves  employ  or  which  others  present  to  out 
ized  concepts  minds,  are  highly  abstract  or  very  complex  in  their  elements,  the  chances  are 
*  greatly  increased  that  an  appropriate  concrete  individual  object  will  not  be 
readily  suggested,  because  it  is  so  many  removes  from  the  attenuated  abstrac- 
tion, or  because,  by  reason  of  the  complexness  of  the  concept,  some  one  element  fails  of 
being  distinctly  represented  or  clearly  discerned.  Hence,  in  those  sciences  which  abound  in 
terms  and  concepts  of  this  description  —  concepts  which  do  not  readily  suggest  individual 
instances  —  illustrations  should  frequently  be  introduced,  in  order  to  keep  both  the  meaning 
of  the  concepts  and  the  evidence  for  their  truth  fully  and  freshly  before  the  mind.  Otherwise, 
the  most  gifted  and  best-trained  student  will  fail  to  follow  the  discussion  with  complete  intelli- 
gence and  hearty  assent.  There  is  danger  that  many  will  be  satisfied  with  a  confused  inter- 
pretation or  a  partial  conviction.  It  may  even  happen  that,  through  lack  of  the  concrete  and 
individual  to  support  the  abstract,  the  mind  will  take  its  revenge  by  turning  the  abstractions  them- 
selves  into  realities  ;  will  personify  them  into  concrete  beings,  and  invest  them  with  the  attribute? 
and  functions  of  powers  or  things  in  nature. 

Such  words  as  the  absolute,  the  infinite,  the  true,  the  beautiful,  the  good,  the  just,  the  equc*. 
—even  such  names  as  heat,  life,  li{/ht,  etc.,  etc.,  are  often  used  as  though  they  were  individual 
and  concrete  entities,  instead  of  requiring  entities  to  realize  and  explain  them.  Through  fre- 
quent repetition  as  sounds,  they  seem  to  be  intelligible  as  things,  and  we  presume  that  our 
mastery  over  their  meaning  is  complete,  when  we  only  very  imperfectly  comprehend  their 
import,  and  are  able  very  inadequately  to  explain  or  apply  them. 

Hobbes  remarks  very  pertinently  (Leviathan,  part  i.  cb.  4),  "A  man  tbat  seeketh  precise  truth  hath 
need  to  remember  what  every  name  he  uses  stands  for,  and  to  place  it  accordingly  ;  or  else  he  will  find 
himself  entangled  in  words  as  birds  in  lime-twigs  ;  the  more  he  struggles,  the  more  belimed."  "For  the 
errors  of  definitions  multiply  themselves,  according  as  the  reckoning  proceeds  ;  and  lead  men  into  absurdi- 
ties which  at  last  they  see,  but  cannot  avoid,  without  reckoning  anew  from  the  beginning,  in  which  lies 
the  foundation  of  their  errors.  From  whence  it  happens,  that  they  which  trust  to  books,  do  as  they  that 
cast  >ip  many  little  sums  into  a  greater,  without  considering  whether  these  little  sums  were  rightly  cast  up 
or  v'ji  ,  and  at  last,  finding  the  error  visible,  and  not  mistrusting  their  first  ground,  know  not  which  way 
to  -ile?>r  themselves  ;  but  spend  time  in  fluttering  over  their  books,  as  birds  that  entering  by  the  chimney, 
and  finding  themselves  inclosed  in  a  chamber,  flutter  at  the  false  light  of  a  glass  window,  for  want  of  wit 
to  consider  which  way  they  came  in."  "  As  men  abound  in  copiousness  of  language,  so  they  become  more 
wise  or  more  mad  than  ordinary.  Nor  is  it  possible  without  letters  to  become  excellently  wise  or  excel- 
lently foolish." 

§  425.    10.  When  the  concept  is  furnished  with  a  name,  the 
aided  °by    the    mind  is  gradually  accustomed  to  interpose  the  verbal  sign 


between  the  concepts  and  the  individual  beings  and  events 
vhich    exemplify   and   illustrate    them.      In  this   way  the 


420  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §425, 

processes  of  the  mind  are  greatly  facilitated,  and  the  attainments  of  the 
mind  are  enlarged  and  rendered  more  permanent. 

How  it  is  that  the  mind  is  qualified,  prompted,  aid  taught  to  use  language,  we  need  not 
here  inquire.  We  hare  only  to  recognize  the  service  which  the  use  of  language  renders  to 
our  thinking  in  general,  and  in  the  formation  and  use  of  concepts  in  particular.  We  scarcely 
need  remark,  that  the  name  may  be  either  a  spoken  or  written  word.  It  may  even  be  a 
descriptive  or  arbitrary  gesture  or  sign.  It  may  be  the  name  of  a  being,  an  act,  an  attribute. 
or  a  relation,  or  of  some  or  all  combined  in  a  term  or  proposition.  The  reasons  why  language 
aids  our  thinking  are  the  following : 

(a.)  The  name  is  both  a  sensuous  and  an  individual  object. 
-  It  presents  to  our  sense-perceptions  a  definite  object,  which 

we  can  readily  evoke,  distinctly  apprehend,  and  easily  and 
unmistakably  repeat.  What  it  represents,  is  indeed  abstract  and  general, 
but  the  name  itself  is  an  individual  object  of  sense-perception. 

Were  it  possible  for  the  mind  to  gain  and  hold  a  concept  not  connected  with  a  sense- 
object,  it  would  not  rest  content,  but  would  cast  about  in  order  to  find  some  such  concrete 
object  to  which  to  attach  it.  If  a  sensuous  word  has  been  associated  with  the  abstract  con- 
cept, such  an  object  at  once  presents  itself  far  more  quickly,  perhaps,  than  any  of  the  many 
things  or  images  by  which  the  abstract  might  be  imaged. 

The  word  addresses  a  single  sense,  the  ear  or  the  eye  singly,  or  the  two  combined.  In 
either  case  it  is  ready  to  appear  when  called  for.  The  winged  word  flies  to  our  aid,  and  the 
ghostly  product  of  thought  is  at  once  embodied  before  the  senses. 

(#.)  The  word  is  the  sign,  not  of  the  whole  of  the  individual 

It  is  a  sign  of  a      v     ' 

part  of  the  reia-    thing  or  being  which  might  image  or  exemplify  the  concept, 

lions  of  the  indi-  °.  .    c  ^~ 

viduai.  but  oi   a  portion  oi   its   attributes  or   relations.     In  conse- 

quence, words  present  a  greater  variety  and  refinement  of  objects  than 
exist  in  the  world  of  nature.  The  words  red,  fruit,  acid-fruit,  currant, 
cherry-currant,  may  all  be  imaged  or  exemplified  by  the  same  sense-object, 
viz.,  the  fruit  before  us.  Red  stands  for  a  single  one  of  its  properties ; 
fruit,  for  several ;  red  fruit,  for  yet  others ;  currant,  for  more ;  and 
cherry-currant,  for  even  more.  So  the  words  company,  an  organized 
company,  and  a  legislature,  may  all  be  illustrated  by  the  same  body  of 
individuals  which  the  senses  discern,  while  each  of  the  words  represents 
more  or  fewer  of  their  attributes  or  relations. 

These  attributes  are  present  in  a  vast  variety  of  single  objects,  themselves  most  unlike  in 
every  other  respect.  These  attributes  and  relations  are  the  special  objects  of  the  mind's  con- 
sideration aud  pursuit  in  the  exercise  of  its  higher  functions.  The  gain  is  immense  which  is 
secured  when  each  can  be  attached  to  its  single  sensuous  name,  and  can  thus  be  distinctly 
pictured  to  the  imagination,  recalled  by  the  memory,  and  separated  from  all  its  accidental 
surroundings,  leaving  the  mind  undistracted  by  attendant  circumstances.  Each  attribute  is 
thus  definitely  fixed  in  the  mind  and  retained  as  a  permanent  possession.  It  may,  perhaps,  have 
been  discovered  by  very  careful  and  earnest  attention,  or  separated  by  the  nicest  and  most 
pains-taking  analysis,  or  evolved  and  suggested  by  another  property  as  remote  or  obscure  as 
itself ;  but  if,  as  soon  as  it  is  evolved,  it  is  enshrined  in  a  word,  sensuous,  brief,  easily  mas- 
tered, recognized!  and  recalled,  this  obscure  and  entangled  property,  which  might  have  been 


g  425.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. CONCLUSIONS   FKOM  THEORIES.  421 

overlooked  at  a  second  view  of  the  object  which  suggested  it,  cannot  easily  sink  back  agaia 
out  of  thought  or  reiaemorance. 

To  fix  and  represent  every  attribute  by  a  word,  is  also  necessary  for  the  service  of  com, 
munioation  which  language  performs.  Another  mind  could  not  be  brought  to  direct  its  atten- 
tion to  the  attribute  and  property  which  we  with  difficulty  discern,  unless  the  attribute  were 
represented  by  a  name.  This,  however,  does  not  weaken,  but  rather  confirms  its  service  to 
thought,  in  rendering  its  acquisitions  permanent  and  ready  for  use. 

Names  prepare    (c.)    Names    enable  us  to   add  to   our    stock   of   logically 
ttonJ^Mid  d2l    dependent  concepts.     One  concept  is  dependent  upon  and 
grows  out  of  another.     To  form  one  concept,  prepares  us  to 
form  another,  and  is  often  the  essential  condition  of  its  existence. 

The  second  is  often  entirely  dependent  upon  the  first  by  a  logical  and  psychological  con- 
nection. Unless  the  first  is  clearly  discerned  and  firmly  held,  the  second  cannot  possibly  be 
reached.  The  name  sets  it  distinctly  and  permanently  before  the  mind,  and  enables  us  to 
make  of  it  a  stepping-stone  to  the  next  acquisition,  which  without  the  name  would  have  been 
unattainable. 

Names  suggest  (<%•)  Names  aid  most  efficiently  in  rapid  thinking,  by  sparing 
us  the  necessity  of  dwelling  on  the  entire  import  of  the 
word  itself.  Though  the  name  usually  represents  a  complex 
concept,  and  the  concept  to  be  understood  must  be  illustrated  by  some 
concrete  example,  yet  the  mind  may  use  names  intelligently  without 
pausing  to  apprehend  more  than  a  small  portion  of  their  meaning.  In 
conversation  or  quick  discourse,  as  well  as  in  reading  by  the  eye,  only 
enough  of  this  import  is  perceived  to  satisfy  the  present  occasion — all 
else  is  omitted.  Even  whole  sentences,  when  they  are  familiar,  are  re- 
ceived as  the  sign  of  a  single  concept  or  relation,  viz. :  that  which  the 
present  occasion  requires. 

This  can  only  happen  when  the  language  is  familiar  to  the  eye  and  the  ear,  so  that,  as  the 
eye  and  the  ear  each  catch  enough  to  identify  the  word  or  phrase,  the  mind  also  catches 
enough  of  the  import  to  satisfy  the  present  occasion.  Were  not  the  words  addressed  to  the 
senses,  and  capable  of  rapid  formation  and  reception,  they  could  not  serve  this  rapid  applica- 
tion. Without  the  assistance  of  names,  such  a  partial  apprehension  of  the  import  of  so  great 
a  variety  of  generalized  attributes  would  be  impossible.  It  is  true,  the  quick  eye  of  the  hunts- 
man, the  engineer,  or  the  physiognomist,  can  read  signs  with  a  rapid  and  almost  lightning 
glance,  and  thus  without  words  apply  the  generalizations  of  previous  observation.  But  their 
range  of  objects  and  relations  is  limited  when  compared  with  the  generalizations  to  which 
language  accustoms  the  mind.  So  wonderful  is  the  power  of  words  to  facilitate  the  processes 
of  thought,  that  names  seem  almost  to  become  beings,  and  to  attain  an  independent  and  sepa- 
rate existence  of  their  own ;  and  the  world  of  words  takes  its  place  side  by  side  with  the  world 
of  things :  cf.  Leibnitz,  Med.  de  cog.  ver.  et  ideis  ;  also  Hamilton,  Logic,  Lee.  10 ;  J.  S.  Mill, 
Exam,  of  Ham.'s  Phil.,  chap.  xvli. ;  H.  L.  Mansel,  Prol.Log.,  chap.  i. ;  Burke,  Essay  on  the 
Sublime  and  Beautiful,  part  v. 

Experience  de-    /e\  Experience  teaches  that,  without  the  aid  of  names,  the 

tnonstratee    the      ^    '  r  ' 

of  i  a^n-    mind  makes  little  progress  in  forming  or  applying  its  con 
it.  cepts.     The  use  of  language,  and  of  spoken  language  even, 


422  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  420 

is  found  to  be  almost  essential  to  successful  thought.  Without  language 
the  discriminations  of  attributes  are  few,  the  genera_izations  are  narrow 
and  limited,  the  power  to  enter  into  and  receive  the  thoughts  of  others 
ie  almost  dormant. 

Many  have  gone  so  far  as  to  conclude  that,  without  words — i.  e.,  names — we  cannot  think 
at  all.  Experience  with  deaf-mutes,  who  have  acquired  little  even  of  the  language  of  signs, 
disproves  this  extreme  conclusion.  These  show,  by  their  actions,  that  they  generalize — i.  e., 
form  concepts — to  a  limited  extent.  They  classify  and  arrange  observations,  they  analyze  and 
compare  attributes,  they  apply  principles  in  deduction  and  infer  them  from  data.  But  while 
they  show  that  it  is  not  impossible  to  think  without  names,  they  also  prove  most  conclusively 
that,  without  such  aid,  it  is  impossible  to  think  with  much  effect.  As  soon  as  they  learn  to 
form  and  use  names  by  the  mastery  of  signs  and  written  language,  their  power  of  thought  is 
greatly  quickened,  and  their  stock  of  concepts  is  rapidly  increased.  But  the  language  of  the 
eye  alone,  which  is  the  only  language  at  their  command,  is  immeasurably  below  the  language 
of  the  ear  in  the  fineness  and  variety  of  its  material,  as  well  as  in  its  capacity  for  ready  assimi- 
lation and  recall.  Still,  the  surprising  acquisitions  made  by  deaf-mutes,  in  spite  of  all  the 
disadvantages  under  which  they  suffer,  are  a  signal  proof  that  the  mind  is  not  restricted  to 
any  one  kind  of  material  out  of  which  to  form  for  itself  a  language  ;  that  words,  in  whatever 
form,  are  only  the  signs  of  thought,  and  are  not  essential  to  thought  itself. 

This     ex  lains    These  facts  all  explain  how  and  why  the  nominalist  was  led 
the  no°mtbiaUst)f    *°  a(^oP*  ^ne  opinion  that  there  is  nothing  in  the  universe 
but  beings  and  names,  and  that  the  only  generals  or  univer- 
sals  conceivable  are  names. 

The  concept  without  the  name  is  almost  as  though  it  were  not.  It  has  no  effective  exist- 
ence. It  can  be  retained  and  recalled  and  used  only  to  a  limited  extent.  The  number  of  con- 
cepts that  can  be  formed  without  words  is  small.  The  number  that  can  be  communicated  even 
by  the  language  of  signs  is  inconsiderable,  and  these  are  of  little  service  in  the  higher  devel- 
opments and  functions  of  the  mind. 

This  very  analysis  of  the  relation  of  the  name  to  the  thing. 

It    proves    also  J  J 

that  the  name    however,  proves  as  decisively  that  the  name  can  be  formed 

requires  a  con-  r     .  J 

cept.  from  or  applied  to  the  being  or  thing,  only  as  it  represents  a 

concept,  and  that  the  concept  furnishes  all  the  import  which  the  word  can 
ever  represent  or  possess. 

If  it  should  be  conceded  that  not  a  single  concept  was  ever  formed  without  a  name,  it 
would  still  be  true  that  the  word  could  neither  exist  nor  be  applied  to  an  individual  thing  ex- 
cept as  a  concept  was  also  generalized  into  being.  If  the  word  is  the  body  of  which  the  con« 
cept  is  the  soul,  the  concept  may  still  be  as  essential  to  the  existence  of  the  name  as  the  soul 
is  to  the  conception  or  reality  of  the  body.  Except  as  representing  the  concept,  the  name  is 
an  irrational  sound,  an  insignificant  mark  or  series  of  characters.  It  cannot  signify  a  thing, 
except  as  it  stands  for  its  generalized  attributes  and  relations,  and  these  are  a  concept. 

8  426.  11.    The  realist  asserts  for  the  concept  a  still  higher 

The   truth  rep-     °  .... 

resented  by  re-    import  and  use.     The  truth  which  is  the  basis  of  his  theory 

is,  that  every  real  concept  should  suggest  or  express  some 

one  or  more  of  the  essential  properties  and  unchanging  laws  of  individual 


§426.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. CONCLUSIONS  FROM   THEORIES.  423 

beings.  He  is  not  content  with  the  view  of  the  nominalist,  which  make* 
the  general  term  a  mere  class-name  for  the  simple  convenience  of  language, 
nor  with  the  view  of  the  conceptualist,  who  regards  the  concept  as  a  chance- 
assemblage  of  attributes.  He  insists  that  the  concept  ought  to  signify 
and  represent  the  most  important  of  all  descriptions  of  knowledge,  the 
knowledge  of  that  which  is  permanent  and  universal.  This  is  the  truth 
that  has  given  currency  and  influence  to  the  realistic  theory,  though  this 
theory  has  often  been  expressed  in  extravagant  and  metaphorical  Ian 
guage,  and  been  defended  by  insufficient  arguments. 

All  individual  objects  of  nature  have  their  essential  elements.  These 
exist  under  constant  conditions,  and  are  produced  by  permanent  forces, 
according  to  fixed  laws  and  ends.  The  constituents,  conditions,  causes, 
laws,  and  ends  of  individual  objects  are  often  called  their  inner  truth, 
their  essential  nature,  their  true  meaning,  their  real  and  permanent  being. 

The  individual  mass  of  earth  or  ore,  the  single  crystal,  leaf,  herb,  tree,  fish, 
Accidental  prop-  bird,  reptile,  quadruped,  and  man,  have  accidental  relations  of  position,  form, 
size,  color,  or  taste ;  they  exist  here  or  there  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period  of 
time,  but  these  relations  are  of  little  or  no  importance  for  many  of  the  higher 
ends  of  knowledge  and  of  practice.  They  are  observed  by  one  and  another,  they  interest  more 
or  fewer  persons,  they  differ  in  a  greater  variety  of  inferior  and  accidental  features.  Thekind, 
the  class,  the  genus  and  species,  have  certain  common  characteristics  which  are  known  to  all, 
and  which  indicate  many  others  which  are  also  of  wide  and  deep  significance.  These  are  every- 
where present.  They  are  constantly  perpetuated  by  the  reproduction  of  the  individual,  and 
they  can  never  fail.  Their  place  in  the  universe  is  never  vacant,  and  their  importance  in  that 
economy  by  which  the  designs  of  nature  are  constantly  accomplished  is  always  the  same.  It 
is  to  reach  the  knowledge  of  these  elements,  causes,  laws,  and  designs,  that  concepts  are  formed, 
classes  are  arranged,  and  names  are  given.  As  we  have  seen  already,  many  of  the  earliest 
classifications  and  concepts  are  rude  and  unsatisfactory  for  scientific  purposes,  because  they 
are  founded  upon  attributes  that  are  superficial  and  narrow  in  their  significance  and  indicate 
few  or  none  of  the  permanent  elements  and  laws  of  being.  These  are  gradually  outgrown  and 
displaced  by  others  which  are  discovered  to  suggest  more  comprehensive  agencies  and  more 
pervading  laws. 

On  the  other  hand,  there  are  certain  classifications  and  con- 

Permanent  clas-  , 

eifications    and    cepts  which,  though  formed  very  early,  are  never  laid  aside, 

soncepts.  *  J ' . 

because,  though  the  attributes  are  obvious  and  even  obtru- 
sive, they  coincide  with  the  results  of  the  nicest  analysis  and  the  most 
penetrating  insight.  Such  are  the  concepts  that  are  formed  of  the  dif- 
ferent species  of  animal  and  vegetable  being,  each  one  of  which  indicates 
and  expresses  many  qualities  and  laws  which  science  as  yet  has  been 
unable  adequately  to  discover  and  resolve. 

No  better  illustration  can  be  adduced  of  the  differing  import  of  different 
The  classifies  kinds  of  concepts  and  classes,  than  is  furnished  by  the  history  of  botany, 
tions  of  Botany.  Lmngeus  hit  upon  the  convenient  expedient  of  classing  the  different  individual 

plants  by  the  number  of  the  stamina  that  appear  in  their  flowers.  The 
classes  were  subdivided  into  orders  by  the  number  of  pistils.  The  device  was  convenient,  be- 
cause all  plants  have  flowers,  and  the  number  cf  the  stamens  and  pistils  is  in  most  cases  con 


424  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  426. 

Btant,  and  presents  a  ready  means  for  their  division  and  subdivision  into  classes.  To  a  certain 
extent  this  division  meant  or  signified  something.  The  number  of  stamens  and  pistils,  in  some 
cases  was  found  to  indicate  other  common  characteristics  of  some  importance,  and  seemed  to 
point  to  deeper  qualities  and  laws.  But  this  was  by  no  means  universally  the  case.  The 
classes  and  orders  that  were  founded  upon  the  number  of  these  organs,  were  concepts  that 
interested  no  one,  because  they  signified  nothing  in  respect  to  the  structure  or  the  germina- 
tion, the  growth  or  the  habits,  the  flower  or  the  fruit,  and  it  was  abandoned  for  another  sys- 
tem of  classes  and  nomenclature,  which  was  founded  on  indications  of  greater  practical  and 
scientific  significance. 


The  name  usual-  imPortance  that  ™  attached  to  the  act  of  assigning  an 

iy   signifies    a    individual  to  a  class,  and  the  giving  it  a  name,  can  only  be 

permanent   and  '  •» 

important  thing,  explained  by  the  underlying  assumption  not  consciously 
developed  or  expressed  by  the  great  mass  of  men  but  still  tenaciously 
adhered  to,  that  if  we  can  class  and  name  an  object,  we  are  in  the  way 
of  learning  something  more  in  regard  to  its  nature  and  laws. 

The  child  is  in  a  measure  satisfied  to  learn  the  name  of  an  object;  and  when  an  unob- 
served feature  of  likeness  with  another  is  indicated,  it  seems  to  see  in  this  a  clue  to  some  new 
discovery.  Starting  upon  this  quest,  it  forms  and  changes  its  concepts  and  classes,  till  it 
reaches  those  which  in  some  degree  answer  to  the  principles  and  laws  which  scientific  knowl- 
edge unfolds. 


t  concepts  ^e  representation  by  our  concepts  of  these  permanent  and 
thtUttin*?s  scientific  relations  of  individual  things  is  what  the  realists 

Bought    by   the 

realist.  of  all  ages  and  all  schools  have  had  in  view,  more  or  less 

distinctly  indeed,  when  they  contended  that  every  real  concept  had  a 
permanent  and  undying  existence  in  nature  ;  that  to  every  general  notion 
or  universal,  there  was  a  real  and  permanent  essence,  of  which  every  in- 
dividual shared  a  portion;  and  that  the  participation  of  this  essence 
made  the  individual  to  be  what  it  is  in  its  divinest,  and  most  important 
elements. 

This  general  truth  has  been  expressed  in  a  great  variety  of  phrases,  many  of  them  poetic 
and  figurative,  the  use  of  which  in  philosophy  in  their  literal  acceptation,  has  wrought  nc 
little  error  and  confusion  of  thought.  This  poetic  and  over-statement  has  in  its  turn  given 
rise  to  an  injurious  reaction,  in  the  form  of  a  corresponding  external  and  superficial  theory 
of  the  importance  of  concepts,  classification,  and  naming. 

The  mistakes  of  the  realists  have  been  twofold.  They  have. 
The  mistakes  of  both  in  language  and  thought,  confounded  the  subjective 

concept,  which  is  a  purely  psychological  product,  with  its 
objective  correlate  —  the  related  elements  which  it  represents  or  indicates  ; 
and  have  often  called  both  by  the  same  name,  and  invested  them  with 
the  same  properties.  They  have  used  a  highly  metaphoric  terminology 
to  express  the  nature  of  universals,  and  their  relations  to  individual  beings. 

The  ideas  of  Plato  and  the  Platonists,  present  from  eternity  in  the  Divine  mind  ;  the 
firms  of  the  Aristotelian,  incapable  of  existing  apart  from  matter,  yet  essential  to  erery 
material  th'.ng  and  species  ;  the  substantial  and  essential  forms  of  the  schoolmen,  as  well  a/ 


g  426.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. CONCLUSIONS   FROM  THEORIES.  425 

their  universals  ante  rem  and  a  parte  rei;  the/orms  and  ideas  of  Kant;  the  notion  of  Hegel, 
self-moving  from  the  empty  yet  posited  nothing,  and  self-developed  by  constant  growth  into  all 
the  fulness  of  the  id^a,  with  the  power  claimed  for  this  notion  to  pass  into  the  objective,  giv- 
ing the  world  of  material  being,  and  then  to  return  to  itself  so  as  by  self-conscious  affirrna- 
iion  and  distinction  to  blossom  into  spirit  and  thus  complete  the  circle  of  absolute  knowledge; 
— all  these  are  examples  of  the  exaggerations  and  personifications  of  realism  in  its  endeavors 
to  express  a  most  important  truth.  This  truth  has  already  been  explained.  The  concept, 
viewed  as  a  subjective  product  of  the  mind's  activity,  consists  of  one  or  more  logically  compati- 
ble attributes.  Any  attribute  can  constitute  or  enter  into  a  concept  as  thus  conceived,  and  make 
up  its  essence— i.  e.,  its  nominal  or  logical  essence  ;  for  the  logical  essence  is  nothing  but  its 
constituent  attributes  (§  393).  We  can  form  as  many  concepts,  each  with  its  own  essence,  as 
the  laws  of  arithmetical  combination  will  allow,  and  assign  each  to  as  many  places  in  a  system. 
But  when  we  take  our  concepts  from  or  apply  them  to  individual  beings  or  things,  we  find 
that  the  concept  has  another  meaning  and  importance.  The  question  which  then  arises  is, 
What  does  the  concept  signify  of  things,  their  powers,  causes,  laws,  and  ends  ?  We  are  then 
obliged  to  consider,  not  the  essence  of  the  concept  as  a  logical  fiction,  but  its  relation  to  the 
most  important  properties  and  laws  of  individual  and  actual  beings  as  viewed  in  their  essential 
or  scientific  relations. 

We  may  concede  that  the  conceptualist,  and  even  the  nominalist,  are  in  the  right  when 
they  explain  the  import  and  meaning  of  the  concept  and  the  name,  so  far  as  they  are  viewed 
as  subjective  creations  of  the  mind,  or  so  far  as  their  office  is  concerned  in  defining  and  dis- 
tinguishing groups  of  things,  and  yet  contend  that  they  are  entirely  wrong  in  overlooking  what 
of  deeper  import  they  represent  in  the  things  which  they  arrange,  and  in  failing  to  see  that 
naming  and  classification  look  to  something  higher. 

That  they  cannot  wholly  overlook  these  higher  relations  is  clear  from  important  passages  in  Locke  and 
J.  Stuart  Mill.  In  a  most  important  chapter  of  the  Essay  of  Locke,  in  which  he  contends  at  great  length 
for  the  wholly  subjective  character  of  the  concept  and  its  nominal  essence,  he  observes,  that  there  is  also  a 
real  essence,  viz.,  "  that  real  constitution  of  any  thing  which  is  the  foundation  of  all  those  properties  that 
are  combined  in  and  are  constantly  found  to  coexist  with  the  nominal  essence  ;  that  particular  constitution 
which  every  thing  has  within  itself,  without  any  relation  to  any  thing  without  it."  Essay,  B.  iii.  ch.  vi.  §  6. 

John  Sfcuart  Mill  also  writes  in  the  vein  of  an  ultra-nominalist : 

"  It  is  a  fundamental  principle  in  logic,  that  the  power  of  framing  classes  is  unlimited,  as  long  as  there 

is  any  (even  the  smallest)  difference  to  found  a  distinction  upon The  number  of  possible  classes, 

therefore,  is  boundless ;  and  there  are  as  many  actual  classes  (either  of  real  or  imaginary  things)  as  there 
are  general  names,  positive  and  negative  together." 

But  among  these  classes  he  recognizes  important  differences — as  between  the  class  animal  or  plant,  or 
the  class  sulphur  or  phosphorus  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  class  white  or  red  on  the  other— in  that  the 
things  covered  by  the  one  differ  only  in  certain  particulars  which  may  be  numbered,  "while  others  differ 
in  more  than  can  be  numbered,  more,  even  than  we  need  ever  expect  to  know."  "White  things,  for  ex- 
ample, are  not  distinguished  by  any  common  properties  except  whiteness  ;  or,  if  they  are,  it  is  only  by  such 
as  are  in  some  way  dependent  upon  or  connected  with,  whiteness.  But  a  hundred  generations  have  not 
exhausted  the  common  properties  of  animals  or  of  plants,  of  sulphur  or  phosphorus;  nor  do  we  suppose 
them  to  lie  exhaustible,  but  proceed  to  new  observations  and  experiments,  in  the  full  confidence  of  discover- 
ing new  properties  which  were  by  no  means  implied  in  those  we  previously  knew."  "There  is  no  impro- 
priety in  saying,  th;it  of  these  two  classifications,  the  one  answers  to  much  more  radical  distinction  in  the 
things  themselves,  than  the  other  does."  "  Now  these  classes,  distinguished  by  unknown  multitudes  of 
properties,  and  not  solely  by  a  few  determinate  ones,  are  the  only  classes  which,  by  the  Aristotelian  logi- 
cians, were  considered  as  genera  and  species."  System  of  Logic,  etc.,  B.  iii.  c.  vi.  §  6. 

The  careful  student  and  critic  will  see,  that  in  these  remarks,  this  ultra-nominalist  asserts  the  whole 
truth  which  was  at  the  basis  of  the  Xealistic  theory.  The  only  defect  which  is  fairly  chargeable  upon  him 
is,  that  he  fails  to  ask  and  to  answer  the  ruestion,  What  is  the  reason  why,  in  the  one  kind  of  classes,  we 
believe  that  an  inex7iaustible  number  of  properties  mutually  dependent  are  signified,  while  m  the  other  no 
such  properties  are  looked  for  ?  According  to  his  philosophical  principles,  he  would  be  able  to  give  no  other 
answer,  than,  that  experience  teaches  us  that  we  find  this  true  of  certain  classes  and  not  of  others.  But 
experience,  if  it  would  teach  that  some  characteristics  indicate  in  fact  a  greater  number  of  accom- 


426  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §427 

panying  proper  ies,  would  certainly  not  authorize  the  confident  inference  that  many  more  Aat  are  as  ye 
undiscovered,  i.  «.,  as  yet  unexperienced,  remain.  "While,  then,  Mill  asserts  the  fact  that  justifies  and  ex- 
plains a  candid  interpretation  of  Kealism,  he  shows  himself  entirely  incompetent  to  explain  the  fact  which 
he  concedes,  or  our  belief  in  it.  For  this  his  philosophy  is  neither  sufficiently  profound  nor  liberal. 

Are  there  er  This  subject  has,  of  late,  assumed  a  very  great  interest  and 
Sid  ^ecies^in  imP°rtance  among  naturalists,  in  connection  with  the  ques- 


tion  of  the  permanence  of  species  in  the  natural  and  vegeta- 
ble kingdoms.  Certain  naturalists  contend  that  none  of  the  so-called 
species  are  permanent,  either  in  the  plan  of  nature,  or  its  actual  divi- 
sions ;  that  every  one  of  them  has  been  developed  by  evolution  from 
previously  existing  types,  which  owed  their  form  and  apparent  per- 
manence to  certain  conditions  or  laws  that  were  but  temporary  in  their 
action  and  transitory  in  their  results.  In  this  way  Darwin,  (  Origin  of 
Species,  etc.,)  Huxley,  and  others,  reason  from  certain  varieties  produced 
within  species,  that  all  species  existing  at  present,  have  been  themselves 
developed.  Herbert  Spencer,  by  a  broader  application  of  the  same 
general  assumption,  makes  every  type  of  existence,  both  material  and 
spiritual,  to  have  been  developed  from  lower  forms,  which  are  held  in 
being  till  forms  still  higher  and  more  exalted  shall  displace  them.  On 
the  other  hand,  Owen,  Agassiz,  and  Dana  find  that  the  classifications  of 
science  must  assume  a  more  permanent  and  firmer  foundation  for  the 
species  which  they  accept,  in  the  action  of  permanent  forces  after  the  fixed 
types  that  are  contemplated  in  the  unchanging  plan  and  the  manifested 
thoughts  of  God.  In  this  assumption  they  reach  the  scientific  truth  of 
the  bold  metaphors  of  Plato,  who  taught  that  by  definition  and  division, 
we  find  in  the  temporary  and  phenomenal  the  eternal  and  real  ideas 
which  exist  in  unsoiled  and  unalloyed  purity  in  the  mind  of  the  Deity  alone. 
(Cf.  Agassiz,  Essay  on  Classification.) 

The  relation  of    §  427.  12.  The  analysis  which  has  been  given  of  the  nature 
symbolic  to  in-    of  ^ne  COncept  and  its  relations  to  the  individual  obiect  or 

tuitive    knowl-  *  •> 

edse-  image,  explains  more  exactly  the  relation  of  what  is  called 

symbolic,  mediate,  or  logical  knowledge,  to  that  which  is  intuitive,  imme- 
diate and  experimental. 

We  have  already  spoken  of  this  distinction  in  a  general  way  (§  383). 
We  return  to  it  again,  for  the  sake  of  greater  exactness.  Knowledge  by 
concepts  is  symbolic,  mediate  and  logical.  Knowledge  by  direct  appre- 
hension, whether  in  connection  with  consciousness  or  perception,  is  called 
intuitive. 

When  I  perceive  a  sense-object,  as  a  man,  a  house,  or  tree,  or  am  conscious  of  an  indivi- 
dual state  of  spiritual  activity,  or  discern  with  the  mind's  eye  a  mathematical  figure,  I  know 
intuitively  each  of  these  objects.  When  I  recognize  either  as  belonging  to  a  class,  or  give  to 
either  a  name,  I  am  said  to  know  it  by  means  of  the  concept  or  name  ;  and  these  concepts  or 
names  are  said  to  be  media  or  symbols,  which  I  employ  in  knowing.  This  distinction,  as  thus 
stated,  originated  with  Leibnitz,  and  much  has  been  made  of  it  by  later  thinkers,  as  Kant  and 
Other  German  philosophers,  as  also  by  Hamilton,  Mansel,  and  Morell  among  the  English  Thia 


§  427.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT. — CONCLUSIONS  FROM    THEORIES.  421 

passage  has  so  great  an  historical  importance  that  we  transcribe  U  at  length.  Mill,  in  hifl 
examination  of  Hamilton's  Philosophy  contends  that  it  relates  to  words  as  symbols,  and  not  tc 
symbolic  concepts.  A  closer  examination  will  show  that  both  are  included  in  the  author'3 
meaning.  See  above,  §  425.  10.  (</.) 

Plerumque  autem,  prsesertim  in  analysi  longiore,  non  totam  simul  naturam  rei  intuemur,  sed  rerum 
loco  signis  utimur,  quorum  explicationem  in  prsesenti  aliqua  cogitations  compendii  causa  solemus  rjeeter- 
inittere,  scientes,  aut  credentes  nos  earn  habere  in  potestate  :  ita  cum  chiliogonum  sea  polygonum  mille 
eequalium  latemm  cogito,  non  semper  naturam  lateris,  et  sequalitatis,  et  millenarii  (seucuM  a  denario)con- 
Bidero,  sed  vocabulis  istis  (quorum  sensus  obscure  saltern,  atque  imperfecte  menti  obversatur)  in  animo 
utor  loco  idearum,  quas  de  iis  habeo,  quoniam  memini  me  significationem  istorum  vocabulorum  habere 
explicationem  autem  nuncjudico  necessariam  non  ease;  qualem  cogitationem  csecam,  vel etiam  symboll- 
oam  appellare  soleo,  qua  et  in  Algebra  et  in  Arithmetica  utimur,  imo  fere  ubique.  Et  certe  cum  notic 
valde  composite  est,  non  possumus  omnes  ingredientes  earn  notiones  simul  cogitari  :  ubi  tamen  hoc  licet, 
vel  saltern  in  quantum  licet,  cognitionem  voco  inluitivam.  Notionis  distinctae  primitivse  non  alia  da  tut 
cognitio,  quam  intuitiva,  ut  compositarum  plerumque  cogitatio  non  nisi  symbolica  est. — Med.  de  cog.  ver.  d 
ideis. 

The  ground  for  this  distinction  has  been  furnished  already 

JeadgSuiained~    *n  ^G  position,  that  every  concept  supposes  an  individual 

concrete,  either  real  or  imaginary,  in  which  it  is  exemplified. 

No  person  can  receive  the  import  of  the  concept  except  as  he  resorts  to  this  concrete  for 
interpretation  and  explanation.  When  I  pronounce  such  words  as  white,  red,  svicel,  sour,  etc., 
I  presuppose  that  the  person  to  whom  I  address  them  has  known  by  experience,  i.  e.,  by 
intuition,  what  they  signify ;  that  he  has  either  seen  these  colors  and  tasted  these  tastes,  or 
those  which  are  sufficiently  like  them.  If  he  has  had  no  intuitive  or  analogous  experience  of 
them,  my  words  convey  to  him  no  meaning.  The  same  is  true  of  all  the  so-called  simple  ideas 
of  Locke,  which  are  the  constituent  elements  of  all  those  which  are  complex. 

When,  again,  I  use  the  words  man,  legislation,  and  civilization,  I  suppose  that  the  person 
whom  I  address  has  had  at  least  some  experience  of  the  elementary  conceptions  which  enter 
into  these  compounds,  and  in  all  probability  has  had  intuition  of  some  concrete  example  of  the 
compound  itself.  By  whatever  beings  or  events  within  his  experience  he  may  interpret  or 
image  them  to  himself,  the  fact  is  unquestioned  that  he  must  refer  to  his  own  experience,  to 
understand  the  import  either  of  the  elements  or  of  the  compounds,  or  of  both.  The  same  is  true 
of  the  more  recondite  properties  and  relations — those  beliefs  and  principles  which  are  the 
subjects  of  metaphysical  controversy  and  speculation.  Neither  word  nor  concept  can  convey  any 
meaning  to  the  man  that  does  not  find  within  his  own  experience  a  voucher  for  its  validity  and 
'/mport. 

The  chief  objects  for  which  words  and  concepts  are  used 

Words  valuable  »'«•*•*  -,  •,  ,-,-,•(* 

for   definition    are  denned  and  exact  thought  on  the  one  hand,  and  iniorma- 

and  impression.         .  .  °  ._. 

tion  and  impression  on  the  other.  In  the  one  case,  the  mind  is 
occupied  with  the  more  abstract  and  general  relations  of  objects.  In  the 
other,  those  which  are  broader  and  more  obvious  are  employed,  often  solely 
for  the  excitement  and  gratification  of  the  emotions.  In  both  cases,  use 
must  be  made  of  the  objects  and  images  of  individual  experience.  But  in 
the  first,  the  relations  concerned  are  less  dependent  upon  the  individual 
images  which  happen  to  be  suggested,  because  to  convey  or  awaken  gen- 
eral relations  is  the  chief  end.  What  are  the  individual  examples  by  which 
each  individual  hearer  or  reader  verifies  or  illustrates  them,  la  of  les  im 
portance,  provided  he  understands  what  is  said. 


428  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §427, 

But  even  here  intuition  is  far  better  than  symbolic  knowledge;  rather  should 

AdYftntage      of    it  be  said,  intuition  with  thought  is  far  better  than  symbolic  knowledge  with- 

iEtuition    above  m,  „  ,    ,   „   .  .          « 

description.  out  intuition.     Ine  most  caretul  aennition  01  a  mountain,  trie  ocean-surf,  a 

cataract,  a  giraffe,  a  palm-tree,  may  convey  far  less  satisfactory  and  far  less 
accurate  impressions  than  the  inspection  of  a  moment  might  furnish,  provided  the  inspection 
leads  to  thought — i.  e.,  to  the  formation  or  verification  of  concepts.  With  the  concrete  before 
us,  our  concepts  are  more  exact,  because  we  see  for  ourselves.  The  concrete  also  furnishea 
the  material  for  any  new  concepts  which  we  ourselves  may  form  directly  from  their  objects. 
Merely  logical  inferences  from  thought-premises  and  definitions,  cannot  be  trusted  so  confi- 
dently as  when  the  fuller  material  of  intuition  and  experience  is  before  the  mind.  But  what 
is  more  important  than  all,  is  the  circumstance,  that,  when  the  knowledge  is  logical  only,  the 
concrete  images  and  illustration  that  are  suggested  may  mislead  to  important  error,  or  even  » 
defeat  the  very  impression  which  the  words  and  reasonings  are  fitted  to  convey.  While  the 
teacher  employs  concepts  and  arguments  which  the  original  concrete  fully  authorize  and 
enforce  to  his  own  mind,  the  hearer  may  interpret  or  verify  them  by  others  which  are  not 
exactly  similar  or  pertinent,  and  which  not  only  fail  to  illustrate  and  confirm  what  is  asserted, 
but  seem  to  contradict  and  overthrow  it. 

words  more  in-  The  defects  of  mere  words  and  the  images  which  they  awaken 
mereeqde  script  m  comparison  with  actual  intuition  are  still  more  striking 
tion-  when  the  objects  are  described  rather  than  defined,  and  for 

the  purposes  of  vivid  impression  and  excited  feeling.  One  is  forcibly  im- 
pressed with  these  defects,  when  he  reads  a  description  of  a  scene  in  na- 
ture with  which  he  is  personally  familiar ;  especially  if  he  reads  it  with 
the  scene  actually  before  him.  However  graphic  or  complete  the  descrip- 
tion may  be,  it  is  but  a  lifeless  outline  when  compared  with  the  fulness 
and  vividness  of  the  reality,  or  with  the  throng  of  images  which  are 
awakened  in  the  memory. 

The  impressions  received  from  words  by  one  who  has  never  witnessed  the  reality,  are  but 
as  thin  and  pallid  shadows,  when  contrasted  with  full  and  glowing  intuitions.  The  most  exact 
and  affluent  description  of  Niagara  is  a  very  different  thing  to  one  who  has  recently  seen  the 
cataract,  or  who  reads  with  his  eye  open  upon  the  scene,  from  what  it  can  be,  to  one  who  has 
never  seen  its  wonders.  If  a  person  has  never  seen  any  waterfall,  it  is  still  more  impotent  to 
instruct  the  mind. 

These  facts  bring  to  light  very  distinctly  the  truth  that  lan- 
guage  operates  to  a  very  great  extent  by  suggesting  the 
images  and  remembrances  which  have  been  gained  by  the 
experience  and  observation  of  each  individual  person.     Besides  the  direct 
office  of  instructing  the  mind,  it  serves  to  awaken  a  multitude  of  kindred 
images  and  facts  which  are  suggested  to  them. 

All  that  we  have  seen,  or  heard,  or  experienced,  may  be  recalled  by  the  words  of  another, 
whc  is  entirely  unconscious  of  the  power  which  he  wields,  and  the  ^rork  which  he  is  perform- 
ing. Words  which  to  one  are  dead  and  meaningless  are  to  another  full  of  life  and  import. 
Words  meant  only  in  kindness  may  awaken  images  of  sorrow  and  pain.  The  reader  of  poetry 
must  have  somewhat  of  a  poet's  power  to  receive  and  recreate.  The  student  of  philosophy  must 
have  something  of  a  philosopher's  reach  and  insight,  to  understand  and  judge  what  he  reads 


§  427.         NATURE  OF  THE  CONCEPT.  —  CONCLUSIONS  FROM  THEORIES.  429 

There  is  a  large  chss  of  facts  and  truths,  as  well  of  scenes  and  events,  to 
Language  often  which  language  can  do  but  scant  justice.  These  are  those  to  which  the  facts 
very  inadequate.  &nd  eventg  wniCQ  we  know  and  have  experienced  are  only  remotely  analogoua 

Language  is  feeble  to  convey  to  the  inhabitant  of  a  plain  or  prairie,  the  im 
pressions  of  mountain  scenery  ;  to  the  stranger  to  woods,  the  grandeur  of  an  aboriginal  forest  ; 
to  one  who  has  always  lived  inland,  the  glory  and  the  beauty  of  the  ocean.  A  savage  cannot 
appreciate,  by  description,  the  attractions  of  civilization.  The  person  who  has  not  entered  a 
cathedral,  or  seen  some  of  the  great  works  of  art  in  painting  and  sculpture,  can  never  by  c'*- 
scription,  be  made  to  appreciate  these  objects. 

The  s    boiism    When  the  means  of  finding  analogies  are  still  more  scanty, 
^ie  commUTn'cati°n  by  language  is  still  less  successful.    How 


world.  anxiously  do  we  endeavor  to  anticipate  what  may  be  the 

scenes  and  objects  to  which  another  life  may  introduce  us  !  But  how  feoble 
is  our  power  to  imagine  them,  because  our  stock  of  analoga  is  so 
scanty  !  We  desire  most  earnestly  that  descriptions  in  language  may  con- 
vey to  us  the  desired  information.  But  language  may  be  in  itself  to  a 
large  extent  impossible,  because  the  only  images  which  language  can  sug- 
gest must  of  necessity  be  taken  from  the  scenes  of  the  present  state  of 
being. 

But  while  the  images  taken  from  these  sources  may  as  images  be  wholly  inadequate  ;  the 
thought-relations  which  they  convey  may  be  entirely  trustworthy.  The  most  important  of 
these  are  taken  from  spiritual  being,  and  pertain  to  the  thoughts  and  feelings  in  which  spirits 
may  be  essentially  alike,  however  widely  removed  may  be  the  objects  with  which  they  are 
conversant,  or  the  media  through  which  they  communicate  with  them.  It  is  impossible  for  us 
to  have  images  of  a  state  of  being  in  which  the  spirit  may  have  investments  and  confront 
objects  that  are  unlike  those  to  which  we  are  accustomed  in  our  present  condition.  But  if  we 
oelieve  it  possible  that  the  spirit  shall  retain  its  identity  and  its  most  important  spiritual  states 
and  acts,  then  it  is  easy  to  see  how  in  connection  with  and  through  images  borrowed  from 
the  things  and  events  of  the  present,  unchanging  thought-relations  may  be  conceived  and  taught. 

It  is  sometimes  asserted  that  the  Infinite  Spirit  can  have  no 

Can  the  infinite  .  .  .  .,    .  in 

be  described  by  common  relations  with  the  unite,  so  that  all  our  conceptions 
of  the  infinite  must  be  finite  and  therefore  inadequate  and 
unworthy  ;  and  that,  consequently,  all  attempts  of  language  to  convey 
knowledge  from  the  higher  to  the  lower  must  be  forever  impossible,  be- 
cause the  media  —  i.  e.,  the  images  and  concepts  —  must  both  be  finite.  This 
is  urged  against  the  possibility  of  any  communication  from  God  through 
the  forms  of  finite  nature,  or  by  the  media  of  human  speech.  It  may  be 
granted  that  to  the  mind,  in  its  studies  of  nature,  the  images  suggested  or 
excited  in  the  mind  and  the  language  founded  on  such  images  are 
wholly  inadequate  to  express  the  divine,  because  both  are  finite  ;  it  may 
be  granted  even  that  the  concepts  of  spiritual  relations  must  necessarily  be 
.nterpreted  and  illustrated  by  images  taken  from  finite  objects,  and  so  far 
there  are  essential  defects  in  our  imaginations  concerning  God  :  yet  it  may 
remain  true  that  there  are  relations  of  similarity  and  analogy  between  the 
finite  and  the  infinite  spirit,  which  render  it  possible  that  the  one  should 


430  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §428. 

be  understood  "by  the  other,  and  that  the  language  which  describes  th« 
one  to  the  other  should  convey  actual  truth. 

The  infinitude  of  God  may  not  exclude  personality,  which  itself  establishes  a 
Man  may  be  in  likeness  between  man  and  God.  Personality  may  involve  similarity  of  knowl- 
God. image  °f  edge  in  itS  hiSner  and  permanent  relations.  A  common  sympathy  may  arise 

from  a  similarity  of  emotional  capacities,  while  similarity  in  the  common 
capacity  of  a  personal  will  may  render  possible  a  similar  moral  Goodness.  These  likenesses  or 
analogies,  may  coexist  with  the  greatest  disparities  in  every  other  respect.  The  one  being  may 
be  infinite  and  the  Creator ;  the  other  may  be  finite  and  the  created ;  and  yet  the  one,  by 
indications  through  his  works  and  communications  by  his  word,  may  make  himself  truly,  if  not 
perfectly  known.  The  imagination  of  the  finite  may  be  inadequate  to  picture  the  infinite,  while 
the  thinking  of  the  finite  may  apprehend  the  relations  by  which  the  infinite  thinks,  and  there- 
fo'-e  creates,  and,  in  creating  manifests  himself  to  the  created. 


CHAPTER  V. 

JUDGMENT,    AND   THE   PROPOSITION. 

FROM  the  consideration  of  the  formation  and  the  nature  of  the  concept,  L  e.,  of  the  process  and 
the  product,  we  proceed  to  its  evolution  and  expansion  ;  to  judgment  considered  likewise  aa 
a  process  and  a  product.  The  two  are  often  known  by  the  same  appellation,  viz.: 
judgment.  More  frequently,  however,  the  product  is  known  by  the  expression  of  the 
same  in  language,  i.  e.,  as  a  proposition.  This  term  again  is  usually  restricted  to  a  logical 
proposition,  or  a  proposition  as  composed  of  two  concepts,  i.  e.,  a  logical  subject  and  predi- 
cate. It  will  be  found,  however,  that  both  judgment  and  the  proposition  are  more 
extensively  applied  ;  that  the  psychological  is  the  condition  of  the  logical  judgment ;  that 
judgment  enters  into  all  the  processes  of  thought,  and  therefore  deserves*  the  most  care- 
ful consideration. 

TXe  concept  §  428-  The  processes  already  considered,  and  which  are 
o?Sdgment  act  inv°lved  in  forming  and  applying  notions,  are  alike  in  this; 
they  are  all  acts  of  judgment.  The  mind  cannot  think 
without  judging.  To  think,  is  to  judge.  Even  in  forming  or  evolving 
its  notions — that  is,  in  providing  itself  with  the  materials  for  what  are 
usually  called  acts  of  judgment — the  mind  must  judge. 

This  assertion  runs  counter  to  the  statements  which  we  find  in  many  books  of 

How  represent-    logic,  which  teach  that  the  mind  first  furnishes  itself  with  notions  or  general 
ed  in  many  log- 
ical treatises.        terms  by  means  of  simple  apprehension,  and  then  proceeds  to  compare  and 

discern  whether  they  agree  or  disagree  :    This  last  act  only  is  called  an  act  of 
judgment,  and  this  is  expressed  in  language  by  the  proposition. 

This  doctrine  is  true  only  of  the  logical  judgment — that  is,  the  judgment  which  supposes 
the  mind  to  be  in  possession  of  notions  already  formed,  the  relations  of  which  it  discerns  and 
expresses  in  language.  It  entirely  overlooks  and  leaves  out  of  view  those  judgments  which 
are  psychological,  i.  e.,  those  acts  by  which  we  acquire  the  notions  which  we  afterwards  use. 
It  is  with  these  judgments  that  we  have  to  do;  it  is  of  this  class  of  acts,  that  we  assert 
that  they  must  be  exercised  even  in  forming  our  concepts.  Cf.  Reid,  Inq.,  c.  ii.  §  4 ;  Ess.  iv.  c.  3 

The  truth  of  this  assertion  is  evident  from  many  considerations. 


§   428.  JUDGMENT  AND  THE  PROPOSITION.  431 

(i)  Proved  b  the  (ls)  It  is  evident  from  an  analysis  of  the  act  itself.  If  we 
analysis  of  the  retrace  the  steps  which  we  have  taken  in  forming  concepts, 
we  find  that  we  cannot  know  attributes,  except  as  we  affirm 
them  of  individual  beings.  An  attribute  without  a  being  is  inconceiva- 
ble in  thought  and  impossible  in  fact.  We  can  neither  think  nor  believe 
it  to  be,  without  a  something  to  which  it  belongs.  In  the  very  act  of 
analysis,  by  which  we  separate  an  element  in  order  to  compare  it  with 
others  like  itself,  we  must  restore  it  to  that  from  which  it  was  abstracted. 
The  instant  we  exalt  these  similars  into  a  same  which  is  common  to  every 
being,  we  judge  this  same  to  be  true  of  them.  all. 

Suppose  we  meet  with  a  series  of  unknown  and  unnamed  objects,  each  of  which  has  some 
attribute  or  property,  or  attribute  that  is  new  and  without  a  name  :  or  suppose  the  attribute  to 
be  familiar  and  nazneable,  while  the  objects  are  unnamed.  We  think  and  say  of  each  of  these 
objects,  it  is  yellow,  red,  or  green  ;  or,  it  is  this  and  that.  We  in  fact  perform  a  process 
which  can  only  be  represented  by  some  proposition,  one  element  of  which  is  affirmed  of 
another  :  e.  g.,  x  is  yellow,  red,  or  green  ;  or  if  each  is  without  a  name,  x  [individual]  is  y 
[common].  The  nearest  and  best  expression  of  this  act  which  we  find  in  any  form  of  language 
Is  the  impersonal  verb,  as,  it  shines,  it  lightens,  it  rains,  in  the  use  of  which  the  unnamed 
being  is  present  to  the  senses,  and  the  attribute  is  mentally  judged  or  affirmed  of  it. 


(2  )  implied  in  (2*)  ^  *s  st^  farther  implied  in  the  truth  already  developed, 
the  nature  of  ^hat  every  notion  is  by  its  very  nature  and  essence  relative. 

the  concept    as  .... 

relative.  ^  e^  related  to  individual  objects  or  actually  existing  things. 

As  a  predicable,  it  is  affirmable  of  individuals  ;  as  a  universal,  it  is  com- 
mon, —  i.  e.y  it  belongs  equally  to  single  objects.  In  other  words,  the 
notion  is  founded,  as  was  shown,  upon  attributes,  and  attributes  are  in 
their  very  essence  actually  taken  from,  and  capable  of  being  restored  to, 
the  things  to  which  they  pertain. 

(3.)  The  same  fact  is  evident  from  the  consideration  of  the 
lure  of  names*"  meanm&  °^  names,  and  of  what  is  implied  in  the  expression  of 

notions  in  language.  A  name  is  the  the  verbal  symbol  of  a 
concept  or  notion.  But  to  be  a  name,  it  must  be  a  name  of  some  object 
or  objects  ;  some  object  must  be  called  by  it  ;  it  must  be  applied  to  some 
thing  or  being.  But  all  these  acts  imply  judgment. 
(4  )  in  the  na-  (4')  ^  *s  imP^e^  D7  tne  Vei7  definition  of  knowledge.  In 
ture  of  knowi-  discussing  the  act  of  knowledge,  we  have  already  found 

that  it  implies  judgment,  whether  the  knowledge  takes  the 
form  of  presentation,  representation,  or  thought.  We  have  sought  to 
prove  that  all  knowledge  implies  more  than  the  apprehension  of  an  object 
as  existing  ;  viz.,  its  existence  in  some  relation.  If  it  is  true  that  knowl- 
edge by  perception  and  memory  implies  judgment,  much  more  does 
knowledge  by  thought,  forasmuch  as  we  have  seen  that  the  general  with 
which  thought  has  to  do,  is,  by  its  very  essence  and  nature,  only  a  relative 
and  affirmable  entity 


$32  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  42ft 

We  conclude  from  these  data,  that 

Mutual  relations   Wherever  there  is  a  notion,  there  is  an  implied  act  of  judg« 
ment.     Every  such  notion  has  been  formed  by  judgment, 

J  J    J 


^v 

and    the     judg- 

ment.  an(j  is  capable  of  being  expanded  into  a  judgment.     It  is  an 

organic  thing,  representing  in  its  very  essence  the  act  which  gave  it  being 
and  capable  of  being  developed  into  similar  though  more  complex  prod 
ucts.  It  is  like  a  seed,  which  is  a  miniature  plant,  having  come  from  a 
plant  and  being  ready  to  spring  into  a  plant  ;  or  it  is  like  the  cell  which 
is  the  ultimate  element  of  growth  and  development  in  vegetable  or 
animal  life.  We  do  not  judge  by  a  mechanical  and  superinduced  act  of 
the  intellect,  which,  finding  two  names  or  notions,  proceeds  to  fasten 
them  together;  but  it  is  of  the  very  nature  of  the  notion,  that  it  can  be 
applied  or  united  to  some  object.  This  natural  and  necessary  act  of 
union  or  synthesis  is  an  act  of  judgment.  The  true  doctrine  may  be  stated 
thus  :  every  concept  is  a  contracted  judgment  ;  every  judgment  is  an 
expanded  concept. 

jud  ments  are    §  429*  ^e  judgments  ^7  which  concepts  are  formed,  are 
psychological       properly   called  primary,   natural,  and  psychological  judg- 

ments. They  are  distinguished  by  the  circumstance  that 
their  subject  is  an  existing  and  individual  thing.  Judgments  of  the  other 
class  are  secondary,  artificial  and  logical.  In  these,  concepts,  not  things, 
are  apparently  compared  with  one  another,  so  that  concepts  seem  to  be 
the  only  objects-matter. 

And  vet,  in  these  judgments  it  is  true,  that  the  reason  why 

Judgments     of  *  ?       ~  •        i 

mental  entities,  concepts  are  affirmed  of  concepts  is,  that  concepts  are,  in 
their  very  nature,  affirmed  and  affirmable  of  things.  The 
bond  which  unites  one  concept  with  another  in  judgments  that  are 
purely  logical  and  general  is  in  the  last  analysis  the  same  bond  by  which 
concepts  are  connected  with  things.  The  secondary,  comparative,  and 
logical  judgments  are  all  founded  on  those  which  are  primary,  natural, 
and  psychological.  To  be  convinced  of  this  truth,  we  need  only  to  con- 
sider the  expression  of  judgments  in  language,  and  to  trace  the  order  of 
progress  by  which  logical  judgments  or  judgments  consisting  of  concepts 
come  to  be  reached  and  understood. 

When  purely  mental  entities  are  treated  of,  whether  fictions  of  imagi- 
nation, as  the  centaur,  or  mathematical  constructions,  as  the  triangle,  or 
abstracta,  as  virtue,  they  are  treated  as  actually  existing  beings. 

The  fact  has  already  been  established,  that  the  concept,  by  its  very  nature, 
of  a  judgment  is  contemplates  attributes  only  ;  and  that  concepts,  like  man,  human,  humanity, 


in  so  far  as  tbeir  constituent  attributes  are  concerned,  stand  for  precisely  th« 
same  content  of  attributes.  When  they  are  expressed  in  language,  however, 
man  and  human  differ  in  this,  that  the  one  word,  man,  denotes  a  being  to  which  these  attributes 
belong,  and  the  other,  human,  denotes  the  attributes  only.  By  what  process  the  mind  comes 
to  be  possessed  of  these  two  sorts  of  words,  we  need  not  here  inquire.  But  wben  it  does 


§431.  JUDGMENT  AND   THE   PROPOSITION.  433 

possess  them,  it  cannot  but  use  them.  Instead  of  thinking  or  saying,  it  is  green,  or,  it  rains,  the 
man  says,  orange  is  yellow,  cloud  rains.  Soon  it  learns  to  say  it  in  three  ways ;  this  orange 
is  yellow,  some  oranges  are  yellow,  all  oranges  are  yellow,  according  as  it  uses  the  general 
name  for  one,  a  part,  or  all  of  the  beings  for  which  the  orange  stands.  In  order  to  do  this,  it 
applies  special  terms  to  denote  these  three  relations,  viz.,  the  words  the  or  this,  or  one,  f  nns 
[a  few  or  many],  and  all. 

HOW   does  the    8  430.    The  secondary  iudomient,  when  its  subject  is  an  indi- 

logical    differ0  .  J    J       &  ^  J 

from   the  psy-    vidual  object,  differs  from  the  primary  only  in  this,  that  the 

cholopical  judg-  ,  .  J  J 

ment?  subject  is  denoted  by  means  of  a  common  term.     Instead  of 

saying  it,  we  say  this  orange.  If  the  subject  is  a  universal,  as  all  oranges, 
the  mind  gives  the  result  of  its  separate  observations,  or  their  equivalent 
induction,  by  using  the  concept  in  its  largest  extent. 

The  fact  that  a  concept  has  the  two  relations  of  extent  and  content,  fits  it  to  be 
capable  of  being  used  both  as  the  name  of  one  or  more  individuals,  and  as  an  attribute  only, 
subject  or  predi-  Wnen  a  concept  is  used  to  denote  beings,  it  is  used  in  the  relation  of  extent. 

When  it  is  used  to  denote  attributes,  it  is  used  in  the  relation  of  content. 
Every  notion  must  have  both  of  these  relations,  and  cannot  exist  without  them.  In  the  natural 
judgment  by  which  every  concept  is  formed,  one  of  these  relations  is  expressed  by  intuition, 
and  is  represented  by  the  subject  it ;  the  other  is  formed  by  thought,  and  becomes  the  pred- 
icate  yellow  or  rains.  In  the  secondary  judgment  a  concept  used  in  its  extent  only  is  em- 
ployed as  the  subject  and  takes  the  place  of  tbe  intuition  or  induction ;  the  notion  as  content 
retains  its  place  as  predicate,  and  the  natural  judgment  by  which  the  notion  is  formed  and  in 
which  only  one  notion  can  be  used,  becomes  a  secondary  judgment  in  which  two  notions  aps- 
pear.  These  considerations  fully  establish  the  po>sition  that  the  two  species  of  judgment  are  in 
their  essential  nature  one  and  the  same,  inasmuch  as  both  express  what  is  essentially 
involved  in  the  act  of  thinking,  viz. :  an  act  of  affirming  a  concept  of  an  existing  being  or  thing. 

§  431.  This  relation  discerned  by  this  act  is  expressed  in 
language  by  the  copula,  whenever  the  copula  appears  as  a 
separate  word.  The  is  of  the  judgment  means  the  relation 
affirmed  or  judged,  i.  e.,  known  to  exist  between  the  being  and  its  attri- 
bute. It  makes  no  difference  whether  it  is  or  is  not  expressed,  it  is  still 
present  as  an  element  in  every  judgment,  whether  it  is  so  united  with  the 
predicate  as  to  form  with  it  a  single  word,  or  whether  it  is  expressed  by 
the  verb  to  be.  The  act  of  judgment  is  the  same  whatever  be  its  verbal 
expression,  whether  subject  predicate  and  copula  are  condensed  in  a  sin- 
gle word,  s,s,pluit — or  expanded  into  two,  as,  it  rains — or  into  three,  as, 
the  clouds  are  raining. 

The  copula  does  not  require  or  imply  that  the  being  should  actually  exist  in 
Tho  copula  does  fact,  that  there  should  be  an  actually  existing  material  or  spiritual  thing  ot 
existence.  agent,  of  which  the  attribute  is  affirmed  or  thought.  The  being  may  be  an 

imaginary  being,  as  a  centaur,  or  a  mathematical  entity,  as  a  triangle,  or  an 
abstractum  as  whiteness,  or  virtue,  or  legislation ;  and  yet  one  or  more  attributes  may  be 
asserted  or  thought  of  each.  All  that  the  copula  properly  signifies  is,  that  the  concept  has 
this  or  that  attribute,  one  or  many.  Whether  the  concept  is  of  a  real  being  or  of  a  thought- 
being  is  presumed,  or  left  to  be  determined  by  other  sources  of  knowledge.  If  a  centaur  ia 
spoken  of,  we  know  it  has  only  imaginary  existence ;  if  a  triangle,  that  it  is  a  mathematical 
28 


134  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §438 

conception  or  construction ;  if  virtue  or  legislation,  we  know  we  must  go  back  to  concrete 
beings,  to  fine,  the  reality  of  which  these  are  abstracts, 

§  432.  It  has  been  established  that  every  notion  is  a  contracted 
content  and  ex-  judgment  and  every  judgment  is  an  expanded  notion,  and  also 

that  every  notion  has  two  relations — the  relation  of  content 
and  the  relation  of  extent.  It  follows  that  notions  can  be  expanded  into 
two  kinds  of  judgments  :  judgments  of  content  and  judgments  of  extent. 
Both  these  forms  of  judgment  require  special  illustration. 

We  begin  \joith  the  Judgment  of  Content. 

This  is  the  form  taken  by  all  original  and  natural  judgments.  It  is  by 
a  judgment  of  content  or  of  a  common  attribute  or  relation  that  every 
notion  is  originally  formed.  This  is  also  the  form  in  which  judgments 
most  frequently  occur  in  language.  Objects  are  observed  and  their  com- 
mon attribute  or  attributes  are  thought,  i.  e.,  judged  of  them,  and  the 
thought  when  expressed  in  words  gives  those  propositions  which  abound 
in  every  language.  It  is  only  by  a  reflex  act  that  the  mind  develops 
and  employs  judgments  of  extent. 

These  natural  judgments  of  content,  serve  the  purposes  of  common  life  and  of 

Natural       and     common  intercourse.     For  the  ends  and  uses  of  Science  we  need  to  go  further 
scientific     judg- 
ments of  content,     and  to  employ  propositions  of  definition.     In  such  propositions  we  assert  not, 

merely  one  or  more  attributes  for  purposes  of  information,  but  we  indicate 
all  the  attributes  which  make  up  or  constitute  the  whole  content.  For  example,  we  are  required 
not  only  to  state  some  one  attribute  or  relation  which  is  true  of  man,  but  all  the  attributes 
which  are  required  to  distinguish  men  from  other  beings ;  in  other  words  to  give  the  defining 
attributes  or  constituents — the  definition  of  the  concept.  To  accomplish  this  end  we  must 
express  what  is  called  the  whole  content,  since  if  we  state  only  those  elements  which  are  com- 
mon to  this  concept  and  many  others,  and  omit  one  or  more  that  is  peculiar,  we  do  not  define 
it  from  the  others  ;  that  is,  we  do  not  separate  either  the  concept  or  the  objects  for  which  it  stands 
from  all  the  other  concepts  and  objects.  If  we  define  a  circle  as  a  curvilinear  figure,  the  circle  is 
not  distinguished  from  an  ellipse.  If  we  define  man  to  be  a  two-legged  and  featherless  being, 
this  is  true  also  of  a  plucked  chicken.  Hence  the  rule  by  which  we  try  and  determine  a  good 
definition :  The  proposition  which  expresses  it  must  be  convertible.  We  must  not  only  be  able 
truly  to  assert '  every  triangle  is  a  plane  three-sided  figure,'  but  '  every  plane  three-sided  figure 
is  a  triangle,'  not  only  '  every  man  is  a  rational  animal,'  but  '  every  rational  animal  is  a  man.' 

The  content  was  called  by  Aristotle  and  the   Scholastics  the 

Essence,     real  .  *  _  •,  •   •, 

and  nominal,  essence,  i.  e.,  attributes  or  elements  which  make  the  notion  to 
be  what  it  is  as  a  notion.  A  distinction  has  also  been  made 
between  the  real  and  nominal  essence,  and  between  a  real  and  nominal 
definition.  The  real  essence  is,  properly,  its  entire  content,  and  a  real 
definition  would  be  a  statement  of  this  in  language.  The  nominal  defini- 
tion would  properly  be  the  definition  by  an  equivalent  name  or  names. 

Aristotle  himself  meant  primarily  by  the  essence  that  which  existed  permanently  and  really 
in  the  objects  to  which  the  concept  belonged  rather  than  the  attributes  themselves  as  constitu- 
ting the  concept.  He  applied  essence  metaphysically  rather  than  logically,  to  the  objective 


§433.  JUDGMENT  AND  THE    PROPOSITION.  438 

correlate  of  the  concept,  rather  than  to  the  concept  itself  as  an  intellectual  or  subjective  product 
Cf.  §  399.  It  is  easy  to  see  how  the  term  might  be  employed  first  as  the  constitutive  nature  of 
each  object  or  thing  conceived,  and  afterwards  be  transferred  to  the  species  which  make  up  a 
genus  or  into  which  a  genus  is  divided,  and  finally  be  applied  to  every  individual  or 
object. 

§  433.    What  is  often  intended  by  this  distinction  is  better 

Real  and  logical     '  .         ...      .  J 

truth  the  copula  expressed  by  the  distinction  ot  real  essence  and  thought' 
essence,  or  real  and  logical  truth.  This  distinction  can  be 
appreciated  and  understood  only  as  we  remember  the  remark  already 
made,  §  431,  that  propositions  may  concern  existing  beings  or  notions 
of  beings  to  which  there  is  no  corresponding  reality.  The  proposition  as 
a  definition  only,  expands  the  content  or  essence  of  the  concept,  without 
deciding  whether  any  corresponding  reality  exists  in  fact.  When  for  ex- 
ample we  define  the  centaur  we  give  the  attributes  that  make  up  the  concep- 
tion without  asserting  or  knowing  that  no  such  being  exists.  When  we  define 
a  triangle  we  state  the  essential  constituents  of  the  concept  produced  by  the 
constructive  imagination,  knowing  that  it  has  no  other  existence.  Whei 
we  define  man  we  define  the  concept  and  believe  it  is  realized  in  fact  and 
actual  being.  The  definition  of  centaur  implies  only  thought-essence  or 
logical  truth.  The  definition  of  man  implies  both  logical  and  real  truth. 
The  copula  is,  in  the  one  case  signifies  c  is  defined  as"1  or  '  consists  of ;  in 
the  other  signifies — both  '  is  defined  as  '  and  '  really  exists? 

In  very  many  cases  we  readily  interpret  the  meaning  of  the  copula  and  the 
The  import  of  character  of  the  judgment  and  definition,  by  our  knowledge  of  the  subject- 
interpreted.  °  matter.  In  other  cases  we  have  no  such  knowledge  as  qualifies  us  to  deter- 
mine whether  the  definition  is  really  true,  as  well  as  logically  consistent. 
Suppose  any  of  the  following  concepts  are  to  be  defined :  virtue,  duty,  inalienable  right,  natu- 
ral liberty,  tyranny,  a  sovereign  state.  It  is  of  essential  importance  to  know  whether  the 
definition  concerns  only  the  concept  as  a  mental  product,  existing  in  and  for  the  mind  only, 
or  whether  there  are  real  relations  and  activities  of  the  human  soul,  to  which  the  concept 
corresponds.  In  the  first  instance  we  should  need  to  consider  only,  whether  the  concept  is 
correctly  defined  as  it  is  ordinarily  used  or  as  this  or  that  school  of  philosophers  or  politi- 
cians imagined  or  conceived  it.  In  the  second,  we  should  inquire,  whether  it  answers  to  a 
truth  of  fact,  i.  <?.,  whether  the  concept  has  a  corresponding  reality. 

In  the  definitions  of  science,  both  these  questions  should  be  carefully  consid- 
Real  and  logical  ered.  The  subject-matter  is  so  far  removed  from  common  observation,  and 
eon  founded."*"  tne  language  is  necessarily  so  abstract,  especially  in  those  sciences  which  re- 
late to  the  human  soul  or  any  of  its  products,  that  it  is  not  always  certain,  if 
the  definitions  appear  to  be  consistent  and  complete,  that  there  are  answering  realities  in  the 
actual  univewe.  Scientific  truth  implies  both  logical  and  real  truth.  Logical  truth  is  but 
another  name  for  logical  consistency.  A  dexterous  logician,  if  suffered  to  frame  his  own  con- 
cepts and  construct  his  own  propositions,  may  easily  frame  a  system  which  shall  have  sufti 
cient  truth  to  give  plausibility  to  all  that  is  defective  by  omission,  or  false  by  positive  error. 
Every  definition  should  therefore  be  scrutinized  in  both  these  aspects  and  relations.  It  should 
always  be  remembered  that  a  proposition  may  be  logically  true  and  yet  really  false,  while 
3cience  requires  that  the  definition  should  not  only  be  logically  consistent  and  logically  com 
plete,  but  also  really  exhaustive  and  really  true. 


436  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §433 

We  consider  next  Judgments  of  Extent. 

The  proposition  of  extent  is  the  natural  consequent  of  the 
extent,   follow  proposition  of  content.     The  proposition  of  content   is   first 

those    of    con-     "      " 

tent.  in  time,  because  the  knowledge  of  the  individual  goes  before 

the  knowledge  of  the  general,  or  if  the  two  are  distinguished  together, 
the  general  is  first  known  as  belonging  to  the  individual  and  affirmable 
of  it.  As  soon,  however,  as  a  single  attribute  is  affirmed  as  common  to 
many  individuals,  then  this  common  attribute  can  be  conceived  as  itself 
dividing  or  constituting  these  individuals  into  a  class  by  themselves.  As 
,*oon  as  we  think,  This  house  is  white,  it  is  possible  for  us  to  refer  the 
bouse  to  the  class  of  white  objects.  But  because  every  generalized 
attribute  may  classify  the  objects  to  which  it  belongs,  it  does  not  follow 
that  the  mind  recognizes  it  in  this  relation,  or  expresses  the  relation  in 
language.  It  is  not  till  the  adjective,  white,  becomes  a  noun,  that  we 
use  it  as  a  classifier,  and  think  or  say,  whites,  i.  e.,  white  men,  are  Miglish, 
French,  etc.,  etc.,  or  white  things  are  so  and  so.  It  is  not  till  we  turn 
back  upon  our  thinking,  and  recognize  the  fact  that  these  attributes 
divide  the  beings  to  which  they  belong  into  classes,  and  go  further  and 
notice  that  some  of  the  classes  of  objects  are  wider  and  some  narrower 
than  others,  that  we  have  occasion  to  think  of  these  notions  in  their 
extent,  or  to  expand  them  into  propositions  of  extent. 

Indeed  it  is  not  till  the  formal  classifications  of  science  begin  to  be  formed 
Of  especial  im-  and  fixed,  that  such  propositions  make  much  figure  in  language,  or  that  they 
science.  are  sharply  distinguished  from  propositions  of  content.  It  occasionally 

happens  in  common  life  that  we  find  such  assertions  as  the  following  or  their 
equivalents  :  Of  trees  there  are  oak,  maple,  pine,  etc.  Of  oaks  there  are  white  oak,  black  oak, 
rock  oak,  etc.,  etc.  The  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain  are  English,  Scotch,  Irish  and  Welsh. 
But  when  our  classes  are  perfected  by  scientific  research,  then  we  find  such  propositions  aa 
the  following :  The  human  race  is  made  up  of  five  varieties  according  to  Blumenbach,  viz., 
the  Caucasian,  the  Mongolian,  the  Ethiopian,  the  American  and  the  Malayan,  or  into  three 
according  to  Cuvier  ;  or  into  seven  according  to  Prichard ;  or  into  eight  according  to  Agassiz; 
or  into  eleven  according  to  Pickering.  Or  the  Mammalia  are  divided  into  Archonts,  Megas- 
thenes,  Microsthenes  and  Ooticoids,  each  of  which  divisions  except  the  first  are  numerously 
subdivided.  So  we  say  the  powers  of  the  soul  are  intellect,  sensibility  and  will.  The  faculties 
of  the  intellect  are  three  :  presentation,  representation  and  thought.  Our  duties  are  three- 
fold :  to  God,  our  fellow-men,  and  ourselves.  Every  such  proposition  expresses  the  single 
relation  of  extent.  The  concept  is  expanded  by  a  distinct  and  complete  enumeration  of  the 
narrower  concepts  by  which  the  individuals  which  make  up  its  extent  are  divided.  In  such 
propositions,  the  larger  or  wider  concept  is  naturally  the  subject,  though  it  makes  little  differ 
ence  which  is  placed  first  in  the  order  of  writing  or  utterance:  the  import  is  the  same 
whether  we  say,  the  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain  are  English,  Scotch,  Irish  and  Welsh ;  or  the 
English,  Scotch,  Irish  and  Welsh  constitute  or  make  up  the  inhabitants  of  Great  Britain. 

Propositions  founded  upon  the  relation  of  extent  appear  in  logic,  as  conjune- 
Bionlfof propoai-  *»««,  disjunctive  and  partitive,  according  to  the  several  uses  to  which  th« 
tions  of  extent,  proposition,  Or  the  argument  founded  upon  it,  is  designed  to  be  applied.  Wt 
acav  ea>  A  -a,  b  and  c  ;  or  every  A  is  either  a,  b  or  c,  or  every  a  is  A,  i.  e.  is  a  part  of  A. 


§  436.  JUDGMENT  AND  THE   PROPOSITION.  43f 

propositions  of  §  434.  Propositions  of  extent,  whether  used  in  common  life 
tent  imply  oue  or  for  the  purposes  of  science,  are  clearly  distinguishable  from 
propositions  of  content.  It  is,  however,  easy  to  confound  the 
one  with  the  other ;  and  easy  to  interchange  the  one  with  the  other.  Thti 
one  relation  is  so  intimately  connected  with  the  other,  that  we  are  oltei 
tempted  to  translate  the  propositions  which  express  the  one  into  those 
which  express  the  other.  We  cannot  say  that  man  is  an  animal  without 
implying  that  he  possesses  those  attributes  which  are  involved  in  the  con- 
cept and  term  animal.  Whenever  we  assert  that  man  is  a  species  of  which 
animal  is  a  genus,  we  must  ascribe  to  man  certain  attributes.  Conversely 
we  cannot  assert  certain  attributes  of  man  without  placing  him  in  a  certain 
class.  As  soon  as  we  add  other  attributes  to  those  which  are  essential  to  the 
genus,  we  must  in  fact  divide  this  genus  into  species  of  narrower  extent. 

These  facts  are  not  at  all  inconsistent  with  the  truth  that  we  at  some  tunes  use  proposi- 
tions with  sole  reference  to  their  content,  and  at  other  times  with  exclusive  respect  to  their 
extent.  Indeed,  th§  use  of  propositions  of  extent  is  a  necessary  condition  and  consequence  of 
logical  division.  If  division  is  distinguishable  from  definition,  then  are  propositions  of  extent 
clearly  distinguishable  from  propositions  of  content. 

Sir  William  Hamilton,  in  order  at  once  to  reach  the  highest  generalization  conceivable,  and  to  provide 
for  his  peculiar  theory  of  the  syllogism,  treats  the  relations  of  both,  extent  and  content  under  the  terms  and 
relations  of  quantity,  t.  e.,  of  extent  only.  For  example  :  in  the  proposition,  Milk  is  white,  we  may  con- 
ceive the  substance  milk  as  contained  in  the  class  of  white  things — or  the  concept  milk  as  containing 
white  in  its  logical  essence.  In  both  cases  we  have  the  relation  of  a  whole  to  its  parts,  the  difference  being, 
that  in  the  one  case  a  genus  contains  its  species  or  sorts,  and  in  the  other  the  concept  contains  its  elements. 
This  view  is  purely  logical,  being  taken  and  applied  merely  for  purposes  of  logical  convenience.  The  value 
of  this  view  for  logical  purposes  ie  open  to  discussion.  Even  if  it  should  be  conceded  to  be  very  great,  it 
does  not  follow  as  a  consequence,  that  the  distinction  between  propositions  of  content  and  extent  does  not 
represent  two  original  relations,  both  of  which  are  involved  in  the  existence  of  every  concept,  and  the  recog- 
nition of  both  of  which  is  implied  in  every  act  of  thought. 

8  435.    Moreover,  as  the  process  of  definition  conducts  to  a 

Definition  and     '  ,  '  *  .   .  . 

division  perfect-  completed  proposition  ot  content,  so  does  division  culminate 
in  an  exact  and  complete  proposition  of  extent.  Both  of 
these  processes  are  involved  in  the  beginnings  of  thinking.  They  are  only 
carried  forward  to  their  normal  perfection  when  we  reach  the  precise  and 
comprehensive  knowledge  which  science  attains.  Both  are  the  necessary 
condition  of  the  formation  and  use  of  general  terms,  and  are  the  constant 
iccompaniments  of  language.  Both  are  perfected  in  their  ideal  aims 
whenever  the  definitions  in  any  branch  of  knowledge  become  precise  and 
true,  and  the  divisions  become  orderly  and  exhaustive. 

It  is  a  superficial  error  but  not  the  less  serious,  to  suppose  that  scientific 
iVi**]!  tl  f  i°e  knowledge  differs  in  kind  from  common  knowledge ;  to  imagine  or  reason  as 
to  common  though  the  man  of  scientific  thinking  has  developed  or  exercised  intellectual 

powers  which  are  used  by  himself  alone,  or  has  discovered  special  processes  or 
devised  special  rules  which  have  no  relation  to  the  processes  and  methods  which  are 
natural  to  the  thinking  powers.  The  powers  employed  by  the  true  philosopher  and 
the  uncultured  are  the  same.  The  common  man  thinks  as  really,  and  in  his  way  he  thinks 
as  effectively  and  as  sagaciously,  as  does  the  philosopher.  He  fails  in  this  only,  that  hf 


438  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §435 

does  not  judge  so  carefully,  because  he  does  not  judge  under  the  pressure  and  guidancf 
of  so  definite  and  earnest  intellectual  aims.  Both  define  and  divide,  and  in  one  sense 
do  little  else.  They  are  continually  pronouncing  judgments  of  extent  and  content.  The  one 
defines  with  greater  exactness  and  divides  with  greater  care  than  the  other,  because  he  has  a 
constant  regard  to  the  consistency  of  every  concept  and  proposition  with  every  other-,  and  to 
the  coherence  of  all  together  in  the  subordinations  of  a  completed  system.  Both  employ  lan- 
guage in  the  service  of  their  common  purpose.  The  one  uses  terms  with  a  more  fixed  and 
definite  meaning  and  applies  them  to  existing  objects  with  a  nicer  and  more  comprehensive  obser- 
vation and  induction 

ffot  easy  to  di-  ^fc  follows  that  we  can  nowhere  find  the  dividing  line 
I^d^Sentiflo  whi°h  separates  common  from  scientific  knowledge.  We 
knowledge.  cannot  say,  in  the  history  of  any  branch  of  knowledge,  Here 
common  knowledge  ceases,  and  science  begins.  At  this  point  he  who 
knows  as  a  man,  begins  to  know  as  a  philosopher. 

Of  some  sciences  it  is  true,  that  at  a  certain  period  of  their  development,  common  terms  are 
exchanged  for  those  which  are  technical,  and  a  scholastic,  sometimes  a  repulsive  nomencla- 
ture takes  the  place  of  words  which  are  familiar  from  use  and  warm  with  grateful  associa- 
tions. Even  objects  that  in  the  earliest  classifications  have  been  grouped  together  by  affinities 
so  close  that  they  seem  to  have  a  necessary  and  unbroken  relationship,  are  strangely  separated  ; 
finding  themselves  suddenly  in  new  and  unpleasant  society.  Plants  and  trees  apparently  the 
most  alike  are  thrown  into  the  most  distant  groups,  and  those  which  are  apparently  the  most 
diverse  and  dissimilar  are  inexplicably  brought  together.  But  if  we  analyze  the  processes  and 
examine  then-  reasons,  we  shall  find  that  these  changes  are  owing  to  no  sudden  leap  over  a  mys- 
terious dividing  chasm,  but  have  been  effected  by  natural  progress  and  easy  transitions ;  that  these 
bristling  terms  of  art  are  easily  translated  into  their  equivalent  common  words,  while  the 
scientific  divisions  are  founded  on  likenesses  and  differences  that  are  simply  less  obvious,  but 
when  noticed  are  fully  accepted  by  the  judgment  of  all  men. 

In  those  sciences  which  are  less  technical  in  their  definitions  and  classifications,  the  points 
of  transition  and  division  are  not  even  suspected.  We  cannot  find  the  place  where  science  in  its 
technical  form  begins  ;  and  formally  takes  its  leave  of  common  knowledge.  In  Psychology, 
Ethics,  Politics,  Law  and  Theology,  common  terms  are  in  a  great  measure  still  retained ;  only 
they  are  employed  with  a  more  careful  definition  and  a  more  exact  application. 

It  does  not  follow,  because  common  and  scientific  knowledge  differ  only 
in  the  degree  of  perfection  with  which  thought  is  conducted,  that 
the  dignity  or  importance  of  science  is  thereby  in  the  least  diminished. 

Science  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  our  analysis  is  simply 

Science     rightly  ° 

conceived    and    Knowledge  by  concepts  carefully  defined  in  order  to  a  complete 
division  and  methodized  arrangement  of  the  things  or  objects 
to  which  these  concepts  are  applicable. 

In  forming  scientific  notions,  the  mind  discovers  relations  and  attributes  which  it  hap, 
never  observed  before.  In  looking  more  patiently,  it  observes  more  closely.  As  it  proceeds 
to  use  and  apply  the  notions  already  attained  in  the  processes  of  deduction  and  induction 
tvhich  are  yet  to  be  explained,  it  discerns  still  other  relations  of  likeness  and  unlikeness. 
Every  new  conclusion  and  generalization  prepares  the  way  for  new  notions  which  involve  new 
propositions  of  content  and  extent.  As  it  proceeds  in  its  triumphant  course  it  still  continues 
Iso  define  and  divide.  It  began  when  it  formed  its  first  proposition  of  content.  This  involved 
a  proposition  of  extent. 


§437.  REASONING. DEDUCTION    OK   MEDIATE   JUDGMENT.  43S 

It  will  have  finished  its  course  and  completed  the  circle  of  its  possible 
triumphs,  when  it  shall  have  exhausted  all  that  is  knowable  by  these 
two  processes,  each  involving  the  other — when  it  shall  have  arranged  all 
its  knowledge  in  systematic  order,  by  a  per  feet  and  subordinated  division 
as  the  result  of  true  and  exhaustive  definitions. 


CHAPTER    YI. 

REASONING. DEDUCTION   OR   MEDIATE   JUDGMENT. 

From  Judgment  we  proceed  to  Reasoning  by  a  natural  and  almost  necessary  transition ;  the 
one  being  but  a  special  application  of  the  other.  Indeed  Reasoning  is  properly  defined 
as  Mediate  or  Indirect  Judgment.  Of  Reasoning  there  are  the  two  universally  recognized 
forms ;  Deduction  and  Induction.  Of  these,  Deduction  as  the  Process  and  the  Syllogism  as 
the  Product  claim  our  first  attention  ;  with  both  we  are  made  familiar  in  books  of  Logic. 
With  the  logical  consideration  of  the  two,  however,  we  need  concern  ourselves  no  furthei 
than  this  may  aid  us  to  understand  the  Psychological  relations  of  both  Process  and  Prod 
uct  as  a  method  and  object  of  knowledge. 

Thus  considered,  Deductive  Reasoning,  as  a  psychological  process,  is  an  important 
topic  in  the  study  of  the  Human  Intellect. 

§  436.  The  process  of  thought  or  mode  of  thinking  which 
importance  of  We  are  naturally  led  to  consider  next  in  order  is  reasoning. 

That  to  reason  is  a  function  of  the  thinking  power  as  defined, 
will  be  questioned  by  none.  By  many  it  is  esteemed  the  special  function 
of  thought.  By  some  it  is  conceived  to  be  its  sole  and  single  function, 
absorbing  all  the  rest  into  itself.  There  have  been  those  who  make  the 
capacity  to  reason,  to  be  the  exclusive  and  distinctive  endowment  of 
man.  Such  have  striven  to  account  for  all  the  other  thought-processes 
by  resolving  them  into  this. 

That  Reasoning  is  a  form  or  mode  of  thinking  is  evident  from  the  fact  that 
Reasoning  is  a  man  reasons  by  the  aid  of  notions,  and  without  concepts  cannot  reason  at 
ing.6  '  all.  The  conclusions  which  he  reaches  as  the  result  of  reasoning,  always 

embrace  at  least  one  such  notion ;  more  usually  they  include  two.  The 
predicate  of  every  demonstrated  Proposition  must  always  be  a  generalized  notion.  The  subject 
is  very  often,  such  a  notion  also. 

in  §  437.  Reasoning,  also,  like  every  other  act  or  mode  01 
voives  j  u  d  er-  knowing,  involves  judgment.  Its  conclusion  is  expressed  in 
a  proposition  or  judgment.  The  material  from  which  thib 
conclusion  is  derived,  and  upon  which  it  depends,  is  judgments.  When 
we  reason, c  this  man  is  a  murderer,  and  therefore  is  not  fit  to  live ' :  or,  £  this 
man  is  not  fit  t)  live,  because  he  is  a  murderer' :  or  when  we  expand  tin* 


440  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  437 

same  argument  into  the  form,  '  no  murderer  is  fit  to  live,  this  man  is  a  mur 
Jerer,  therefore  this  man  is  not  fit  to  live ' :  we  express  the  result  of  the 
process  in  a  judgment,  and  we  use  one  or  more  judgments  in  reaching  it. 
Not  only  does  reasoning  imply  or  involve  judgment,  but  it 
IB  itself  an  act  is  itself  an  act  of  judgment.  It  is  distinguished  from  iudo" 

•f  judgment.  _       _     .  _  *       & 

ment  proper  by  being  mediate  and  indirect ;  whereas  judg- 
ments proper  are  immediate  and  direct. 

immediate    or    Tne  acts  °*  judgment  proper  have  already  been  explained 
mints0 '  judg"    as  acts  i11  wnica  a  general  notion  is  thought  or  affirmed  of 

an  individual  being,  by,  so  to  speak,  direct  inspection 
and  comparison.  The  materials  are  the  beings  or  objects  themselves. 
These  are  compared  and  analyzed  in  the  manner  described.  The  attribute, 
property  or  relation  is  generalized  directly  from  the  objects  to  which  it 
belongs,  and  is  therefore  applied  to  or  judged  of  them.  When,  for  ex- 
ample, we  judge  of  ten  apples,  that  they  are  red,  or  oval,  or  round,  or 
of  equal  or  unequal  weight,  or  of  similar  taste  or  odor,  we  perform  acts 
of  direct  or  immediate  judgment. 

Mediate  or  in-    -^ut  wuen  we  reason  concerning  them,  that  because  they  are 
direct  judg-    re(^  or  similar  in  odor,  therefore  they  taste  alike,  we  judge 

indirectly  or  mediately ;  we  consider,  not  only  the  apples 
themselves,  but  the  relation  of  one  of  their  properties  to  another.  This 
truth  is  implied  though  not  fully  expressed  in  the  remark  that  in  judg- 
ment we  compare  two  notions,  and  discern  or  pronounce  that  the  notions 
agree  or  disagree  ;  whereas  in  reasoning  we  compare  two  judgments,  and 
declare  or  discern  that  the  judgments  agree  or  disagree.  This  statement, 
while  it  does  not  fully  explain  the  nature  of  either  judgment  or  reasoning, 
asserts  truly  that  the  two  processes  are  alike  in  an  important  feature. 

The  same  truth  is  expressed  in  the  assertion  that  hi  judgment  we  discern  a  single  relation 
by  comparison  of  similar  qualities  or  attributes,  whereas  in  reasoning  we  discern  a  similarity 
of  relations  and  by  this  similarity  connect  two  notions  hi  a  single  judgment.  As  every  notion 
is  a  contracted  judgment  and  every  judgment  is  an  expanded  notion;  so  every  judgment  is  a 
contracted  argument,  and  every  argument  is  an  expanded  judgment.  Judgment  and  reasoning 
do  not  differ  so  much  as  processes,  as  in  the  materials  or  conditions  with  or  on  which  the  pro- 
cesses are  performed.  It  is  a  very  superficial  view  of  reasoning,  involving  not  only  defects  but 
eerious  errors,  to  overlook  the  relations  by  which  it  stands  connected  with,  and  as  it  were 
grows  out  of,  judgment.  To  hold  that  to  reason  is  one  mode  of  knowing  and  to  judge  is 
another,  and  that  the  one  goes  before,  and  the  other  follows  after  by  a  necessity  or  dependence 
which  we  cannot  explain,  fails  altogether  to  satisfy  the  mind.  All  who  reflect  enough  to  ask 
the  question  believe  that  the  relation  between  the  two  is  more  vital  and  intimate.  Cf.  Whe- 
well.  Phil,  of  the  Inductive  Sc'ences.  B.  II.  c.  xi.  §  1,  also  Locke,  Estay,  B.  IY.  c.  ii.  §§  1, 
2 ;  also  Milton,  Par.  Lost,  B.  V.  486-90. 

If  we  distinguish  the  process  of  reasoning  from  the  product  or  result — as  in  the  other 
acts  of  the  intellect — we  should  call  the  first  reasoning  and  the  second  an  argument.  These 
two  terms  are  often  interchanged  for  one  another,  as  in  other  similar  cases ;  and  the  proper 
meaning  of  each  is  not  strictly  adhered  to  in  common  nor  even  in  philosophical  usage.  Thes« 
terms  are  also  usually  and  almost  exclusively  limited  to  deduction. 


§438.  REASONING. — DEDUCTION   OB   MEDIATE  JUDGMENT.  441 

The  process  called  reasoning  is  twofold,  inductive  and  de~ 

Reasoning,  *=* 

inductive    and    ductive.     It  is  known   by  the   two  names,  induction   ana 

deduction.   These  two  are  sufficiently  distinguished  by  the 

following  definitions.     In  deduction  the  mind  begins  with  general  prop- 

ositions    and  reasons  to  those  which  are  particular  or  individual.     In 

induction,  it  reasons  from  individual  or  particular  to  general  judgments, 

In  deduction  we  assume  or  imply  that  fclie  mind  is  already 

The    two  dis-    furnished  with  judgments  or  beliefs  that  are  more  or  less 

tinguisncu.. 

general,  and  proceed  to  found  upon  them  or  derive  from 
them,  those  which  are  particular  or  singular.  In  other  words  we  apply 
the  predicate  of  these  general  propositions  to  a  particular  or  individual, 
which  we  had  not  thought  of  or  known  before.  For  example  :  '  every 
act  of  filial  duty  ought  to  be  performed ;  therefore,  in  choosing  our  busi- 
ness in  life,  we  ought  to  consult  the  wishes  of  our  parents.'  In  induc- 
tion, on  the  contrary,  we  proceed  from  the  singular  or  particular  to 
general  propositions  or  truths.  We  possess  only  individual  facts,  or  less 
general  truths,  and  by  means  of  these  we  know  more  general  truths3 
principles  or  laws.  We  observe  that  one  or  several  pieces  of  iron-ore, 
with  certain  characteristics,  are  magnetic.  We  infer  that  every  similar 
piece  of  iron-ore  is  magnetic.  From  the  individual  and  the  particular 
we  derive  the  general. 

In  deduction  we  begin  with  the  content,  and  we  consider  the  extent  of  the  notion,  bringing 
under  the  latter  particular  or  individual  matter  that  we  had  not  known  before  to  stand  under 
this  relation,  and  we  end  with  uniting  this  content  with  a  new  or  more  limited  notion  of  extent. 

In  induction  we  begin  with  the  extent  of  a  notion,  as  this  or  that  particular  fact  or  truth,  and 
we  connect  it  for  the  first  time  with  a  content  never  affirmed  of  it  before.  Sometimes,  by  this 
means  or  in  this  connection  we  discover  a  content  never  previously  known  or  affirmed,  of  any 
extent.  As  for  example,  in  the  contraction  of  the  leg  of  a  frog  was  discovered  the  galvanic 
power  with  its  laws. 

Both  these  processes  are  called  processes  of  reasoning.  The  means  employed,  i.  e.,  the 
grounds  or  foundations  of  each,  whether  they  are  general  or  particular  propositions  or 
individual  facts,  are  called  reasons,  sometimes  data.  But  to  reason,  par  eminence,  is  to  per- 
form  the  process  of  deduction;  and  reasons  or  grounds  of  belief  are  preeminently  those 
general  principles  or  truths  from  which  we  derive  or  deduce  particular  conclusions.  Hence, 
when  we  use  the  words  to  reason  and  a  reason,  we  are  usually  understood  to  have  in  mind 
the  deductive  process.  On  the  other  hand,  we  say  freely  that  we  reason  by  induction  or 
inductively ;  and  no  phrases  are  more  common  than  inductive  reasoning  and  reasoning  by 
induction. 

The  two  pi«,-  §438-  These  two  processes  are  usually  combined  together  in 
ften  con-  every  case  in  which  our  knowledge  is  enlarged  by  what  we 
call  reasoning.  When  we  use  examples  of  reasoning  for  the 
purpose  of  illustrating  the  nature  of  the  process,  we  seem  to  be  able  to  sep 
arate  deduction  from  induction,  and  to  employ  each  process  separately. 
But  whenever  we  reason  with  the  express  design  of  enlarging  our  knowl- 
edge by  some  addition,  or  of  increasing  our  confidence  in  that  which  we 


442  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §430 

already  have  gained — we  find  that  both  processes  are  called  into  requisi- 
tion. If,  for  example,  we  should  reason  deductively,  to  prove  to  a  person 
who  did  not  already  believe  it,  that  a  particular  act,  as  to  obey  or  perhapp 
to  resist  the  government,  was  obligatory ;  we  should  probably  be  obliged  tc 
use  the  process  of  induction  to  prove  that  such  an  act  was  distinguished  by 
the  characteristics  or  criteria  which  showed  it  to  come  under  the  duties  oi 
a  loyal  citizen.  To  establish  this  satisfactorily,  might  require  another  and 
perhaps  more  than  a  single  process  of  deduction,  but  inductive  processes 
would  also  be  required. 

In  all  cases  of  induction,  also,  when  the  mind  is  first  actually  in  doubt 
and  afterwards  attains  to  satisfaction  and  discovery,  the  process  of  deduc- 
tion is  brought  into  requisition.  We  can  scarcely  suppose  that  Franklin 
established  the  identity  of  lightning  with  machine  electricity,  or  Newton 
reached  the  law  and  the  fact  of  universal  gravitation,  without  asking 
themselves  many  times  over  what  would  be  the  conseqyents  in  fact,  if 
either  of  these  were  truths ;  that  they  might  be  able  to  decide  by  the 
verification  of  experiment,  whether  these  deduced  consequents  were 
true.  We  know  that  Sir  Isaac  Newton  drew  certain  inferences  from  the 
supposition  that  the  law  of  gravitation  was  true,  when  combined  with  9 
false  datum  in  respect  to  the  earth's  diameter ;  and  because  observed  facto 
did  not  coincide  with  the  theory,  he  rejected  or  held  in  suspense  the  theory 
which  his  so-called  induction  had  already  reached. 

Induction,  and  Deduction  like  the  Analysis  and  Synthesis  of  which  they  are 
Often  very  inti-  special  forms,  accompany  each  other  in  all  the  higher  processes  of  thought, 
mately  blended,  ^he  ^Wo  blend  together  so  intimately  that  it  is  often  difficult  to  sever  them,  or  to 

find  or  trace  the  tine  where  the  one  begins  and  the  other  terminates.  They 
run  together  so  readily  and  are  so  intimately  united,  that  it  is  often  hard  to  decide  whether  the 
process  is  inductive  or  deductive,  because  it  is  difficult  to  decide  with  which  the  mind  begins — 
the  particular  or  the  general,  or  whether  both  these  relations  are  not  considered  together. 

8  439.  Reasoning:,  in  both  these  forms,  is  an  act  or  mode  of 

Reasoning,     an     » 

act  of  knowledge    knowledge.     It  is  also  more  specially  defined  as  an  act  or 

and  of  thoT^ght. 

mode  of  thinking.  As  an  act  of  thought  it  is  required  that 
its  object-matter  or  material  should  be  notions  or  concepts.  But  an  act 
of  knowledge  has  been  defined  as  involving,  not  only  the  apprehension 
that  special  objects  are  or  exist,  but  that  they  exist  in  certain  relations. 
The  object-matter  of  reasoning  being  concepts  or  objects  as  notionized, 
it  remains  to  consider  what  are  the  relations  under  which  these  are 
known  in  reasoning.  This  inquiry  has  in  part  been  answered.  To  reason, 
is  to  know  objects  by  means  of  or  in  relation  to  their  reasons  or  grounds. 
In  other  words,  to  reason  is  to  discover  or  apply  reasons  for  what  we 
discover  or  already  believe  to  be  true.  These  definitions  and  explanations 
must  suffice  concerning  reasoning  in  general ;  they  serve  to  prepare  for  and 
introduce  the  particular  consideration  of  each  of  its  forms.  We  begin 
with — 


§441.  REASONING.  -  DEDUCTION    OR   MEDIATE   JUDGMENT.  443 

Deduction  and  the  Syllogism. 

§  440.  There  is  a  general  agreement  of  opinion  in  respect  to  the  views  which 

Agreement  and    have  thus  far  been  expressed.     The  propositions  which  we  have  laid  down 

differences       of 

opinion.  would  be  generally  assented  to.     It  is  true,  they  would  be  somewhat  variously 

interpreted  and  explained  according  to  the  special  system  or  school  of  opinion 
in  metaphysics  and  psychology  to  which  the  interpreter  belonged,  but  the  propositions  them- 
selves would  command  almost  universal  assent.  But  when  we  come  to  a  more  precise  and 
accurate  theory  of  Deduction  and  Induction,  we  find  great  vagueness  as  well  as  great  diversity 
of  opinion.  We  cannot  excuse  ourselves  for  this  reason  from  the  attempt  to  ascertain  and  vindi- 
cate the  true  theory  of  each.  We  are  compelled  to  make  a  critical  and  separate  consideration 
of  these  two  processes,  and  of  the  forms  of  language  hi  which  they  are  recorded  and  expressed. 
It  should  here  be  premised  that  our  point  of  view  is  primarily  psychological 
and  not  logical  or  metaphysical.  We  are  directly  concerned  with  the  inquiry 


not  lopical  or  *  What  are  the  intellectual  processes  which  we  actually  perform  when  we 
reason  ?  '  The  answer  to  this  question  does  indeed  involve  the  development 
and  determination  of  the  objects  with  which  the  process  is  concerned  and  the  relations  which 
it  pro-supposes;  and,  in  so  far,  it  implies  logical  and  speculative  discussions.  But  logic  dis- 
cusses reasoning,  and  especially  deduction  and  the  syllogism,  for  other  ends  than  to  ascertain 
the  psychology  of  the  process  and  the  consequent  nature  of  the  product  which  it  educes  or 
creates.  It  considers  them  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  the  rules  and  criteria  which 
guide  to  correct,  and  secure  against  false  reasoning.  It  analyzes  and  studies  the  various  forms 
of  language  in  which  valid  and  invalid  syllogisms  can  possibly  be  phrased  or  expressed,  for  the 
purpose  of  showing  the  relation  of  the  one  to  the  other  so  as  to  aid  the  reasoner  in  securing 
himself  and  in  guarding  others  against  fallacious  and  sophistical  arguments.  The  metaphysical 
consideration  of  reasoning  goes  still  farther.  It  analyzes  and  evolves  the  original  conceptions 
and  primary  truths  which  reasoning  pre-supposes,  and  on  which  its  authority  rests.  Psychol- 
ogy does  both  of  these  indirectly  but  does  neither  primarily  and  confessedly.  It  is  chiefly 
concerned  with  what  the  intellect  consciously  performs  and  produces,  and  the  treatment  of  the 
conditions  and  objects  which  our  subjective  processes  presuppose  and  evolve. 

§  441.    Our  chief  inquiry  is,  what  is  the  proper  conception  of 
the  deductive  as  an  intellectual  process;  and  incidental  to 
this,  what  is  the  nature  and  what  the  results  of  the  product 
which  it  evolves.    Perhaps  we  can  answer  this  question  most  satisfactorily 
if  we  consider  first  of  all,  the  forms  of  language  in  which  the  process  is 
expressed  and  its  results  are  preserved. 

These  forms  are  two,  the  Enthymeme  and  the  Syllogism,  or  the 

The  enthymeme  .         _  '  y  , 

and  the   syiio-   abbreviated  ana  the  expanded  syllogism.  I  he  enthymeme  con- 

sists of  two  expressed  propositions,  which  are  connected  by  be 

cause  or  therefore.  The  syllogism  consists  of  three,  of  which  the  first  two  are 

simple  assertions,  and  the  third  is  introduced  by  therefore.    For  example,  M 

•>•<»  /-»  <     vsnrper      ?    t'hprpffvrp  7)f>   \cannotex0ctobtdience)    f)V    ~\f  $  cannot  exact  allegiance  I 

18  a  \  lawful  ruler  \  "  vrejw       m  j    ouffht  ^  be  obeyed    \    or  JXL   j      ought  to  be  oleyed     j. 
because  he  is  j  a  iwfuiruier  \  are  examples  of  the  two  forms  of  the  enthy- 

moTrm          i     No  usurper  can  require  allegiance       )      IVT      is     j     a  usurper      )       thprpfrvrp     M 

meme.      j  Every  ]awHM  ruler  £ught  to  b8e  obeyed  f    ^A    •  •    -j  a  lawful  Fruler  J- 
<  caniiot^equu-e  allegiance  j.  are  examples  of  the  expanded  syllogism. 

In  the  enthymeme^  the  first  proposition  may  be  either  the  conclusion, 
or  it  may  be  the  reason.    In  the  syllogism,  the  first  proposition  is  called 


444  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §442, 

the  major  premise',  the  second,  the  minor  premise;  and  the  third,  the  con* 
elusion. 

The  two  premises  of  every  syllogism  must  have  one  term 
term,  its  sigm-  common  to  both,  which  is  called  the  middle  term.  In  the  ex- 
amples given — lawful  ruler  and  usurper  are  the  middle  terms 
respectively  of  the  two  syllogisms.  Unless  there  is  this  middle  term,  there 
ie  no  force  or  convincing  power  in  the  argument.  It  is  obvious  that  if 
we  substitute  any  other  term  in  either  premise  so  as  to  introduce  two 
middle  terms,  there  is  nothing  to  lead  to  a  conclusion.  If  we  substitute 
a  worthy  or  unworthy  person  for  lawful  ruler  or  usurper,  no  conclusion 
will  follow. 

Every  enthymeme  can  be  expanded  into  a  syllogism.  The  syllogism  when  expanded 
expresses  in  separate  propositions  the  truths  which  the  enthymeme  implies.  There  is  in 
every  enthymeme  the  suppressed  premise  of  a  syllogism.  When  we  reason  in  the  examples 
given,  M  is  a  lawful  ruler,  therefore  he  ought  to  be  obeyed,  or  M  ought  to  be  obeyed  because 
he  is  the  lawful  ruler,  we  believe  and  imply  in  the  argument — though  we  do  not  assert — that 
every  lawful  ruler  ought  to  be  obeyed.  This  is  the  major  Premise  of  the  syllogism  into  which 
the  enthymeme  is  by  this  addition  naturally  expanded.  The  difference  between  the  enthymeme 
and  the  syllogism  is  only  a  difference  between  a  contracted  and  an  expanded  form  of  expres- 
sion; or  between  an  elliptical  and  a  fully  explicated  sentence.  It  is  a  difference  of  language 
only,  and  uot  in  the  least  a  difference  of  thought  or  of  the  relations  of  thought  or  knowl- 
edge ;  what  is  expressed  in  one  being  implied  in  the  other. 

§  442.  It  has  been  earnestly  disputed  whether  the  syllogism  is 

IB  the  syllogism     jL  „     ,  %         . 

a  or  the  form  of    the  form  proper  to  all  deductive   reasoning  or  only  a  form 

deduction?  .   f     .*  .  ,  J. 

after  which  all  such  reasoning  may  be  conducted  and  in  which 
it  may  be  expressed.  Thus,  Principal  Campbell  in  his  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric. 
contends  that  the  syllogistic  is  only  one  of  the  possible  methods  of  reason- 
ing, while  there  are  others  which  are  in  many  cases  greatly  to  be  preferred 
to  this;  and  J.  S.  Mill,  in  his  Logic,  urges  that  it  is  not  a  form  of  reasoning 
at  all,  but  a  convenient  expedient  for  recording  and  referring  to  our  experi- 
ence of  particular  or  individual  cases.  It  is  obvious  for  the  reasons 
already  given,  that  it  is  a  form  into  which  all  deductive  reasoning  may  be 
phrased,  and  it  is  the  one  and  the  only  form  in  which  all  the  materials 
considered  and  the  relations  involved  are  fully  stated  in  language.  We 
concede  that  it  is  a  form  of  linguistic  expression  or  phraseology,  but  it  is  the 
form  appropriate  to  deduction, because  it  brings  out  in  language  all  that 
is  thought  in  the  mind.  When  for  example  we  supply  the  premise  that 
had  been  suppressed  in  the  enthymeme,  we  do  not  add  that  which  is 
superfluous  to  the  process  through  which  we  have  gone  or  to  the  argu 
ment  which  the  process  implied.  We  simply  express  in  language  what 
we  had  thought  or  were  ready  to  think  in  fact — that  which  if  we  bad  not 
believed  when  we  drew  our  conclusion,  we  should  not  have  reached  it 
at  all.  Thus,  if  we  did  not  belisve  that  all  lawful  rulers  ought  to  b€ 
obeyed,  we  could  not  reach  the  inference  that  M  ought  to  be  obeyed  be- 


§443.  .REASONING. DEDUCTION    OR   MEDIATE    JUDGMENT.  445 

cause  he  is  the  lawful  ruler.  We  conclude  therefore  that  the  correct 
view  of  the  syllogism  is,  that  while  it  is  not  essential  that  any  process  of 
deduction  should  be  stated  in  this  form  in  order  to  be  valid,  yet  this  is 
the  form  in  which  every  such  process  must  be  expressed  when  it  if 
fully  expanded  in  language. 

Again  ;  In  the  syllogism  the  process  of  reasoning  is  fully  expanded  and  com- 
eompieted  pro-  plete.  It  cannot  be  enlarged  or  extended  into  any  form  which  is  more 
ofSdeSictk>ndUCt  complex.  Any  additional  propositions,  whether  connected  with  either  of  the 

premises  or  with  the  conclusion,  are  seen  at  once  to  be  a  premise  or  a  conclu- 
sion of  another  process.  If  for  example  we  enlarge  the  premise,  '  all  lawful  rulers  ought  to  be 
obeyed,'  by  the  reason  *  because  it  is  the  will  of  God,  or  an  obvious  duty,'  we  find  ourselves  per- 
forming an  additional  process  of  reasoning,  the  object  of  which  is  to  prove  that  the  first 
premise  is  correct.  If  we  add  a  reason  for  holding  that  M  is  a  lawful  ruler,  as  '  because  he  haa 
been  properly  commissioned  or  fairly  elected,'  we  do  the  same  for  the  second  premise.  If  we 
annex  to  the  conclusion  an  additional  remark,  as  therefore  M  ought  to  be  obeyed,  and  to  dis- 
obey him  is  a  serious  crime,'  we  simply  introduce  a  second  conclusion,  which  requires  another 
argument  to  support  it. 

possible  changes  ^ver7  argument,  whether  positive  or  negative,  whether  the 
in  the  form  of  propositions  are  universal  or  particular,  can  be  expressed  in 

the  syllogism.          r      r  r  . 

the  form  which  has  already  been  stated,  by  changes  in  the 
phraseology  or  the  position  of  the  terms,  without  affecting  the  sense  or  the 
force  of  the  argument. 

This  is  demonstrated  at  length  in  every  treatise  on  formal  logic.  A  few  examples  will 
suffice  for  our  purpose.  If  we  make  the  first  premise  negative  by  substituting  '  no  lawful  ruler 
should  be  disobeyed,'  the  real  nature  of  the  argument  is  not  changed.  The  same  is  true  if  in 
the  second  premise  we  substitute  'some  persons,'  or  use  a  part  of  a  class  as  an  equivalent  to  a 
smaller  whole. 

If  we  change  the  form  of  the  first  premise  by  inverting  the  order  of  the  terms  or  by  con- 
verting it,  which  we  can  do  with  the  negative  premise  and  retain  its  full  meaning,  we  bring 
the  middle  term  into  the  predicate  of  each  of  the  premises  ;  but  the  argument  and  its  power 
to  prove  a  conclusion  are  the  same. 

If  we  convert  hi  a  similar  way  the  second,  or  minor  premise,  it  brings  the  middle  term  into 
the  subject  of  each  premise,  but  this  does  not  alter  the  strength  of  the  argument. 

If  we  transpose  the  order  of  the  premises,  the  relations  of  each  part  to  the  conclusion  is 
the  same,  whatever  may  be  the  order  in  which  the  two  are  uttered.  These  are  the  only 
changes  possible  hi  the  mutual  relation  of  the  parts  of  the  syllogism,  but  none  of  these 
affect  the  nature  or  force  of  the  argument. 

§  443.    We  may  therefore  safely  conclude  that  the  form  of 
queotion  propos-    the  syllogism  which  we  have  first  stated  is  as  good  as  any 
other  to  illustrate  and  exemplify  the  nature  of  the  process  of 
reasoning. 

We  proceed  therefore  to  inquire,  what  does  the  analysis  of  the  syllogistic 
form  teach  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  deduction  as  a  psychological 
process.  As  it  is  a  fall  expression  or  expansion  in  language  of  all  the 
materials  required  and  all  the  relations  involved  in  an  act  of  reasoning 


446  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §443 

no  way  can  be  so  satisfactory  and  decisive  of  knowing  what  it  is  to  rea- 
son, as  to  analyze  the  syllogism. 

We  find  first  of  all,  that  in  every  syllogism  the  force  of  rea. 

soning  depends  on  what  is  called  the  middle  term.    We  have 

already  observed  that  in  every  convincing  syllogism  one 
term  must  be  used  twice.  Not  only  is  this  necessary,  but  this  term  must 
stand  in  a  fixed  relation  to  each  of  the  remaining  terms,  or  no  conclusion 
can  be  reached. 

That  relation  is  indicated  by  the  maxim  announced  by 
Arfstoti!?"11  °f  Aristotle,  which  is  usually  called  the  dictum  de  omni  et  nullo. 

It  is  as  follows :  whatever  is  predicated  of  a  class  either 
affirmatively  or  negatively,  may  be  affirmed  of  whatever  is  contained  M  or 
under  the  class. 

The  original  passage  in  Aristotle,  upon  which  the  dictum  is  founded,  is  the  following :  'Oaa  Kara,  rov 
jeaTTryopovjaeVov  Xeyerai,  rravra  KO.I  Kara.  TOW  UTroxei/neVou  pS}0>j<reTai.  (Ca£.,  C.  V.  p.  3,  6  4) ;  cf.  Analyt.  prior, 
I.  27,  p.  43  a  25 ;  I.  28,  p.  43  6  39.  Top.  IV.  I.  p.  121  a  25.  We  subjoin  the  following  note  of  Trendelen- 
bnrg.  Idem  prseceptum  quasi  syllogismorum  fundamentum  poster!  ores  logici  varie  extulerunt  aut  in  huno 
modum :  nota  notae  est  etiam  nota  rei,  repugnans  notse  repugnat  etiam  rei,  (nota  autem  nihil  fere  aliud 
qunm  prsedicatum,)  aut  in  hunc  modum  :  quidquid  de  omnibus  valet,  valet  etiam  de  quibusdam  et  singu- 
lis ;  quidquid  de  nullo  valet,  nee  de  quibusdam  et  singulis  valet.  (Elem.  Log.  Arist.,  p.  89). 

The  middle  term  like  every  concept,  stands  to  other  notions  in  the  two  relations  of  extent 
and  content.  'A  notion  that  is  or  is  not  in  this  extent,  mayor  may  not  take  to  itself  the  notion 
which  is  its  content.'  This  last  formula  has  the  advantage  of  stating  concisely  both  the 
likeness  and  the  difference  between  an  act  of  judgment  and  an  act  of  reasoning.  In  an  act  of 
judgment,  as  we  have  seen,  a  concept  may  be  expanded  either  in  the  direction  of  its  extent  or 
of  its  content.  So  far  as  the  single  act  of  judgment  is  concerned,  the  notion  is  viewed  in  only 
one  relation,  that  of  its  extent  or  of  its  content,  as  the  case  may  be.  In  an  act  of  reasoning,  a 
notion,  i.  e.,  the  middle  term,  is  viewed  in  both  these  relations  at  once,  as  it  were,  and  the  result 
is  that  a  relation  is  observed  between  notions,  where  it  had  not  been  discerned  before. 

"We  set  aside,  as  not  material  to  our  purpose,  the  special  construction  of  the  syllogism  pro- 
posed by  Hamilton  {Met.  Lee.  37),  by  which  the  relations  of  content  are  resolved  into 
The   maxim   of     those  of  extent,  and  the  maxim  de  omni  et  nullo  is  displaced  by  the  following  maxim ; 
Hamilton.  i  whatever  is  a  part  of  a  part,  is  a  part  of  its  containing  whole.'    We  grant  that  it  is 

possible  to  contemplate  and  express  the  relations  of  content  always  as  those  of  extent. 
In  the  example,  all  lawful  rulers  ought  to  be  obeyed,  we  may  say,  the  concept,  all  lawful  rulers,  is  a  part  of  the 
notion,  ought  to  be  obeyed,  and  M  is  a  part  of  all  lawful  rulers,  therefore  M  is  a  part  of  the  containing  whole 
ought  to  be  obeyed.  To  express  every  syllogism  in  the  language  and  under  the  relations  of  quantity  may 
or  may  not  be  convenient  for  any  proposed  logical  analysis,  but  it  does  not  set  aside  the  relations  of  qualrfcy, 
and  their  importance  to  the  act  of  reasoning.  The  distinction  still  remains  between  the  attribute  or  prop- 
erty, and  being  or  substance ;  on  which,  as  we  have  seen,  rests  all  the  possibility  of  forming  the  notion, 
and  of  using  it  in  judgment. 

But  whether  we  adopt  the  maxim  of  Aristotle  or  the  maxim  of  Hamilton,  it  is  all  the  same  with  our 
view  of  the  middle  term  of  the  syllogism.  It  stil!  remains  fixed  that  the  middle  term  must  be  compre- 
hended under,  or  excluded  from,  another  general  term,  in  order  that  a  conclusion  may  be  reached. 

The  theory  of  the  syllogism  which  founds  the  conclusion  on  the  relation  of  agree- 
Dictum  of  agree-  metit  between  the  terms  is  nearly  allied  to  that  of  Hamilton.  According  to  this  view 
ment  or  n  o  n  -  the  major  and  minor  terms  are  conceived  to  agree  (or  not  to  agree)  with  the  middle  term, 
the'term16  an(*  conse(luen^y  *°  aoree  with  one  another.  What  is  meant  by  to  agree  with,  is  not 

very  clpar,  unless  the  terms  denote  mathematical  quantities,  and  the  parts  of  syllogisms 
are  resolved  into  a  series  01  equations.  If,  however,  the  phrase  mean  to  be  interchangeable  in  the  conver- 
sion of  propositions,  then ,  we  have  the  theory  of  Hamilton,  whose  chief  object  seems  to  have  been  to  iev-s< 


§444.  REASONING. — DEDUCTION    OR   MEDIATE   JUDGMENT.  447 

an  analysis  of  the  syllogism  which  should  dispense  with  the  necessity  of   conversion  and  reduction 
(cf.  Log.,  App.  V.  and  X.). 

Aujther  theory,  founded  on  the  interchangeableness  of  the  terms,  makes  reasoning  to 
be  a  process  by  which  we  are  justified  in  substituting  one  term  for  another.      For  es» 
B^~     ample'   A11  men  are   mortal»    etc-j     signifies  :    Wherever  you  find  man,    you   can 
substitute  or  read  mortal :   "Wherever  you  find  Peter,   you  can  read   man  ;  therefore 
wherever  you  find  Peter,  you  can  read  or  substitute  mortal    Both  these  views  present, 
m  principle,  nothing  new.    They  are  founded  on  mathematical  relations,  from  which  the  illustrations 
and  language  are  both  derived. 

J.  S.  Mill  urges  that  the  relation  of  the  general  to  the  particular  is  a  mere  accident  it 
Dictum  of  J.  S.  the  syllogism  ;  that  we  reason  from  the  particular  [the  individual]  to  the  particular  [the 
Mill.  individual] ;  that  the  use  of  general  propositions  is  a  mere  matter  of  convenience,  in  sc 

far  as  it  enables  us  to  refer,  in  a  convenient  form,  to  some  of  our  experiences  in  the  past, 
Rnd  to  apply  any  one  of  them  to  the  individual  present.  For  example,  it  is  in  no  way  essential  to  the  con- 
clusion, that  we  be  able  to  state  all  lawful  rulers  ought  to  be  obeyed,  for  we  should  reason  that  M  ought  to 
be  obeyed,  from  any  single  example  of  a  lawful  ruler  who  ought  to  command  obedience.  "  If,  from  our 
experience  of  John,  Thomas,  etc.,  who  once  were  living,  but  are  now  dead,  we  are  entitled  to  con- 
clude that  all  human  beings  are  mortal,  we  might  surely,  without  any  logical  inconsequence,  have  con 
eluded  at  once  from  these  instances,  that  the  Duke  of  Wellington  is  mortal.  The  mortality  of  John, 
Thomas,  and  company,  is,  after  all,  the  whole  evidence  we  have  of  the  mortality  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington. 
Not  one  iota  is  added  to  the  proof  by  interpolating  a  general  proposition.'1  "Not  only  may  we  reason 
from  particulars  to  particulars,  without  passing  through  generals,  but  we  perpetually  do  so  reason.  All 
our  earliest  inferences  are  of  this  nature.  The  child  who,  having  burnt  his  fingers,  avoids  to  thrust  them 
again  into  the  fire,  has  reasoned  or  inferred,  though  he  has  never  thought  of  the  general  maxim,  fire 
burns.  *  *  *  He  is  not  generalizing ;  he  is  inferring  a  particular  from  particulars.  *  *  *  From  the 
considerations  now  adduced,  the  following  conclusions  seem  to  be  established  :  All  inference  is  from  parti- 
culars to  particulars  ;  general  propositions  are  merely  registers  of  such  inferences  already  made,  and  short 
formulae  for  making  more.  The  major  premise  of  a  syllogism,  consequently,  is  a  formula  of  this  description, 
and  the  conclusion  is  not  an  inference  drawn  from  the  formula,  but  an  inference  drawn  according  to  the 
formula,  the  real  logical  antecedent  or  premises  being  the  particular  facts  from  which  the  general 
proposition  was  collected  by  induction."  (Logic,  B.  II.  c.  3,  §§  3,  4.  Cf.  Locke  Essay,  B.  IV.  c.  17,  §8.) 

The  doctrine  of  Mill  is  just  at  the  opposite  extreme  from  the  doctrine  of  Hamilton. 
How  related  to  Hamilton  makes  the  syllogism  and  deduction  to  depend  solely  on  the  relations  of  ex- 
the  dictum  of  tent.  Mill  excludes  these  altogether,  and  makes  the  relations  of  content  to  be  sufficient 
and  sole.  "  The  major  premise,  which,  as  already  remarked,  is  always  universal, 
asserts,  that  all  things  which  have  a  certain  attribute  (or  attributes;  have,  or  have  not, 
along  with  it,  a  certain  other  attribute  (or  attributes).  The  minor  premise  asserts  that  the  thing  or  set  of 
things  which  are  the  subject  of  that  premise,  have  the  first-mentioned  attribute;  and  the  conclusion  is, 
that  they  have,  or  that  they  have  not  the  second.  Thus,  in  our  former  example,  all  men  are  mortal, 
Socrates  is  a  man,  therefore  Socrates  is  mortal,  the  subject  and  predicate  of  the  major  premise  are  connota- 
tive  terms,  denoting  objects  and  connoting  attributes.  The  assertion  in  the  major  premise  is,  that  along 
with  one  of  the  two  sets  of  attributes  we  always  find  the  others ;  that  the  attributes  connoted  by  man  never 
exist  unless  conjoined  with  the  attribute  called  mortality.  The  assertion  in  the  minor  premise  is,  that  the 
individual  named  Socrates  possessed  the  former  attributes  ;  and  it  is  concluded  that  he  possesses  also  the 
attribute  mortality,"  etc.,  etc.  Logic,  B.  II.  c.  2,  §  3. 

It  is  rather  singular  that  Mill  should  have  overlooked  the  fact  that  many  of  the  scholastics  adopted 
precisely  the  maxim  which  he  propounds,  without  dreaming  that  they  introduced  a  principle  inconsistent 
with  the  dictum  de  omni  et  nullo.  The  maxim,  Nota  notse  est  etiam  nota  rei,  repugnans  notes  repuffnat 
etiam  rei,  is  exactly  coincident  with  the  maxim  of  Mill.  Cf.  Twesten.,  LogiJc  insbesondere  die  Analytic,  1825, 
5§  105  and  152.  Trendelenburg,  in  the  passage  cited  (§  443),  affirms  that  the  two  maxims  coincide. 

We  proceed  to  affirm  that 

8  444.  The  relations  of  a  part  to  a  whole,  or  of  both  extent 

None    of   these     »  *  i '  . 

dicta  satisfac-  an(j  content  combined,  do  not  give  to  the  premises  ot  the 
syllogism  the  power  of  demonstration.  They  suggest  but 
do  not  express  the  relation  which  furnishes  to  the  deductive  process  its 
convincing  power  over  the  mind.  While  it  is  necessary  that  in  every  syllo- 
gism the  relations  of  part  to  the  whole  should  be  expressed  ;  yet  this  is 
not  the  relation  which  gives  to  the  deductive  process  its  importance  as 
a  method  of  knowledge.  No  syllogism  is  valid  to  which  the  dictum  <U 


448  THE   HUMA.N    INTELLECT.  §437 

omni  et  nuUo  cannot  be  applied,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  the  maxim 
contains  the  real  ground  of  our  faith  in  the  process  which  the  syllogism 
expresses  in  language.  It  may  be  taken  as  a  decisive  criterion  and  suffi- 
cient rule  by  which  to  judge  whether  a  syllogism  is  conclusive  or  fallacious, 
and  yet  only  suggest  without  expressing  what  actually  influences  the  mind 
to  accept  the  conclusion.  The  relations,  of  both  major  and  minor 
terms  to  the  extent  and  the  content  of  the  middle,  may  be  the  only  rela- 
tions that  are  expressed  in  language,  and  yet  not  furnish  the  real  relation 
which  leads  to  our  belief  or  knowledge.  The  rule  de  omni  et  nullo  may 
test  every  syllogism  without  stating  the  relations  on  which  the  argument 
rests  for  its  force  to  compel  assent. 

In  point  of  fact,  every  attempt  to  explain  the  deductive  processes  such,  by  these  relations, 
has  failed,  and  the  failure  of  these  attempts  has  perpetually  exposed  the  doctrine  of  the  Syl- 
logism to  suspicion  and  contempt.  Cf.  Locke,  Essay,  B.  IV.  Chap.  17,  §  §  4-8  ;  G.  Campbell, 
Phil  of  Rhetoric,  B.  I.  Chap.  6  ;  D.  Stewart,  Elements,  P.  II.  Chaps.  2,  3  &  4 ;  J.  S.  Mill, 
System  of  Logic,  B.  II.  Chap.  3 ;  S.  Bailey,  Theory  of  Reasoning. 

The  objection  usually  urged  against  this  construction  of  the  Syllogism  and  the 
The  Syllogism  deductive  process,  is  that  they  involve  a  petitio  principii  either  in  one  of  the 
principii.  premises  or  in  the  conclusion,  making  the  process  to  be  either  a  needless 

repetition  of  what  is  already  known  or  a  trifling  explication  of  what  was 
obviously  implied.  For  example,  it  is  said  by  some,  we  cannot  already  know  that  every  lawful 
ruler  ought  to  be  obeyed,  unless  we  have  considered  the  case  of  every  particular  ruler,  past, 
present  and  future.  But  if  we  have  done  this  we  have  already  considered  and  assented  to  the 
conclusion  that  M  (one  of  the  cases)  ought  to  be  obeyed,  and  it  is  useless  to  prove  it  by  a 
process  of  deduction. 

To  this  it  is  replied,  that  we  rarely  if  ever  obtain  our  knowledge  of  what  is  true  of  a  whole 
class,  by  the  observation  or  experience  of  what  is  true  of  each  individual  included  under  or 
within  it.  We  do  not  obtain  our  knowledge  of  any  whole,  by  an  enumeration  and  summation 
of  what  is  true  of  each  of  its  parts,  but  by  the  process  of  induction,  through  which  we  gather 
or  are  led  to  believe  that  what  is  time  in  a  limited  observation  of  a  few  individuals,  is  true  of 
the  whole  class. 

But  let  this  be  granted,  and  it  follows  that  the  Syllogism  and  the  deductive 
The  Syllogism  process  rests  upon,  and  is  but  another  name  for,  induction.  This  view  of  the 
with  induction!1  Syllogism  is  taken  and  earnestly  defended  by  /.  S.  Mill.  But  this  involves  the 

conclusion  that  the  deductive  process  is  a  mere  matter  of  form,  and  that  demon- 
stration and  argument  are  superfluous ;  that  processes  for  proof  are  matters  of  convenience  or 
of  form,  and  that  the  Syllogism  is  useful  only  as  an  exercise  for  ingenuity  or  a  discipline  to  dex- 
terity in  analysis  and  acumen.  It  is  obvious  that  if  induction  gives  the  major  premise  in  the 
form  of  an  assertion  of  a  whole  class,  as  that  all  lawful  rulers  ought  to  be  obeyed,  then  it  ia 
mere  trifling  to  add  that  M  is  of  this  class  in  order  to  prove  that  he  ought  to  be  obeyed.  For 
as  soon  as  we  recognize  that  he  belongs  to  this  class,  we  must  know  at  once  that  he  ought  to 
be  obeyed  without  the  form  or  process  of  proof. 

This  last  does  not  follow  of  necessity,  as  we  shall  show  in  its  place  (§  463),  for  we  might 
know  these  truths  or  facts  without  having  our  attention  called  to  the  relation  which  subsists 
between  them.  To  direct  the  attention  to  this  unnoticed  and  unthought-of  relation, 
might  be  the  simple  and  sob  object  of  the  deductive  process,  and  the  importance  and 
difficulty  of  doing  this  might  be  quite  sufficient  to  explain  the  necessity  of  deduction  as  a 
separate  process. 


§445.  KEASONl-NG. -UKUUCTJLO.N    UK   MEDIATE   JUDGMENT.  449 

The  real  error  or  defect  consists  in  making  the  essence  or  import  of  both 
Class  relations  induction  and  deduction  to  consist  in  classification  and  the  apprehension  of 
cither  process"  class  relations.  If  induction  consists  only  or  chiefly  in  establishing  general 

facts  by  extended  observation,  then  deduction  must  by  conseauence  signify 
the  recognition  of  what  must  already  have  been  known  in  the  formation  of  the  class.  If 
induction  is  a  synthesis  of  individuals  into  a  comprehensive  whole,  then  deduction  must  be  an 
analysis  of  this  whole  into  its  parts.  If  the  synthesis  has  been  carefully  made,  then  the 
analysis  is  unnecessary  because  it  is  superfluous.  According  to  this  view  of  the  two  processes 
deduction  is  only  subsidiary  to  induction,  and  when  we  seem  to  perform  the  process  of 
demonstration  or  proof,  it  is  the  inductive  and  not  the  deductive  element  which  gives  it  any 
value  or  force. 

To  the  objection  that  deduction  involves  a  petitio  principii  and  is  there- 
Whately's  doc-  fore  superfluous  and  without  meaning  or  force,  Whately,  (Logic,  B.  IT.,  Ch. 
Syl'logism.  2,  §  1,)  replies  by  admitting  that  the  conclusion  is  virtually  contained  or 

implied  in  the  premises  ;  but  '  it  does  not  follow  that  the  deductive  process  ia 
therefore  superfluous,  inasmuch  as  it  may  be  necessary  to  develop  or  draw  out  that  which  is 
already  implied  or  folded  up  in  the  premises.'  This  reply  is  to  the  point,  and  contains  an  im- 
portant truth.  But  this  truth  is  not  consistent  with  that  superficial  view  of  induction  which 
makes  it  to  consist  of  the  synthesis  of  many  individuals  into  a  class.  It  is  not  easy  to  see  how 
any  fact  or  truth  can  be  implied  or  virtually  contained,  or  how  it  can  be  folded  and  hidden,  in 
any  proposition  concerning  a  class  that  is  thus  constituted,  or  how  there  can  be  any  thing  to 
develop  or  draw  out  from  it,  which  was  not  already  known. 

§  445.    The  relation  which  is  characteristic  of  the  deductive 

The   relation  of  ,  .  f  , 

reason  to  conse-  process  is  that  ot  a  reason  to  its  consequent,  or  of  a  ground 
to  its  inference.  It  is  by  means  of  this  relation  that  we 
know  objects  in  this  mode  or  form  of  knowledge.  This  relation  is  sug- 
gested to  the  mind  in  many  cases  of  reasoning, — always  in  the  syllogism — 
by  the  relation  of  a  whole  to  a  part,  or  of  a  general  to  a  particular,  but  it  is 
not  therefore  resolvable  into  this  relation,  nor  should  it  be  confounded 
with  it.  When  we  say,  all  magnets  attract  iron  •  this  is  a  magnet  / 
therefore  it  attracts  iron  :  the  word  all  suggests  or  indicates  that  there  is 
some  reason  founded  on  the  nature  or  properties  of  the  magnet,  which 
forces  us  to  believe  that  this  particular  magnet  will  do  the  same.  The 
relation  of  whole  to  a  part  is  stated  as  a  fact,  but  the  fact  indicates  a  rea- 
son, and  it  is  upon  this  last  relation  that  the  necessity  and  the  convincing 
force  of  the  deduction  always  turns.  This  relation  finds  expression  in  lan- 
guage by  because  in  the  enthymeme,  and  by  therefore  in  the  syllogism.  Be- 
cause signifies  lyy  cause  of.  Therefore  means/or,  i.  e.,  on  account  of  that,  viz., 
that  which  had  been  previously  stated  in  the  premises;  there  being  equiv* 
alent  to  the  foregoing.  Both  words  signify  by  reason  of. 

The  relation  of  reason  to  its  consequent  or  conclusion  is  primarily  a  relation 

Is  i»  relation  of    of  concepts  to  concepts,  by  which  we  are  forced  to  connect  one  with  another 

in  rational  dependence  or  combination.     This  relation  of  concepts  to  concepts 

depends  on  the  actual  relation  of  cause  and  effect  between  objects  or  things. 

We  are  able  to  give  reasons  and  to  support  our  knowledge  6y  reasons  because  we  believe  the 

various  objects  and  phenomena  of  the  universe  exist,  and  are  produced  in  dependence  upon 

29 


450  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §446 

one  another.  In  cases  of  reasoning  when  actually  existing  things  are  not  concerned,  with  thei* 
causes  and  laws,  it  will  be  found  that  their  relations,  whether  mathematical  or  logical,  are  treated 
or  regarded  as  causal  agents,  constituting  elements  or  operative  laws,  and  xa  in  this  way  involv- 
ing necessitated  mathematical  or  logical  relations.  (§§  449,  460.) 

§  446.    In  other  words,  and  in  order  to  explain  the  thought- 
Depends  on  the     ' 
relation  of  causes    relation  oi  reason  to  consequent  or  conclusion,  and  the  pro- 

and  laws. 

cess  of  reasoning  m  which  that  relation  is  involved  ;  we 
must  assume  that  every  thing  that  exists  and  takes  place,  whether  in  the 
material  or  spirit  world,  exists  under  the  real  relation  of  causation  or  con- 
stituting elements  and  laws.  Every  phenomenon  and  every  thought-crea- 
tion in  the  universe  exists  by  the  working  of  powers  with  which  finite 
agents  are  endowed  in  obedience  to  fixed  conditions  and  laws,  in  order  to 
accomplish  rational  ends  or  results.  Every  such  existence  is  an  effect ; 
material  things,  spiritual  agents,  nay,  even  mathematical  and  logical  con- 
cepts. The  nature  and  the  constitution  of  these  effects  are  all  explained 
by  the  causes,  conditions,  and  ends,  by,  under,  and  for  which,  they  are 
conceived  to  exist  and  to  act.  All  these  elements,  when  applied  to  ex- 
plain their  existence,  or  to  resolve  or  confirm  our  knowledge  when  we 
seek  explanation  or  proof,  are  called  reasons.  When  such  a  reason  is 
discovered  to  explain  or  account  for  a  fact  or  phenomenon,  the  process  is 
called  induction.  When  it  is  applied  to  give  or  confirm  knowledge  con- 
cerning a  fact  or  truth  in  respect  to  which  the  mind  seeks  to  be  informed  or 
convinced  the  process  is  called  deduction.  To  know  by  either  or  both 
of  these  processes  is  to  know  by  reasons,  i.  e.,  it  is  to  reason,  ratiocinari  ; 
it  is  reasoning,  ratiocinatio. 

But  how  does  a  cause,  law  or  end,  become  a  reason?     In  what  way  is  it  that 

How  does  this    the  mind  finds  in  the  necessary  or  constant  connection  which  exists  between 

Delation  become 

i  Reason.  things,  a  means  to  that  necessitated  knowledge  or  belief  which  is  gained  by 

reasoning  ?  We  answer,  reasoning  itself,  and  deduction  pre-eminently,  is  but 
the  recognition  of  this  relation  as  a  means  to  gain  or  substantiate  knowledge.  For  proof  of 
this  we  appeal  to  the  process  of  reasoning  itself.  In  doing  so,  we  should  not  employ  any 
of  those  trivial  examples  which  occur  in  most  books  of  logic,  but  rather  select  some  example 
of  the  process  of  deduction  when  it  is  of  actual  use,  i.  e.,  when  it  is  employed  to  relieve  the 
mind  from  doubt,  or  to  answer  its  questions  as  to  what  is  true.  We  should  take  a  case  of  knowl- 
edge actually  gained  or  of  doubts  relieved  by  a  process  of  argument.  In  every  such  case  we 
shall  find  that  the  mind  has  no  direct  access  to  the  object  before  it,  but  only  one  that  is 
indirect.  The  knowledge  is  not  immediate  and  intuitive,  and  cannot  be.  It  is  only  the  cause,  the 
effect  or  the  law,  the  end  or  the  means, — one  side  or  term, — to  which  the  mind  has  any  means 
of  access.  But  it  knows  or  may  know  that  under  the  law  of  causation  this  is  necessarily  con- 
nected with  the  other  term.  The  use  of  this  knowledge  for  the  relief  of  doubt  in  the  confirma- 
tion or  the  acquisition  of  faith,  is  reasoning.  When  the  relation  of  causation  is  applied  by  the 
mind  to  this  use  it  constitutes  the  relation  of  reason  and  its  consequent.  The  necessary  connec- 
tion pertaining  to  causation  when  thus  applied  gives  convincing  force  to  deduction.  It  is  this 
discerned  necessary  connection  between  a  cause  and  its  effect,  means  and  end,  etc.  etc.,  which 
is  what  we  call  the  force  of  demonstration  or  deduction. 


§447.  REASONING.— DEDUCTION    OR   MEDIATE   JUDGMENT.  451 

This  is  another  hut  not  unimportant  confirmation  of  the  principle  essential  to  all  sound  philosophy, 
that  the  relations  of  thought  are  but  reflexes  of  the  actual  relations  of  things,  and  thafc  every  logical  process 
pre-supposes  some  faith  or  knowledge  in  real  existence  and  real  truth.    The  modern  tendency  has  been 
to  resolve  the  forms  of  things  into  forms  of  thought.    It  is  e  sential  to  bear  in  mind  that  all  forms  of 
thought  are  but  the  reflexes  of  forms  of  things ;  that  if  we  do  not  begin  with  fundamental  assumptions  or 
beliefs  concerning  things,  we  cannot  explain  even  the  logical  or  thought-processes  on  which  speculation  rests, 
That  the  deductive  process  and  the  syllogism  are  founded  on  the  relation  of  causality 
.         was  distinctly  taught  by  Aristotle.    He  remarks,  Anal.  post.  II.  2  :  TO  /uev  yap  alriov  rt 
tolled    (  '     V-*<rov,  which  means  in  this  connection,  the  middle  term  is  causal  in  its  significance. 

The  entire  passage  is  thus  translated  by  Waitz :  '  quum  omnis  quasstio  jam  in  eo  verse- 
tur,  ut  rei  subjectae  naturam  sive  causam  per  quam  res  ipsa  existat,  vel  ob  quam  aliud 
quid  de  ea  praedicatur,  exploremus,  quam  quidem  causam  terminus  medius  exprimere  debet.'  Ar.  Or.  To  the 
like  effect  is  the  passage,  Anal.  post.  II.  12,  TO  yap  peaov  alnov.  Aristotle  distinguishes  between  the  cause  of 
being  and.  the  cause  of  knowing,  translated  ratio  essendiund  ratio  cognoscendi,  i.  e.,  as  we  have  explained,  be- 
tween the  cause  and  the  reason,  but  he  does  not  show  how  the  one  is  related  to  the  other.  It  has  been  con- 
tended by  many  modern  logicians,  for  this  reason  and  others,  that  in  the  passages  cited  he  may  have  used 
cause  only  in  the  sense  of  reason,  and  that  he  ascribed  to  the  middle  term  causal  efficiency  only  as  meaning 
'  causal  of  the  conclusion  ; '  in  other  words,  as  the  ratio  cognoscendi  in  the  logical  as  distinguished  from  the 
real  sense.  The  illustrations  which  he  employs  prove  the  contrary,  for  they  are  all  taken  from  real  causes 
or  agerts.  Besides,  he  distinguishes  the  causes  which  the  middle  term  denotes  as  those  which  involve  the 
absolute  necessity  of  the  effect,  from  those  which  secure  it  for  the  most  part,  w?  enri  TO  iro\v. 

The  later  Greek  logicians  being  more  occupied  with  the  forms  of  the  syllogism  and  its 
application  to  the  detection  of  fallacies  than  with  its    speculative  foundation  or  its 
The  _  scholastic     philosophical  import,  left  very  much  out  of  view  this  important  hint  of  their  great  mas- 
ter.   The  scholastics  committed  the  double  error  of  believing  that  the  syllogism  was  thn 
sole  instrument  of  acquiring  new  knowledge,  or  of  discovery  properly  so-called,  to  the 
neglect  of  induction,  and  of  supposing  that  the  formal  relations  of  the  syllogism  constituted  and  measured 
all   the   relations  of  things.    Hence  it  was  so  generally  received  in  the  Continental  schools  :   that  tho 
principles  of  identity,  of  contradiction,  and  the  excluded  middle — the  so-called  laws  of  thought — were  the 
only  criteria  of  real  truth  and  actual  knowledge,  and  that  the  process  of  reasoning  itself  could  be  explained 
by  these  axioms.    It  would  be  easy  to  show  how  the  schools  of  Spinoza,  Schelling,  and  Hegel  were  formed 
if  not  founded  upon  this  assumption. 

Leibnitz  is  a  distinguished  and  notable  exception  to  this  nearly  uniform  course  of  specu- 
lation. He  asserts  that,  for  the  purposes  of  philosophy,  besides  the  principle  of  contriw 
6*~  <Jiction  another  is  required,  viz.,  the  principle  of  the  sufficient  reason.  This  is  necessary, 
as  he  asserts  in  one  place,  "in  order  that  a  thing  should  exist,  an  event  should  happen 
or  take  place,  and  that  a  truth  should  be  received."  "Pour  qu'une  chose  existe,  qu'un 
6venement  arrive,  qu'une  veritd  ait  lieu."  LeUres  entre  Leibnitz  et  Clarke,  iv.  §  125.  Cf.  Arist.  Me/,  v.  1. 
§9;  also  Leibnitz,  De.  Sci.f.r,.  Univer.,  Theod.  Parti.  §44.  Monad.  (Princip.  Phil.)  §32.  But  the  principle 
of  the  sufficient  reason  of  Leibnitz  is  explained  and  applied  by  himself  without  discrimination  to  the  causes 
of  actually  existing  phenomena  and  the  reasons  of  demonstrated  iruth.  That  is,  the  ratio  essendi  is  not  dis- 
tinguished from  the  ratio  cognoscenti,  and  of  course  there  is  no  attempt  to  show  the  relation  of  the  one  to 
the  other.  It  is  not  surprising  that  a  principle  so  imperfectly  enounced  did  not  take  a  permanent  place 
in  the  schools  of  philosophy.  Even  "Wolf  himself,  Leibnitz's  professed  disciple  and  expounder  (Onlol. 
§  70sqq.  ;  Met.  §  30  sqq.),  attempts  to  resolve  the  law  of  causation  and  the  sufficient  reason  into  the  law  of 
contradiction.  The  tendency  of  modern  philosophy  has  been  to  consider  the  law  of  the  sufficient  mason  aa 
extra-logical  {Hamilton,  Dis.  p.  608),  or  to  derive  it  in  both  forms  of  real  and  logical'cause,  from  the  relations 
of  concepts  to  concepts,  instead  of  founding  the  ratio  cognoscendi  on  the  ratio  essendi,  i.  e.,  on  the  relations 
of  thing?  ;  thereby  inverting  the  processes  of  nature  and  destroying  confidence  in  the  grounds  of  knowledge 
and  of  faith. 

8  447.  The  conception  of  the  logical  reason  is  wider  in  its 

Trie    reaacji    or 

Around     wider    range  and  application  than  that  of  the  real  cause  on  which 

than    cause    or 

'aw-  it  is  founded.     The  real  cause  is  always  prior  to  the  effect 

which  it  produces.  The  mind  in  apprehending  or  observing  its  actual 
workings,  assumes  or  supposes  the  cause,  in  order  to  observe  or  believe 
in  the  actual  effect.  But  in  applying  this  relation  for  the  purposes  of 
reasoning,  the  mind  may  begin  with  the  effect  and  conclude  to  a  cause,  as 
properly  as  when  it  begins  with  the  cause  and  reasons  to  an  effect.  Either 


452  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  449 

involves  the  other  in  a  connection  of  thought ;  either  can  be  made  to  imply 
the  other  in  the  order  of  deduction  or  reasoning. 

The  reason  and  the  cause  coincide,  when  from  an  actual  cause,  (the  conditions  and  law* 
being  included  or  supposed,)  we  reason  to  the  certainty  or  reality  of  the  effect.  Thus  the  fire 
did  or  will  fall  into  a  vessel  of  gunpowder,  therefore  an  explosion  did  or  will  occur.  They 
diverge,  when  we  reason  from  the  effect  to  the  cause,  or  when  the  effect  is  made  the  reason  for 
our  belief  or  knowledge  of  the  cause  :  as  the  vessel  of  gunpowder  exploded,  therefore  heat  in 
some  form  was  present.  The  known  effect  is  in  this  case  the  reason  for  the  believed  or  proved 
conclusion. 

In  a  similar  way  we  reason  both  forwards  and  backwards  from  the  means  to  the  end  and 
from  the  end  to  the  means,  making  either  the  end  or  the  means  the  reason,  and  the  means  or 
the  end  the  conclusion. 

So  in  moral  action  we  reason  from  the  motives  forward  to  the  act  or  purpose,  and  back- 
ward from  the  act  or  purpose  to  the  impelling  motives,  making  either  the  reason  for  believing 
the  other,  with  such  reservation  as  the  nature  of  their  mutual  activity  requires. 

§  448.  The  distinction  should  also  be  noticed  between  causes 
Relation  of  \  e  powers  and  laws.  Laws  designate  those  permanent 

causes  to  law.  .  .  *' 

circumstances  or  relations  which,  though  not  separate  agents 
themselves,  modify  the  production  of  the  effect,  so  that  with  or  with- 
out these,  the  effect  does  or  does  not  actually  occur,  or  the  energy  of  the 
effect  varies  as  these  circumstances  vary.  The  best  example  of  a  law  as 
distinguished  from  a  cause  or  agent,  is  the  law  of  gravitation — according 
to  which  the  force  varies  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance.  For 
the  purposes  of  reasoning,  however,  the  law  may  be  viewed  as  a  new  or 
varying  cause ;  i.  e.,  the  power  in  question,  e.g.  gravitation,  is  known  or 
manifested  as  a  cause  which  we  can  apply  in  deduction,  so  far  as  or 
when  it  obeys  certain  laws. 

In  order  that  this  may  be  intelligible,  we  observe  that  the  various  conditions  on  which  an 
effect  depends,  may,  when  philosophically  viewed,  be  regarded  as  its  causes.  Thus  to  the 
effect  combustion,  heat  or  a  burning  substance  and  the  fuel  are  both  requisites.  The  heat,  as 
being  able  to  kindle  or  inflame,  is  one  active  agent.  The  capacity  of  the  substance  to  be 
inflamed,  is  another  agency.  Nothing  in  the  universe  is  entirely  passive,  but  that  which  ia 
eminently  active,  is  called  the  cause  par  eminence,  while  that  whose  efficiency  is  less  conspi- 
cious  is  called  the  condition.  Their  joint  product  is  the  effect. 

§  449.  When  we  employ  reasons  to  prove  geometrical  truth, 
Geometrical  we  proceed  in  a  similar  method,  and  the  grounds  of  our 

reasons.  J  ' 

procedure  and  the  consequent  belief,  are  found  in  the 
nature  of  the  product  regarded  as  dependent  on  certain  efficient  or  con- 
stituting elements  which  are  viewed  by  the  mind  as  necessitating  certain 
products  or  effects  in  a  way  similar  to  that  in  which  an  agent,  whether 
material  or  spiritual,  brings  to  pass  its  results.  The  triangle,  square,  cube 
and  sphere  are  regarded  as  possessed  of  certain  properties,  which,  in  their 
nature,  when  subjected  to  certain  changes,  or  brought  into  certain  com- 
binations, make  the  real  existence  of  certain  other  properties  necessary, 
and  therefore  evident  tc  the  mind.  The  ratio  essendi,  or  the  conceived 


§450.  REASONING. — DEDUCTION   OB  MEDIATE  JUDGMENT.  453 

properties  of  the  geometrical  figures  in  space  as  constructed  in  the  niind, 
becomes  the  ratio  cogrtoscendi.  The  nature  of  space,  or  of  bodies  exist- 
ing in  space,  is  the  actual  reason  that  the  mind  accepts  the  conclusion. 
The  geometrical  construction  has  a  quasi  causal  efficiency,  the  effect  or 
consequence  of  which  cannot  be  set  aside ;  or  the  construction  may  be 
viewed  as  a  joint  effect  of  the  mind's  activity,  upon  or  within  the  supposed 
conditions,  as  determined  by  the  mind's  intuition  of  space. 

Thus :  two  triangles  are  similar,  i.  e.,  their  sides  and  corresponding  angles  are  equal, 
because  they  are  the  halves  made  by  the  diagonal  of  a  parallelogram.  The  reason  is  found  in 
the  previously  constructed  properties  of  the  parallelogram.  But  these  properties  are  deter- 
mined by  the  constructive  acts  of  the  mind,  space  being  assumed  as  allowing  the  mind  to 
conceive  or  construct  certain  figures.  The  figures  being  constructed  are  divided,  i.  e.,  new 
figures  are  constructed— they  are  compared  with  each  other — they  are  superimposed  upon  one 
another — in  short,  there  is  a  series  of  consecutive  acts  passing  into  effects,  the  acts  deter- 
mining the  effects  and  the  effects  being  determined  or  defined  by  the  mind's  acts  and  the 
material,  viz.,  space,  with  which  it  works.  We  reason  from  the  act,  i.  e.,  the  cause  to  the 
effect,  or  from  the  effect  back  to  the  act,  precisely  as  when  the  cause  and  effect  are  material. 
There  is  no  difference  in  the  ground  of  the  certainty  when  the  product  is  mental.  The  relation 
of  the  cause  and  the  reason  is  in  both  cases  the  same.  The  reason  rests  upon  the  known 
capacity  of  the  mind  to  construct  such  an  effect,  viz.,  a  triangle  or  square,  by  precisely  the  same 
genetic  or  productive  acts,  under  fixed  spatial  conditions. 

What  we  call  the  nature  or  properties  of  the  triangle  or  square  are  accounted  for  by  the 
mind's  power  to  produce  them,  and  the  concurring  aid  of  space  as  a  condition  or  coagent  to  the 
effect. 

§  450.  The  same  is  true,  when  we  reason  from  the  essential 
immediate  Syi-    constituents  of  a  logical  concept ;  or  construct  what  some 
logicians  call  immediate  syllogisms. 

These  scarcely  deserve  to  be  called  reasoning  proper,  as  the  process  is  merely  formal.  But 
if  they  are  to  be  so  regarded,  then  the  parts  and  the  whole,  from  which  in  such  cases  we  reason 
to  one  another  have  been  previously  fixed  by  the  thinking  power,  or  the  power  to  generalize 
at  all.  That  is,  these  are  products  of  the  mind's  creative  energy  which  are  referred  in  the 
final  explanation  to  the  mind's  own  acting  conformably  to  the  relations  or  forms  of  thought, 
which  are  assumed  as  conformed  to  the  relations  of  things  ;  these  relations  being  regarded  as 
fixed  or  permanent  forces  to  all  like  constructions,  just  as  space  and  number  give  law  to  all  the 
objects  to  which  they  pertain.  These  logical  products  as  wholes  and  parts,  positives,  and  nega- 
tives, etc.,  are  regarded  as  causal  of  certain  results  te  any  object  brought  into  certain  rela- 
tions with  them.  They  are  reasoned  of,  as  though  they  were  actually  existing  beings  with 
causal  properties  obeying  unchanging  laws.  The  parts  make  up  the  whole  and  the  whole  is 
divisible  into  parts,  because  the  mind  unites  these  as  parts  and  makes  of  them  a  whole,  and 
being  so  united  they  must  hold  true  to  the  nature,  e.  e.,  the  effect  or  product  which  the  mind 
has  made  by  its  creative  activity.  We  say,  some  islands  are  surrounded  by  water,  because  it 
is  the  nature  of  the  island  to  be  surrounded  by  water,  t'.  e.,  because  all  islands  are  surrounded 
by  water.  Duty  can  only  be  performed  by  a  moral  being,  because  it  is  of  the  essence 
of  duty  to  be  performed  by  such  a  being.  In  all  such  cases  we  reason  from  what  the  mind 
has  produced  to  what  is  necessarily  involved  by  what  are  called  the  relations  of  content  and 
extent.  These  relations  we  give  to  every  concept  which  we  construct. 

These  positions  will  be  illustrated  more  fully  in  treating  of  the  varieties  of  deduction. 


454  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  4524 

CHAPTER  VIL 

SEASONING. VARIETIES    OF   DEDUCTION. 

FROM  the  analysis  of  the  Deductive  Process  in  general,  we  proceed  to  a  special  consideration 
of  the  several  varietie*  of  deductive  reasoning.  These  are  determined  by  the  differences 
in  the  subject-matter  upon  or  about  which  the  process  of  deduction  is  employed,  so  far 
as  this  subject-matter  occasions  a  difference  in  the  character  of  the  reasons  upon  which 
the  reasoning  depends.  Material  forces  and  reasons  differ  from  the  psychological  and  moral. 
Both  these  are  unlike  the  mathematical.  Those  which  are  purely  logical  differ  from  all  the 
others.  The  process,  however,  is  common  to  all  these  objects  so  far  as  it  is  deductive,  but 
the  subject-matter  is  in  each  case  so  peculiar  in  respect  to  the  sources  from  which  it  ia 
derived,  the  evidence  on  which  its  reality  rests,  and  the  method  by  which  the  mind  gains 
and  uses  the  knowledge  involved,  as  to  occasion  a  marked  difference  in  what  is  usually 
esteemed  and  called  the  process  of  deduction. 

§  451.  The  varieties  of  deductive  reasoning  usuallv  recognized 

The  varieties  are  »       W     •»»•''"*        •»*-»  -,          -11        -»-» 

three ;.  these    are  the  Probable,  the  Mathematical,  and  the  Formal. 

Probable  reasoning  again  is  subdivided  into  three,  the 
physical,  the  psychological,  and  the  historical,  according  as  the  subject-matter 
is  physical  beings  and  phenomena,  spiritual  agents  and  their  m  an  i  lest  at  ions, 
or  those  combinations  of  the  two  which  make  up  human  history.  It  is 
often  called  applied  reasoning,  because  its  materials  are  facts  known  by 
observation  and  induction,  and  to  the  materials  thus  acquired  or  furnished, 
its  processes  are  applied. 

Mathematical  reasoning  is  threefold,  according  as  it  is  concerned  with 
continued  or  discrete  quantity,  or  as  it  combines  the  methods  appropriate 
to  each.  It  is  Geometrical,  Arithmetical  and  Analytical. 

Formal  reasoning  concerns  itself  with  pure  concepts  abstracted  from  all 
beings  and  phenomena,  and  with  the  relations  which  such  concepts  involve. 
It  is  sometimes  technically  styled  simply  logical  deduction,  and  its 
arguments  are  called  immediate  or  purely  logical  syllogisms. 

§  452.  In  probable  or  applied  deduction,  we  may  for  the  pres- 
ent  assume  that  the  premises  are  furnished  by  induction  and 
observation.  In  respect  to  induction,  it  is  for  the  present 
sufficient  that  we  affirm  that  by  it  we  attain  the  knowledge  of  general 
powers,  properties  or  agencies,  in  the  spheres  of  matter  and  of  spirit.  It 
is  in  the  same  way  that  we  reach  what  are  called  the  laws  of  nature,  viz., 
those  universal  conditions  of  the  action  of  these  agents  which  can  be  ex- 
pressed in  fixed  propositions,  and  can  be  regarded  as  rules  or  regulators 
of  the  occurrence  or  non-occurrence  of  their  effects  or  phenomena.  Both  must 
be  considered,  whenever  an  event  is  subjected  to  a  process  of  reasoning. 
But  power  and  law  in  their  relations  to  deduction  may  be  considered  aa 
the  same,  so  far  as  each  is  a  reason  for  the  conclusion.  In  applied  reason 
ing  as  defined,  induction  is  always  necessary  to  furnish  major  premises, 
because  there  can  be  no  reasons,  if  there  are  no  general  or  universal  pow 
ers  or  laws. 


g  452.  REASONING. — VARIETIES    OF   DEDUCTION.  455 

For  minor  premises  in  these  cases,  observation  often  suffices,  because  it  often  furnishes 
individual  facts  or  events.  When  these  minor  premises  affirm  any  thing  of  a  class  of  general 
ized  objects,  induction  may  be  required  as  well  as  observation. 

This  description  of  reasoning  is  called  Probable,  sometimes  Problematical  and 
The  epithet  ex-  Moral,  simply  because  the  subject-matter  depends  on  causes  which  are  con- 
qualified,  tingent,  and  is  not  necessarily  true.  Its  reality  cannot  be  proved  by  demon- 
strative evidence.  As  such  it  is  contrasted  with  the  mathematical  and  formal, 
the  subject-matter  of  which  is  in  no  sense  a  real  being  or  event,  and  is  dependent  on  no  con- 
tingency for  its  existence  or  occurrence,  but  on  the  properties  or  relations  of  mathematical  and 
'ogical  concepts.  As  soon  as  the  premises  are  constructed  by  the  mind  they  need  no  evidence 
from  experience.  They  are  obviously  and  intuitively  true.  The  terms  probable,  etc.,  do  not, 
however,  imply  that  the  processes  involved  are  less  valid  or  convincing,  or  that  the  premises 
or  conclusions  are  less  trustworthy. 

But  whether  the  reasoning  process,  as  such,  relates  to  facta 
S£e^ndiaws.n  of  matter,  to  facts  of  spirit,  or  to  facts  of  history,  it  rests 

upon  reasons  in  the  way  already  explained.  The  facts  are 
reasoned  out  whenever  the  power  or  law  with  its  conditions  is  employed 
to  prove  that  they  must  have  occurred,  inasmuch  as  the  causes  exist 
which  require  them ;  or  whenever  facts  or  events  known  to  exist  are  ex- 
plained by  being  referred  to  such  agencies  or  laws. 

Thus,  the  suspended  weight  let  loose,  it  is  reasoned,  must  fall,  because  tha 
In  the  sphere  of  force  of  gravitation  is  always  in  action  ;  or  the  reason  why  it  fell,  or  why  it 

ought  to  be  believed  that  it  fell,  is  that  this  power  was  acting  at  the  time. 

The  marble  is  decomposed  by  sulphuric  acid  because  the  lime  has  a  stronger 
affinity  for  it  than  for  carbonic  acid.  The  decomposition  of  these  elements  attended  by  effer- 
vescence is  explained  by  the  operation  of  the  stronger  force  over  the  weaker. 

In  the  sphere  of  spirit,  /  reason  that  at  the  thought  of  Hannibal  I  shall  always 
In  the  sphere  of  think  of  Fubius,  because  the  two,  by  association,  have  become  permanently  fixed 

in  my  thought?.     By  a  reference  to  the  operation  of  this  power  under  Its 

laws,  I  explain  the  fact,  that  I  thought  of  Fabius  a  moment  previous.     In  a 

imilar  way  I  predict  or  explain  a  particular  purpose  or  course  of  conduct   on  the  part  of  an 

individual  by  referring  to  the  reasons  which  are  to  be  found  in  the  joint  actions  of  certain 

motives  and  a  supposed  disposition  or  kind  of  character,  both  these  being  regarded  as  agencies 

of  spirit,  or  as  conditions  of  its  action  which  are  regulated  by  fixed  laws. 

The  student  and  interpreter  of  history  reasons   concerning  events  of   the 

past  when  he  seeks  to  explain  them  by  their  appropriate  causes  and    laws, 

or  to  forecast  the  future  by  means  of  the   great  forces   or  agencies, — the  so- 

called  principles— through  which  the  course  of  events  and  the  results  of 
important  movements  in  society  can  be  interpreted. 

When  an  advocate  reasons  for  or  against  the  actual  occurrence  of  a  certain 
In  the  legal  event,  by  a  reference  to  known  principles  of  human  action,  or  the  testimony 
argument.  of  cre(-[iDie  witnesses,  or  when  he  reasons  for  or  against  the  truthfulness  of  a 

witness,  or  when,  an  event  having  occurred,  as  a  theft  or  a  homicide,  he 
reasons  out  a  theory  to  explain  the  event,  and  reasons  against  a  counter  theory,  he  refers  to 
certain  agencies  and  laws  in  the  world  of  matter  or  in  the  world  of  spirit,  and  often  in  both, 
ns  reasons  adequate  to  account  for  the  phenomena. 

Deduction  is  more  satisfactory  and  convincing  when  applied  to  material  than 
Why  more  satis-  when  applied  to  spiritual  phenomena,  because  the  agencies  known  in  the  one 
than  ux  spirit.  sphere  are  more  numerous  than  in  the  other,  and  because  the  laws  according 

to  which  these  agencies  produce  their  results  are  capable  of  being  expressed 


456  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §453 

in  mathematical  formulae.  Hence,  in  many  of  the  physical  sciences  we  aj p-y  the  rigor,  the 
certainty  and  the  variety  of  geometrical  deduction,  as  in  Mechanics,  Optics,  Navigation,  Theo 
retical  Astronomy  and  Chemical  Analysis. 

This  introduces  into  the  sphere  of  pure  deduction  a  second  element,  viz.  the  mathematical^ 
which  is  combined  with  that  which  is  contingent  or  problematical,  in  many  of  the  physical 
sciences,  but  which  in  the  pure  or  abstract  mathematics,  gives  character  to  what  is  called  by 
eminence  mathematical  reasoning. 

§  453.  The  objects  or  entities  with  which  mathematical  rea- 
reasonSg*lca  soning  is  concerned,  are  constructed  by  the  mind  itself  on 

the  suggestion  of,  and  of  course  with  reference  to,  certain 
material  things  and  occurring  acts,  which  are  related  to  one  another  in 
space  and  time.  Hence  these  entities  themselves  have  certain  definite 
relations  to  space  and  time,  which  are  called  their  properties. 

We  need  not  here  consider  all  the  questions  which  may  be  raised  in  respect  to  the  nature 
of  these  objects  or  the  processes  by  which  they  are  formed.  We  are  concerned  with  those 
only  which  are  involved  in  and  give  character  to  mathematical  deduction,  and  which  must  be 
understood  to  explain  this  process. 

We  assume  the  reality  (in  some  sort)  of  Space  and  Time.  We 

The  entities    or  J   V 

beings  to  which  assume  also  that  we  can  construct  and  represent  to  our 
minds,  the  various  thought-objects  with  which  the  sciences 
of  magnitude  and  number  are  concerned.  We  certainly  find  ourselves,  at 
a  certain  stage  of  intellectual  development,  possessed  of  the  concepts 
which  are  employed  in  geometry,  general  arithmetic,  and  algebra — as  the 
Point,  the  Line,  the  Superficies,  the  Triangle,  the  Square,  the  Circle,  the 
Cube,  the  Sphere,  the  Cone,  etc.,  as  also  the  Unit,  the  Sum,  the  Difference, 
the  Multiple,  the  Divisor  and  the  Ratio. 

These  are  properly  called  concepts  or  general  notions.  Like 
other  concepts  their  constituents  are  affirmable  of  the  indi- 
vidual objects  to  which  they  relate  ;  they  have  no  separately 
real,  but  only  a  relative  and  therefore  a  mental  existence.  The  individual 
objects  of  which  these  concepts  are  affirmable  are,  as  it  would  seem  at  first, 
individual  objects  of  sense  or  spirit ;  as  when  we  affirm  a  line,  or  point,  or 
euperficies  to  belong  to  a  block  of  ivory.  On  second  thought,  we  are  sure 
that  the  mathematical  point,  line,  or  surface,  cannot  belong  to  any  mate- 
rial object  as  such,  for  the  reason  that  there  are  no  perfectly  even  or  sharp 
edges  or  even  planes  in  any  material  object.  Nor  are  there  in  nature  any 
perfect  units,  exactly  the  counterparts  of  one  another.  The  mind  must 
sonstruct  or  imagine  such  entities  for  itself,  having  indeed  some,  and 
those  easily  recognizable,  relations  to  the  material  originals. 

These  individual  entities  are  then  generalized,  and  become  concepts  ;  having  a  content  and 
extent,  and  being  capable  of  definition,  division,  and  classification.  The  individual  and  tl  e 
general  are  however  scarcely  distinguished  by  the  mind  itself.  The  individual  differences  are  so 
inconsiderable  and  for  the  purposes  of  mathematical  science  so  unimportant,  that  they  do  not 
come  into  notice.  The  attributes  and  relations  which  they  have  in  common  and  which  con 


§  454.  REASONING. VARIETIES    OF   DEDUCTION.  45 1 

Btitute  their  import,  are  entirely  prominent  and  exclusive  of  the  others.  Indeed,  ir  tin 
mathematical  prccesse.3  the  mind  passes  so  quickly  from  the  individual  to  the  general  and 
returns  again  so  suddenly  to  the  individual  as  not  to  observe  for  the  moment  with  which  it  has 
to  do  when  considering  the  nature  and  relations  of  the  line  or  triangle  which  is  before  it ; 
whether  what  it  observes  or  thinks  of,  is  this  triangle  as  an  individual,  or  as  the  representa 
live  of  all  triangles  conceivable. 

It  is  another  marked  and  distinctive  peculiarity  of  these  relations,  that  they  are 
Their  properties  clearly  and  entirely  distinguishable  from  all  other  generalized  properties.  It 
spiritual.  is  impossible  that  the  length,  breadth  etc.  of  any  material  object  should  be 

confounded  with  its  sensible  qualities,  or  that  the  distinctions  of  number 
should  be  mistaken  for  those  properties  of  matter  or  spirit  of  which  sense  or  consciousness 
takes  cognizance.  Not  only  are  they  clearly  separated  as  a  class,  but  each  one  of  the  class  is 
sharply  separable  from  every  other.  The  line  cannot  possibly  be  confounded  with  the  surface 
nor  the  sum  with  the  difference.  Then  again  the  number  of  the  more  general  of  these  rela- 
tions is  so  limited  as  to  be  entirely  within  the  reach  of  the  imagination  and  the  memory.  The 
mind  is  entirely  certain  that  no  one  required  has  been  overlooked.  The  eye  can  easily  sweep 
over  the  entire  field  of  view  at  a  single  glance. 

§  454.    Again ;  these   concepts,  like  all  others,  can,  as  has 

Can  be  expand       °  ° 

ed  in  proposi-    been  explained,  be  expanded  into  propositions  of  content  and 

tions  of  content.  .   .  *  .    f 

extent.  The  propositions  of  content  are  the  definitions  which 
state  the  attributes  which  constitute  the  essence  of  each  of  the  complex 
concepts  which  we  form  by  mathematical  construction,  as  of  the  square, 
the  triangle,  the  cube,  etc.,  etc.  The  best  and  most  satisfactory  definitions 
are  those  which  bring  directly  before  the  mind  the  act  or  process  by  which 
they  are  supposed  to  be  constructed.  Thus,  a  line  is  defined  as  a  point 
moved  in  space,  a  point  is  produced  by  the  intersection  or  termination  of 
one  line  by  another,  a  superficies  results  from  a  line  in  motion,  a  solid 
from  a  moving  superficies,  a  sphere  from  a  circle  revolved  about  its  diam- 
eter, a  cone  from  the  revolution  of  a  right-angled  triangle  about  its  per- 
pendicular. Definitions  of  this  kind  also  may  serve  to  connect  one 
construction  with  another,  and  thus  enable  us  to  carry  forward  the  prop- 
erties of  one — a  lower — into  those  of  another — a  higher. 

We  recognize  these  definitions  to  be  appropriate  and  true, 
Slate?0118  P°8  because  we  know  that  we  ourselves  perform  the  processes 

and  achieve  the  results  which  the  definitions  describe.  Such 
definitions  we  sometimes  phrase  in  the  language  of  command,  as,  draw 
me  a  line,  move  a  plane,  etc.  For  this  reason  they  are  called  postulates,  pos- 
tulata,  i.  e.,  concepts  which  may  be  required  and  assumed  without  dissent. 

The  definitions  of  the  concepts  of  number  scarcely  need  to  be  given.  We  assume  at  once 
that  all  men  know  what  they  signify.  When  an  explanation  of  them  is  required  we  refer 
iirectly  to  the  processes  of  numbering,  as  adding  and  diminishing  ;  either  by  variable  or 
constant  rates,  etc.,  etc. 

The  peculiarities  of  mathematical  definitions  as  distinguished  from  all  others,  arise  from 
the  circumstance  that  they  exhaust  the  entire  import  or  essence  of  the  concept.  We  are 
certain  that  the  definitions  of  a  triangle  and  square  are  exhaustive.  Such  concepts  are  in  their 
very  nature  transparent,  we  can  see  through  them  as  through  crystal  water  to  the  bottom  of  a 


458  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §455 

mountain  lake.  We  know  thii  the  properties  enumerated  perfectly  distinguish  this  concept 
from  every  other.  The  definition  does  not  indeed  express  all  that  is  true  of  the  concept  a.8 
related  to  every  other  in  every  conceivable  combination,  (else  reasoning  or  analysis  could  not 
add  to  our  knowledge,)  but  it  gives  all  that  is  essential  to  enable  the  mind  to  distinguish  it 
from  every  other,  i.  e.,  to  know  with  entire  satisfaction,  aud  adequately  to  define  what  the 
concept  is  with  which  it  has  to  do. 

Mathematical  §  ^^'  ^^e  Pr°P°s^ions  of  extent  are  such  as  these  :  Triangles 
propositions  of  are  plane  and  spherical ;  and  each  of  these  are  acute,  obtuse, 

or  right-angled  :  and  for  the  same  reason  that  mathematical 
definitions  are  exhaustive,  mathematical  divisions  are  known  to  be  com- 
plete. All  divisions  of  extent  grow  out  of  the  definitions  of  content. 
Inasmuch,  then,  as  these  last  are  exhaustive,  on  account  of  the  limited 
number  of  the  elements  involved,  it  follows,  that  all  possible  subdivisions 
which  depend  upon  such  elements,  can  be  easily  compassed  and  confi- 
dently enumerated  by  the  mind. 

Hamilton  pertinently  observes  :  "  Mathematical,  like  all  other  reason- 
ing, is  syllogistic  ;  but  here,  the  perspicuous  necessity  of  the  matter  necessi- 
tates the  correctness  of  the  form  /  we  cannot  reason  wrong." —  Works  oj 
Reid,  p.  701,  n. 

§  456.  Besides  the  definitions,  there  is  another  class  of  prop- 
kinSs*13  of  two  ositions  called  axioms.  These  differ  from  definitions  in  this, 

that  they  state  the  necessary  relations  that  are  involved  in  the 
nature  or  application  of  all  the  concepts  of  quantity  as  such,  whereas  each  one 
of  the  definitions  states  either  the  content  or  extent  of  some  special  concept. 
Examples  of  axioms :  such  propositions  as  the  following,  '  the  whole  is 
greater  than  its  part ,'  i.  e.,  it  is  involved  in  the  construction  of  the  concept 
the  whole,  that  it  should  bear  this  relation  to  another  concept  called  its 
part.  The  one  requires  its  correlate;  involving  the  relations  of  greater  and 
less.  We  construct  and  therefore  conceive  the  whole  by  the  addition  of 
parts  ;  we  construct  parts  by  the  division  of  a  whole. 

Again,  'if  to  or  from  equal  quantities  we  add  or  take  equals,  the  sums 
or  remainders  are  equal.'  This  is  also  seen  at  once  to  be  true,  and  to  be 
involved  in  the  very  nature  of  equality. 

Axioms  of  this  first  class  are  equally  applicable  to  arithmetical  and  geometn- 

How  far  applica-     ca}  quantity.     They  affirm  the  relations  which  the  mind  must  evolve  and  dis- 

ble  to  Arithmetic 

and  Geometry.       cern  whenever  it  measures  one  such  quantity  by  another.  It  is  of  the  nature  of 

any  quantity  to  be  measurable ;  it  can  be  known  as  equal,  greater  or  less,  when 
compared  with  another  quantity.  More  exactly  we  say  in  the  concrete  ;  separate  objects  hav- 
ing relations  to  either  space  or  time  or  to  both,  can  measure  one  another.  Equality,  greater-ness 
and  less-ness,  are  discerned  in  and  evolved  from  these  acts  of  comparison.  The  axioms  concern 
jug  the  equal,  the  greater  and  the  less,  state  in  general  language  and  in  special  applications 
what  the  mind  necessarily  believes  in  every  particular  case.  They  do  not  enable  the  mind  to 
apply  a  predicate  to  the  individual  becauseit  has  affirmed  it  of  the  general,  but  they  affirm  in  gen- 
eral  what  the  mind  is  ready  to  assent  to  in  every  special  instance.  Cf.  Kant,  Kritik.  p.  143, 
ed.  Ros,,  p.  176,  ed.  Hart.,  and  Proleg.  §  2.  Kant  contends,  that  though  they  are  proposition! 


§456.  REASONING. VARIETIES   OF   DEDUCTION.  459 

d  priori^  they  are  not  axioms  at  all.  Mansel,  in  his  Proleg.  Log,  chap,  iv.,  contends  that  they 
are  analytic ;  i.  e.  when  we  say  the  whole  is  greater  than  a  part,  we  simply  express  in  distinct 
language  what  is  implied  in  the  concept,  the  whole. 

Axioms  of  this  character  are  sometimes  called  analytic  propositions  as  con- 
*    ^raste<^  w^k  synthetic?  because,  as  it  is  contended,  they  evolve  or  explicate  in 

the  predicate  what  is  irnpliedly  known  or  assumed  in  the  subject. 

There  is  another  class  of  axioms,  such  as  these  :  Two  straight  lines  cannot 
inclose  a  space :  Two  or  more  parallel  lines,  if  produced  ever  so  far  in  either  direction,  can 
never  meet.  These  axioms  apply  to  geometrical  quantity  only.  These  are  clearly  synthetical 
propositions.  Whatever  may  be  true  of  those  of  the  other  class ;  in  those  of  this  the  predicate 
contains  new  matter  which  the  subject  does  not  imply.  And  yet  these  propositions  are  self- 
evident  and  intuitively  true.  They  cannot  and  need  not  be  demonstrated.  Their  truth  is  aa 
obvious  to  the  mind  as  is  the  possibility  of  constructing  the  original  concepts  involved,  or  the 
propriety  of  accepting  certain  postulates.  In  all  these  cases  the  mind  discerns  the  necessary 
relations  of  objects  to  space. 

Tathan,  in  The  Chart  and  Scale  of  Truth,  chap.  i.  sec.  ii.,  asserts  that  axioms  are  self-evident,  but  not 
intuitive,  because,  as  he  contends,  if  they  were  intuitive,  they  would  "  flash  direct  conviction  on  the  mind, 
as  external  objects  do  on  the  senses,  of  all  men." 

The  nature  and  grounds  of  the  evidence  for  the  truth  of 
definitions  self-  mathematical  definitions  and  axioms  need  not  here  be  dis- 
cussed at  length  :  all  concede  that  we  give  to  both  an  unhesi- 
tating and  uniform  assent,  as  necessarily  and  universally  true.  Whatever 
theory  is  adopted  in  respect  to  the  method  by  which  we  obtain  this  knowl- 
edge, or  the  evidence  on  which  we  ground  it,  there  is  no  question  at  all 
in  respect  to  the  clearness  and  confidence  of  our  convictions.  Even  those 
who  contend  that  we  accept  them  on  grounds  of  the  uniform  experience 
of  their  truth, — whether  reached  by  inseparable  and  ineradicable  associa- 
tions, or  through  the  process  of  induction, — still  regard  these  axioms  as 
unquestionably  true.  Those  who  hold  that  the  mind  believes  in  their 
truth  because  it  confides  in  the  known  results  of  its  own  productive  activity 
under  the  known  and  permanent  conditions  of  space  and  time,  have  no 
stronger  conviction  of  their  uniform  and  necessary  truth. 

The  question  has  been  earnestly  agitated  whether  the  axioms  or  the  defini- 
Vo  axioms  or  tions  are  the  foundations  of  geometrical  reasoning.  It  has  been  very  gener- 
tain  deduction !  ally  held  that  the  axioms  are  the  real  principia  upon  which  such  reasoning 

depends :  that  is,  that  they  are  the  unproved  but  assumed  major  premise! 
of  which,  with  certain  minor  premises  furnished  by  the  definitions,  all  the  syllogisms  are  con- 
structed, that  make  up  the  demonstrations  of  geometry. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  only  kind  of  axioms  which  can  be  considered  in  this  discussion,  is  the  first  class 
which  we  have  cited,  the  so-called  analytic  axioms.  Those  of  the  second  class,  all  would  concede,  are  aa 
truly  principles  as  are  the  definitions  ;  as  capable  as  they  to  serve  as  major  premises  for  syllogisms.  They 
are  indeed  more  truly  synthetic  than  the  definitions  themselves. 

The  method  after  which  these  demonstrations  are  conducted  by  Euclid,  has  lent  a  decided 
support  to  this  view.  In  all  these  demonstrations,  these  axioms  are  constantly  cited  aa 
major  premises  for  the  truth  of  the  conclusions  which  are  derived  from  them.  His  arguments 
are  in  substance  as  follows :  All  things  that  are  equal  to  the  same  thing,  are  equal  to  one 
another.  The  case  of  the  equality  of  the  two  lines  or  angles  to  a  third  is  a  case  of  the  kind 
Therefore,  this  is  a  case  of  their  being  equal  to  one  another. 


460  THE   HUMAN    I2STTELLECT.  §457, 

Against  ihis  doctrine,  Locke,  Essay,  B.  iv.  c.  vii.  §10,  protests  with  great  earnestness  and  force,  thai 
we  do  not  assent  to  the  general  proposition  any  more  readily  than  we  do  to  the  particular  conclusion  Thich 
it  was  designed  to  prove,  and  that  the  axiom,  as  a  general  truth,  therefore  does  not  serve  as  the  ground  ol 
our  belief.  The  only  use  which  such  axioms  serve  is,  in  controversy ;  to  silence  wranglers,  by  showing  them 
that  they  not  only  believe  the  particular  which  is  in  dispute,  but  vastly  more,  i.  e.,  the  general  which  in- 
cludes it. 

Reid,  Essays  on  the  Intel.  Powers,  Essay  vi.  chaps,  v.  and  vii.,  holds  a  different  opinion,  when  heasserta 
the  importance  of  First  Truths  or  First  Principles  as  the  necessary  foundations  of  all  our  knowledge,  and 
instances  the  indispensableness  of  axioms  as  premises  in  geometrical  reasoning.  But  when  he  comes  to  ex- 
plain himself,  he  concedes  the  justice  of  the  most  of  Locke's  observations. 

Principal  Campbell,  in  his  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric  (B.  i.  c.  v.  §1),  takes  the  same  view  as  Reid. 

Dugald  Stewart,  Elements,  Part  il.  subd.  i.  c.  i.  sec.  i.  1  and  2,  agrees  with  Locke,  and  contends  that 
the  definitions  and  not  the  axioms  are  the  foundations  or  principles  of  geometrical  reasoning.  The  axioms 
he  does  not  consider  useless,  but  calls  them  elements,  though  not  principles.  The  definitions  he  com- 
pares to  "  the  hook,  or  rather  the  beam,"  to  which  is  attached  a  chain  supporting  a  weight,  while  the  axioms 
"  may  be  compared  to  the  successive  concatenations  which  connect  the  different  links  immediately  with 
one  another." 

For  our  present  purpose,  it  is  of  little  consequence  to  determine  whether  the  axioms  or 
the  definitions  are  or  are  not  the  principles  of  geometrical  deduction.  In  the  one  case  we 
begin  our  series  of  deductions  with  certain  general  truths  that  are  more  extensive  than,  and 
are  prior  to  the  subject-matter  of  geometry.  In  the  other  we  find  our  first  propositions  in  the 
definitions,  or  the  further  truths  which  the  definitions  introduce  and  make  possible. 

The  construction  §457.  It  is  more  important  to  observe  that  what  is  called 
figureseoiA°urxiil-  geometrical  demonstration  is  very  far  from  being  a  process 
of  pure  deduction.  As  preliminary  to  this  and  coincident  with 
it  at  every  step,  there  is  carried  forward  a  process  of  preparing  the  mate- 
rials concerning  which  we  reason,  so  that  they  can  be  brought  into  compari- 
son. This  is  ordinarily  termed  the  construction  of  the  diagram  or  the 
drawing  of  auxiliary  lines.  In  some  cases  these  constructions  are  very 
easy  and  simple,  in  others  they  are  difficult  and  complex.  In  all  cases  they 
task  the  power  of  invention,  and  of  fertile  suggestion.  The  mind  must 
divine  or  anticipate,  or  have  a  presentiment  of  what  it  will  prove  and 
how  it  can  prove  it,  as  it  proceeds  with  this  preliminary  construction.  It 
must  maintain  a  continued  course  of  inventing  and  providing  middle 
terms,  so  to  speak.  The  preparation  of  the  diagram  for  the  demonstration 
of  the  47th  prop.  1st  book,  of  Euclid's  Geometry,  is  no  inconsiderable 
achievement  of  inventive  skill  and  sagacity. 

It  ought  to  be  observed,  that  in  order  to  be  certain  of  the  possibility  of  drawing  some  of 
these  lines,  and  of  the  character  of  the  figures  which  will  result  from  them,  we  cannot  depend 
upon  either  the  axioms  or  the  definitions,  nor  on  the  results  of  previous  reasoning  processes, 
but  we  must  rely  solely  upon  our  direct  intuition  of  the  properties  and  relations  of  the  figures 
which  our  postulates  enable  us  to  draw,  and  which  our  definitions  describe.  We  know,  for 
example,  by  intuition  only,  that  we  can  connect  the  opposite  extremities  of  a  square  or 
rectangle,  and  that  the  diagonal  thus  drawn  will  divide  the  rectangle  into  two  triangles  with  a 
common  base.  In  constructing  a  rectangle,  we  must  presuppose  the  space  which  we  circum- 
scribe, and  some  of  the  consequent  relations  to  it  and  to  each  other  of  its  bounding  lines. 
So  soon  as  we  divide  this  space,  we  add  to  this  knowledge  also,  by  direct  inspection  or  intui- 
tion. The  same  's  true  whenever  we  add  to  or  divide  any  construction,  whether  it  be  original 
or  superinduced 


§458.  REASONING.  -  VAKIETIfc.3    OF   DEDUCTION,  461 

It  should  be  noticed,  that  in  all  cases  of  complicated  geometrical  construction,  the  com 
Tentati?  iro  Pletion  of  tne  diagram  is  the  result,  to  a  large  degree,  of  a  tentative  process.  We  dra* 
ces'sea  often^e-  a  line»  and  then  observe  whether  the  new  relations  brought  into  existence  by  this  con- 
quired.  struction  may  serve  as  connecting  links  between  the  point  laid  down  and  its  proof.  Th< 

mind,  by  this  process,  builds  a  road,  as  it  were,  before  itself,  and  thus  goes  on,  step  bj 
step,  to  the  otherwise  inaccessible  goal.  The  geometer  may  not  at  once  see  wVre  the  path  must  lie,  and 
may  make  many  vain  attempts,  before  he  can  cross  the  space  that  separates  him  from  his  object. 

The  new  constructions  which  we  form  for  each  new  theorem,  furnish  fresh 
tions  ^  mate"a^  f°r  yet  other  processes  of  deduction,  and  thus  enlarge  the  sphere,  b} 


new  material.  successive  syntheses,  of  the  objects  to  which  our  deductions  can  be  applied. 
The  new  truths  which  these  new  constructions  enable  us  to  discover  are  intui- 
tively assented  to  in  their  conditions  and  their  evidence.  They  are  axiomatic,  similar  to  tli6 
axioms  of  the  second  class  which  we  have  already  considered.  The  number  of  such  axiomatic 
truths  made  possible  by  the  endless  variety  of  geometrical  constructions  is  well  nigh  unlimited. 
With  every  new  construction,  some  new  relation  is  evoked,  and  its  truth  is  intuitively  assented 
to. 

The  necessity  of  constructing  the  diagram  in  order  to  elicit  additional  knowledge  haa 
Geometrical  rea-  led  to  a  great  variety  of  theories  in  respect  to  the  nature  of  geometrical  reasoning. 
inuT^cons'truc-  Some'  as  Schleiermacher,  Dialektik,  have  resolved  the  whole  of  the  process  into  the  de- 
tion.  vising  of  the  requisite  auxiliary  lines,  which  being  done,  they  assert  that  nothing  more 

is  necessary  than  to  institute  a  succession  of  measurements  or  comparisons  of  equal 
quantities.  These  overlook  the  circumstance  that  the  process  of  deduction  is  also  employed  whenever 
we  use  general  truths  as  the  grounds  of  particular  conclusions.  Because  the  constructive  process  is  an  es- 
sential, and  oftentimes  the  most  conspicuous  element,  they  recognize  no  other. 

Others,  like  J.  S.  Mill  and  Sir  John  Hersche!,  contend  that  all  mathematical  truth  ia 

gained  by  successive  processes  of  induction,  as  well  the  original  axioms  and  definitions 

as  the  new  truths  which  successive  demonstrations  enable  us  to  discern.    These  think- 

ers confound  the  conditions  of  discerning  a  truth  with  the  process  by  which  it  is  gained, 

and  the  evidence  on  which  it  rests.    Because  the  mind  is  forced  to  use  individual  exam- 

ples of  real  things  in  order  to  fix  its  attention  upon  what  it  can  construct  and  think  of,  they  conclude  that 

tho  only  possible  way  in  which  it  can  use  them  is  to  form  inductions  (which,  by  the  way,  are  by  J.  S.  Mill 

resolvable  into  inseparable  associations).    Mill,  having  resolved  th  e  deductive  process  into  induction,  could 

scarcely  avoid  the  necessity  of  explaining  mathematical  reasoning  by  the  same  principle.    The  necessity  of 

a  continued  resort  to  new  constructions  in  order  to  make  any  advancement  in  such  geometrical  deductions, 

furnished  him  with  a  a  plausible  ground  for  this  view. 

Dugald  Stewart,  Elements,  Part  ii.  c.  ii.  sec.  3,  1,  on  the  other  hand  contends,  that 
mathematical  reasoning  is  purely  hypothetical.      The  definitions  are  the  hypotheses 
whioh  the  mind  assumes'  aml  we  deduce  from  these  the  legitimate  conclusions.    But  he 
does  not  explain  at  all  how  the  mind  is  enabled  or  induced  to  form  such  hypotheses, 
nor  how  it  enlarges  them  by  successive  constructions,  with  the  aid  of  auxiliary  lines  and 
diagrams.    And  yet,  that  the  mind  is  somehow  capable  of  forming  a  limited  number  of  such  hypotheti- 
cal constructions,  all  in  some  way  growing  out  of  and  related  to  another,  he  constantly  assumes. 

§  458.  In  geometrical  reasoning  it  is  necessary  that  the  sev« 
eral  quantities  should  be  measured  by  or  with  one  another, 
Indeed  the  diagrams  are  constructed,  and  the  needful  auxili- 
ary lines  are  drawn  for  this  end,  that  the  parts  may  be  so  prepared  that 
one  may  be  compared  with  another.  As  the  triangle  is  the  simplest  figure 
that  can  be  constructed,  the  original  measurement  to  which,  in  the  last 
analysis,  all  others  are  reduced,  and  by  which  they  are  tested,  is  that  of  two 
triangles.  In  Playfair's  Geometry  the  first  act  of  demonstration  and  that  to 
which  all  the  remaining  attach  themselves  and  are  referred,  is  that  of  the 
fourth  Prop,  by  which  two  triangles  are  superimposed  on  one  another.  The 
possibility  of  comparing  two  triangles  being  established,  we  have  the 
means  of  comparing  all  those  plane  figures  which  can  be  resolved  into 


462  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §459. 

equal  triangles.  This  may  be  considered  another  auxiliary  step  in  geomet- 
rical demonstration.  It  is  obvious  however  that  this  is  not  deduction 
proper. 

It  should  here  be  noticed  that  the  fact  that  in  geometrical  reasoning  we  arc 
Misapplication  constantly  establishing  relations  of  equality,  in  other  words  are  substituting 
of  this  fact.  one  quantity  for  another,  has  led  to  the  belief  that  this  was  the  aim  and  type 

of  all  reasoning  whatever.  Hence  the  effort  to  explain  all  the  logical  relations 
by  those  of  mathematical  equality  and  to  resolve  the  judgment  and  the  syllogism  solely 
by  relations  of  agreement  or  substitution.  Because  on  account  of  its  special  subject-mat- 
ter geometrical  deduction  is  the  clearest  and  most  rigorous,  it  was  concluded  that  it  furnished 
the  type  for  all  deduction  whatever.  Hence,  equality,  agreement,  substitution  or  identity, 
have  been  so  extensively  employed  to  explain  deduction.  It  was  not  considered  that  geomet- 
rical deduction  is  only  a  single  species  under  the  common  genus,  and  that  the  explanation 
of  a  process  common  to  the  whole  genus  by  relations  appropriate  to  a  single  species,  must 
of  course  be  unphilosophical. 

Geometrical rea-  §  459'  ^  remains  for  us  to  inquire  how  the  process  of  de- 
^uction  *s  applied  to  the  elements  and  processes  of  geometri- 
cal  demonstration  which  we  have  described.  This  will  enable 
us  to  explain  its  nature.  We  can  do  this  most  satisfactorily  by  an  ex- 
ample. 

In  the  fifth  proposition  of  Euclid's  geometry,  B.  I.,  it  is  proposed  to  prove  that  the  angles 
at  the  base  of  an  isosceles  triangle  are  equal.  The  first  step  is  to  prepare  the  diagram  by 
producing  the  two  sides  A  B,  and  A  C,  indefinitely  towards  D  and  E. 

In  the  lines  thus  drawn,  the  two  points  F  and  G  are  taken  at  equal 
distances  from  A,  and  B  G  and  C  F  are  joined.  It  is  manifest '  to  the  eye* 
as  we  say,  that  we  have  two  pairs  of  triangles,  A  B  G  and  A  C  F,  B  C  G 
and  C  B  F.  The  first  two  have  the  two  corresponding  sides  equal — the 
/___-A  0  one  by  construction,  the  other  by  the  addition  of  equals  to  equals— as  also 
the  included  angle  common.  By  deduction  from  the  conclusion  of  the 
fourth  proposition,  the  bases  C  F  and  B  G  and  the  several  angles  are 
proved  to  be  equal.  These  two  conclusions  give,  in  the  two  smaller  tri- 
angles, one  side  of  each  equal ;  by  subtraction  of  the  equals  A  B  and  A  C 
from  the  equals  A  F  and  A  G,  the  sides  B  F  and  C  G  are  equal ;  that 
their  included  angles  are  equal  was  proved  as  a  conclusion  from  the  syllogism  founded  on  the 
fourth  proposition.  It  follows  by  the  same  syllogism  upon  the  same  premises,  that  the  angles 
B  C  F  and  G  B  C  are  equal.  These  equals  are,  then,  taken  from  the  equals  A  C  F  and  A  B  G, 
and  the  remainders  are  equal.  These  are  the  angles  at  the  base  of  the  isosceles  triangle. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  syllogisms  employed  are  either  five  or  two,  according  as  we  con- 
rider  the  axioms  to  be  or  not  to  be  the  foundations  of  geometrical  deduction.  There  are  three 
cases  in  which  the  axioms,  if  equals  be  added  to  or  taken  from  equals,  are  employed  in  what, 
in  form,  appear  to  be  syllogisms.  In  the  other  two  the  conclusion  of  the  fourth  proposition  ia 
made  the  major  premise,  and  the  conclusion  is  regularly  deduced.  In  all,  we  have  a  general 
proposition  for  a  major  premise,  a  particular  case  for  the  minor,  and  the  conclusion  made  up  of 
the  major  and  minor  term.  That  is,  there  are  in  all  these  cases,  formal  syllogisms  ;  but  there 
is  this  difference ;  in  the  one  case  the  axiom  adds  no  force  to  the  belief  of  the  conclusion, 
because  this  would  be  equally  clear  to  the  mind  without  it ;  in  the  other,  we  are  referred  to 
the  nature  of  the  concept  or  construction — as  of  two  triangles  equal  in  two  sides  and  the  in- 
cluded angle — as  necessarily  involving  equality  in  the  remaining  side  of  each.  The  reason 
for  the  conclusion  is  the  properties  of  such  triangles  as  constructed  by  the  mind  by  means 


§  460.  SEASONING. — VAKIETIES    OF   DEDUCTION.  46S 

of  the  known  properties  of  space.  It  would  be  a  trivial  notion  to  say  that  it  is  of  the  nature 
of  equality,  that  two  things  equal  to  the  same  thing  are  equal  to  one  another ;  but  this  must 
be  said,  if  the  axiom  is  a  reason  for  the  special  applications  of  itself. 

But  again :  we  demonstrate  or  deduce  in  this  way  by  these  two  concatenated 
Generalization  syllogisms,  that  the  angles  at  the  base  of  this  particular  isosceles  triangle  are 
in  the  process.  equal  to  one  another.  But  we  see  at  once  that  it  must  follow  that  whatever 

is  true  of  this  or  any  isosceles  triangle  must  be  true  of  every  one.  Hence 
we  generalize  this  conclusion  directly,  and  make  it  ready  to  be  used  as  the  major  premise  of 
another  syllogism.  This  is  the  last  step  in  the  process  of  a  geometrical  demonstration.  It  is 
not  by  induction  proper,  however,  that  we  pass  from  the  individual  to  the  general,  for  the 
reason  that  the  properties  and  relations  of  space  which  are  used  in  an  individual  construction 
In  space,  do  not  like  those  of  matter  indicate  one  another  with  more  or  less  probability, 
but  each  requires  the  other  by  an  unavoidable  necessity  which  is  open  to  intuitive  inspec- 
tion. 

It  scarcely  need  be  said,  that  there  is  in  geometry  much  which  is  called  deduction  which  is  not  such 
in  fact.  It  is  very  easy,  in  this  science,  to  arrange  a  series  of  propositions  which  shall  conform  to  the  rules 
of  formal  logic,  when  there  is  no  force  of  real  reasons.  The  same  may  be  true  in  probable  reasoning.  It 
is  not  difficult  to  assert  general  truths  which  have  no  greater  force  than  the  particulars  which  appear  to  be 
dependent  upon  them. 

The  processes  of  arithmetic  and  algebra  are  scarcely  considered  processes  of  deduction 
Deduction  in  a*  a^:  not  Because  deduction  is  not  present  and  actually  performed,  but  because  it  playa 
arithmetic  and  so  inconsiderable  a  part  in  reaching  the  result.  The  chief  concern  of  the  mind  in  per- 
algebra.  forming  problems  of  this  sort,  is  to  invent  such  combinations  and  to  apply  such  meth- 

ods of  dealing  with  them,  as  will  bring  to  pass  the  result — which  is  usually  to  state 
some  new  equation  between  elements  that  can  be  evolved  from  the  data.  The  mind  seeks  to  change  the 
expression  of  the  quantities  given,  so  that  they  can  be  advantageously  compared.  The  mind  deduces  only 
when  it  applies  some  rule  or  principle,  or  uses  a  formula  previously  determined  to  be  true  of  all  members 
or  all  objects  similarly  situated  with  the  individual  case.  Both  these  processes  are  similar  in  principle  to 
the  expedient  of  devising  auxiliary  lines  in  geometry.  The  particular  result  is  readily  generalized. 

§  460.  The  third  species  of  reasoning  is  the  formal  or  purely 
immediate  syi-  logical,  such  as  is  employed  in  immediate  syllogisms.  Here 

the  reason  for  the  conclusion  is  found  in  some  one  of  the 
necessary  relations  of  the  concept,  whenever  such  a  relation  or  property 
can  be  applied  or  viewed  as  a  cause  necessitating  some  new  relation.  In- 
asmuch as  there  are  several  such  essential  relations,  a  variety  of  such 
deductions  is  possible.  Syllogisms  of  this  sort  are  called  by  IKant 
syllogisms  of  the  understanding,  because  the  understanding  is  defined  by 
Kant  to  be  the  logical  faculty.  The  relations  or  forms  of  the  understand- 
ing are  the  grounds  or  reasons  for  all  such  deductive  conclusions.  These 
conclusions  are  sometimes  styled  immediate,  in  contrast  with  those  which 
are  mediate,  because  they  are  built  upon  a  single  proposition,  or  more 
exactly  because  no  middle  term  is  present  or  provided  in  the  ordinary 
acceptation  of  the  word.  The  major  premise  is  derived  from  an  expansion 
in  language  of  those  relations  which  necessarily  belong  to  the  concept, 
and  therefore  may  be  expressed  in  propositions.  These  arguments  are 
usually  treated  in  books  of  logic  under  the  title  of  the  Conversion  and 
Opposition  of  Propositions,  and  often  are  not  treated  as  syllogisms 
at  all 


464  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §461 

The  following  is  an  example,  usually  cited  as  of  subaltern  opposition  :  Al 
islands  were  originally  attached  to  a  continent ;  therefore,  some   islands,  or 
~~  °P~     ****  island,  e.  g.  Ireland,    teas  originally  attached  to  a  continent.     The  argu- 
ment  in  this  form  is  aii  enthymeme.     In  order   that   it  may  be  expanded 
into  a  syllogism  the  major  premise  is  required :  it  becomes  whatever  is  true 
of  all  islands  is  true  of  some  islands  ;   it  is  true  of  all  islands  that  they  were  attached  to  a 
continent ;  therefore  it  is  true  of  some  islands  that  they  belonged  to  a  continent.. 

We  assert,  No  man  is  perfect ;  therefore,  some  men,  or  this  man  is  not  perfect :  the  major 
premise  being  whatever  is  denied  of  all  men  is  denied  of  some  men. 

In  conversion   we   conclude   from   All  men  are  mortal,  that  some  mortals 
are    men.     From  No  man    is   perfect,    that   no   perfect   being  is   a  man, 
Conversion.  and  so  on  throughout  the  cases  that  are  possible,  the  major  premise  in  eact 

instance  being  a  periphrastic  proposition,  as  the  predicate  affirmed  of  all  mei 
may  be  the  subject  when  limited  by  some,  etc. 

It  might  seem  at  first  that  the  proper  major  premise  in  such  cases,  should  be  the  more  general  axiom, 
as  in  the  first  example ;  whatever  is  true  of  any  whole  is  true  of  its  part.  But  on  a  second  thought  we  cor- 
rect ourselves  by  observing,  that  in  such  a  case  no  middle  term  can  possibly  be  devised  to  connect  the  major 
with  the  minor.  The  same  is  time,  only  more  eminently,  of  what  are  called  the  laws  of  thought — as  the  laws 
of  identity,  of  contradiction,  and  of  the  excluded  middle ;  no  matter  is  furnished  in  such  propositions,  by  which 
we  can  proceed  to  a  conclusion.  They  are  not  laws  of  thought  in  the  sense  of  being  major  premises  for 
deduction.  They  are  rather  generalizations  of  the  particular  processes  which  the  mind  performs,  and  of  the 
relations  which  they  involve.  They  are  simply  rules  for  logical  consistency  (cf.  §  548"). 

on  what  does  §  461'  ^e  ^orce  °*  tae  argument  in  all  these  cases  of  purely 
rest?  reasoning  logical  reasoning,  is  found  in  the  essential  nature  of  the 
concept,  involving  certain  relations,  as  of  the  whole  to  its  part, 
of  the  subject  to  the  predicate,  and  of  the,  positive  to  the  negative.  But  the 
nature  of  the  concept  is  but  another  name  for  properties  or  relations 
which  the  mind  necessarily  conceives  every  concept  to  possess,  which 
the  mind  must  necessarily  think  it  to  be,  or  be  able,  in  other  relations,  to 
effect  or  occasion.  The  mind  cannot  conceive  it  except  as  a  whole,  con- 
taining parts ;  the  whole  and  the  parts  each  having  the  same  content  or 
essence ;  the  positive  being  contrasted  with  and  deniable  of  its  opposite  or 
negative,  and  vice  versa.  The  mind  must  respect  its  own  creations,  and 
create  according  to  the  relations  under  or  according  to  which  it  thinks. 
These  products  possess  the  properties  which  the  mind's  creative  act  gives 
them,  and  these  must  be  thought  out  into  all  the  applications  or  con- 
sequences which  these  properties  suppose.  The  purely  logical  properties 
or  relations  are  as  truly  causes  of  the  object  known  in  the  conclusion,  as  are 
physical  causes  and  mathematical  relations.  So  far  forth  they  are  used  by 
the  mind  as  the  reason  of  its  knowing.  It  makes  no  difference  whence 
their  efficiency  is  derived,  whether  from  the  act  of  the  Creator,  giving 
force  to  mental  and  physical  energies  under  their  appropriate  conditions ; 
or  from  the  thinking  power  of  man,  giving  thought-being  and  thought- 
properties  to  the  products  of  its  own  activity,  according  to  relations  which 
are  the  very  conditions  of  all  knowledge. 


g  462.  REASONING.  —  VARIETIES    OF   DEDUCTION.  4G5 

In  every  kind  of  deduction,  whatever  may  be  the  subject-matter,  we  are  held 
All  deduction  is  to  reason  logically,  i.  e.,  with  formal  consistency;  i.  e.,  to  deduce  according  to 
lawsf1'  LoglC£  [  the  formal  as  well  as  the  real,  the  analytic  as  well  as  the  synthetic  nature 

and  relations  of  the  concepts  which  we  employ.  We  must  accept  and  hold 
to  the  definitions  which  we  ourselves  lay  down.  If  we  fail  to  define  our  terms  we  are  sup- 
posed to  accept  them  with  the  import  in  which  they  are  usually  received.  As  rules  or  laws, 
to  aid  us  in  this  logical  consistency  and  rigor,  the  usually  recognized  laws  of  thought  have 
been  devised  and  employed  which  are  known  as  the  law  of  identity,  of  contradiction,  and  of 
the  excluded  middle  (§  548). 

We  are  also  required  to  reason  according  to  the  relation  of  genera  and 
Technical  logical  sPecies  and  the  rules  which  respect  the  conversion  and  opposition  of  proposi- 
dcduction.  tions.  It  does  not  often  happen  that  the  so-called  logical  or  pure  sylloghms 

are  separately  drawn  out,  because  they  are  so  easily  followed  and  the  I'^rce 
of  the  conclusions  from  them  is  rarely  questioned.  It  is  only  when  some  oversight  of  these 
relations  is  allowed,  that  we  have  occasion  to  separate  the  reasoning  which  is  purely  logical 
from  that  which  is  founded  upon  the  matter,  whether  this  is  mathematical  or  real.  In  such 
cases  we  call  attention  to  the  error  or  oversight  by  distinguishing  the  logical  from  the  other 
relations  with  which  it  is  combined.  We  then  suppose  the  concepts  to  be  correct  in  respect 
to  matter  in  order  that  we  may  show  the  reasoning  to  be  defective  in  form.  We  for  the  mo- 
ment concede  the  truth  of  all  the  propositions  asserted  and  point  out  the  error  in  the  logical 
conduct  of  the  argument. 

In  reasoning  which  is  confessedly  hypothetical,  where  the  matter  is  merely 
Hypothetical  supposed,  for  the  sake  of  the  argument  as  we  say,  as  in  all  cases  of  the 

reductio  ad  absurdum,   and  in   many  instances  for  the  purpose  of  tracing 

certain  facts  or  assertions  to  their  consequences,  the  consequences  are  said 
to  be  the  results  or  conclusion  which  are  required  by  the  argument  as  such.  This  kind  of 
reasoning  differs  from  the  technically  logical  as  in  the  immediate  syllogism,  in  this,  that  the 
reasoning  does  not  turn  upon  the  essential  relations  of  the  concept  as  such,  but  upon  the  rela- 
tions or  properties  of  the  object  which  are  conceived  to  be  real.  We  treat  the  concepts  as 
though  they  represented  realities.  We  view  them  as  real.  They  are  to  us  as  if  they  were 
real.  Thus  :  we  suppose  the  diamond  to  be  incombustible  or  the  diameter  of  the  earth  to  be 
of  a  given  length,  or  the  force  of  gravity,  or  the  properties  of  oxygen  or  hydrogen  to  be  so  and 
so  ;  it  makes  no  difference  whether  these  properties  are  real  or  untruly  taken,  we  reason 
about  them  as  though  the  objects  existed  in  fact  and  their  relations  or  properties  were 
correctly  conceived. 

But  in  the  logical  reasoning  technically  so  termed,  i.  e.,  in  immediate  syllogisms,  the  rearons 
are  found  not  in  xeal  properties  or  mathematical  relations,  whether  they  are  correctly  or 
incorrectly  taken,  but  upon  certain  relations  essential  to  the  concept  as  such,  which  cannot 
be  assumed  as  hypotheses  but  are  necessarily  true  of  all  concepts  and  objects  as  concei  red. 
The  relations  of  wholes  to  parts,  of  a  proposition  to  its  converse,  of  a.  positive  to  a  negative, 
are  always  the  same  and  always  known. 


TWO  elements  in  §  462>  ^e  fr>regoing  analysis  of  the  varieties  of  deduction 
°f  de~  W*^  ^ave  PrePare^  us  to  distinguish,  in  reasoning,  that  part 
of  the  process  which  is  preparative  or  auxiliary,  from  that 
which  is  simply  and  strictly  deductive.  That  which  is  characteristic  of 
every  kind  of  reasoning,  is  derived  from  the  elements  and  materials  with 
which  these  subsidiary  processes  have  to  do.  But  in  what  we  call  the 
act  or  process  of  reasoning,  the  two  operations  are  so  intimately  blended 
together,  they  are  so  closely  and  intimately  intertwined,  that  it  is  not  easy 
30 


466  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  462 

to  distinguish  the  one  from  the  other.  For  example,  in  probable  reason- 
ing, the  force  and  conclusiveness  of  the  argument  may  seem  to  turn  chiefly 
upon  the  facts  of  observation  and  testimony  which  establish  the  minor 
premise,  or  the  inductions  which  support  the  major,  and  very  little  upon 
the  act  of  bringing  the  two  together  in  the  relations  of  an  argument. 
The  auxiliary  and  preliminary  steps  are  all  that  are  needful.  As  soon  as 
these  are  taken,  the  conjunction  of  the  parts  as  major  and  minor,  as  prin- 
ciple and  case,  as  law  and  fact,  might  naturally  occur  to  the  mind  and  give 
the  inevitable  conclusion.  In  geometrical  reasoning,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
establishment  of  the  conclusion  sought  for,  depends  almost  entirely  on  the 
skilful  suggestion  of  the  appropriate  auxiliary  lines,  and  the  orderly  con- 
catenation of  the  several  arguments,  so  that  they  may  tend  to  and  issue 
in  one  result.  In  common  life,  the  issue  of  the  reasoning  depends  upon 
the  establishment  of  certain  facts,  in  connection  with  certain  principles. 
Upon  the  proof  of  the  facts  and  the  enforcement  and  illustration  of  the 
principles,  the  reasoner  expends  the  resources  of  memory  and  invention, 
of  wit  and  eloquence.  The  facts  being  established  and  the  principles 
received,  the  argument  enforces  itself  (cf.  Trendelenburg,  Log.  Unter- 
suchungen,  ii.  280-83). 

The  invention  of  middle  terms,  or  media  of  proof,  is  an  art  or  power  in 
and  establish-  respect  to  which  men  differ  more  widely  than  in  respect  to  the  merely  logical 
terms  °*  middle  power,  or  the  capacity  to  derive  conclusions  from  their  premises.  There  is 

a  greater  diversity  in  regard  to  the  readiness,  fertility,  and  appropriateness 
of  the  materials  which  we  can  command,  than  in  the  power  to  discern  the  applicability  of  the 
law,  the  principle,  or  the  reason  to  the  case  which  we  have  in  hand.  Upon  skill  and  aptness 
in  these  processes,  is  founded  very  largely  the  estimate  in  which  the  ability  of  a  reasoner  is 
held.  Preeminence  in  these  goes  very  far  to  determine  the  reputation  of  a  powerful  debater 
or  controversialist.  But  this  affluence  of  invention  and  skill  in  selection  must  be  attended 
with  a  ready  tact  in  forecasting  all  the  results  of  a  multitude  of  deductive  processes,  when 
applied  to  all  the  cases  which  the  fancy  suggests.  There  must  be  present  the  power  to  gen- 
eralize the  highest  and  the  remotest  abstractions,  the  habit  of  seeing  all  facts  in  their  relations 
to  their  principles  and  reasons,  the  capacity  to  hold  the  attention  evenly  and  steadily  in  long 
and  closely-connected  series  of  deductions,  all  which  capacities  come  only  from  the  special 
development,  and  usually  from  the  patient  and  practised  training  of  the  philosophical  powers. 
When  these  habits  are  matured  by  such  training,  the  soul  learns  to  act  with  the  precision  and 
rapidity  of  intuition.  It  must  so  act  in  order  to  reason  with  success  when  pressed  by  a  powerful 
antagonist,  in  the  haste  and  excitement  of  debate,  or  under  the  unexpected  and  ingenious 
assaults  or  defences  which  are  elicited  in  an  active  controversy. 

often  the  most  '•^ne  establishment  of  the  principles  or  the  reasons  which  are 
important  ^part  involved  and  required  in  an  argument,  is  often  the  point  of 
chief  importance.  In  such  a  case,  the  power  to  discern  the 
widest  relations,  and  to  analyze  the  most  subtle  properties,  comes  most 
into  play.  Inasmuch  as  in  what  is  called  induction,  the  deductive  power 
is  prominently  employed,  there  can  be  no  question  that  in  this  part  of  tho 
reasoning  process,  the  logical  faculty,  or  power  of  analytic  and  consistent 
thinking  is  especially  tasked,  and  superiority  in  it  is  necessarily  manifest 


§463.  REASONING. VARIETIES    OF   DEDUCTION.  467 

The  po  ver  to  fall  back  upon  principles  readily  and  surely,  and  to  apply 
them  to  special  cases  with  aptness  and  force,  is  the  power  which  distin- 
guishes the  reasoner  from  the  man  of  extensive  knowledge,  the  man  of 
fertile  invention,  the  man  of  ready  wit,  or  the  man  eloquent  in  descrip- 
tion and  appeal.  All  these  endowments,  either  singly  or  in  combination, 
give  richness  and  force  to  the  argument.  It  is  a  command  of  the  princi- 
ples that  are  required  to  establish  the  truths  or  events  which  are  in  ques- 
tion, which  distinguishes  one  as  a  reasoner.  To  this  power  must  be 
euperadded,  as  it  is  always  supposed,  the  capacity  to  proceed  with  logical 
clearness  and  rigor  from  the  reason  to  the  conclusion.  When  the  succes- 
sion of  arguments  is  complicated  and  long,  when  the  facts  are  so  numerous 
as  to  tend  to  distract  the  attention,  when  plausible  reasons  for  error 
or  falsehood  closely  resemble  those  which  are  valid  and  pertinent, 
the  power  to  maintain  a  series  of  deductions  steadily  to  their  one 
result  is,  strictly  speaking,  the  logical  or  deductive  power.  This  marks 
the  logician  proper,  as  he  is  contrasted  with  and  distinguished  from  the 
reasoner. 

§  463.    We  are  now  prepared  to  answer  the  question  which 

Does    deduction      °  .  M 

knodid°  °ur  has  been  frequently  and  earnestly  agitated,  whether  deduc- 
tion adds  to  our  knowledge.  Many  have  contended  that  it 
does  not  and  cannot.  They  urge,  that  if  we  know  the  major  premise, 
we  already  know  the  conclusion ;  that  when  we  assent  to  the  major,  All 
men  are  mortal,  we  have  already  settled  the  question,  that  Peter  also  is 
mortal,  and  that  whatever  advantage  there  may  be  in  using  an  argument 
to  this  conclusion,  it  does  not  add  to  our  stock  of  knowledge.  We  do 
not,  it  is  urged,  gain  by  it  any  new  truth. 
„,  To  this  argument,  in  the  form  in  which  it  is  ursced.  we  miarht 

Whataman  .  .  . 

may  need  to  be  reply,  in  the  first  place,  that  if  we  substitute  for  "  we  know 
.  already,"  the  phrase  "  we  might  know  if  we  would  think  or 
reflect,'1''  there  would  be  less  reason  to  object  to  it.  For  the  very  object 
of  reasoning  is  often  to  lead  a  person  to  reflect  or  think  concerning  the 
facts  or  principles  to  which  he  assents.  Thus,  when  a  man  institutes  a 
process  of  deduction,  or  follows  one  presented  by  another,  one  of  three 
things  may  be  true.  First,  he  may  never  have  accepted,  through  igno- 
rance or  want  of  thought,  the  major  premise,  the  principle  or  reason 
which  it  involves,  or,  at  least,  not  so  distinctly  as  to  be  ready  to  apply  it 
in  every  particular  case.  But  he  may  be  induced  to  accept  it  for  the  first 
time  by  the  very  excitement  of  the  occasion — i.  e.,  by  the  use  or  applica- 
tion which  is  to  be  made  of  it.  This  proposal  may  so  challenge  and 
excite  his  attention,  that  he  is  induced  to  reflect  upon  it  in  order  to  apply 
it.  Second,  he  may  never  before  have  accepted  the  minor  so  as  to  be  able 
to  connect  it  with  the  general  truth,  even  though  it  had  already  been 
familiar  to  his  knowledge  and  assent.  Third,  he  may  have  accepted  both 
major  and  minor,  but  may  never  have  thought  of  the  two  in  such  a  conr 


468  THE    HUMAN     INTELLECT.  §464. 

nection  as  to  perceive  that  relatioo  between  the  two  which  involves  the 
truth  of  the  conclusion. 

This  last  would  not  be  accepted  as  possible  by  those  who  view  the  dictum  de  omni  el 
nullo  as  giving  the  entire  theory  of  the  deductive  process.  Such  persons  would  contend  that 
we  must  know  the  parts  before  we  know  the  whole  ;  and,  indeed,  in  order  that  we  may  know 
the  whole ;  and  that,  therefore,  if  we  already  know  the  whole,  as  expressed  in  the  major  pre- 
mise, we  must  also  have  known  the  parts,  thereby  rendering  the  deductive  process  super- 
fluous. But  this  reductio  ad  absurdum  proves  that  this  theory  of  the  deductive  process  must 
itself  be  defective,  rather  than  that  the  process  itself  does  not  add  to  our  knowledge. 

In  the  second  place,  an  argument  is  usually  addressed  to  a  person  who 
has  not  accepted  a  conclusion,  by  a  person  who  has  accepted  it.  The  one 
who  uses  the  argument,  knows  this  conclusion  to  be  true.  The  person  to 
whom  it  is  addressed  does  not  know  it.  The  argument  is  the  means  used 
to  make  him  know  it.  In  some  sense  of  the  phrase,  it  adds  to  the  knowl 
edge  of  the  person  whom  it  convinces.  It  ordinarily  does  this  by  leading 
him  so  to  reflect,  that  he  enlarges  his  knowledge  or  his  belief.  First,  it 
may  be,  he  is  led  to  accept  the  major ;  next,  he  assents  to  the  minor ;  and 
last  of  all,  he  is  induced  so  to  connect  the  two,  that  he  himself  is  con- 
vinced, and  of  himself  accepts  the  conclusion. 

Reasoning  is,  in  fact,  constantly  employed  to  enlarge  the  knowledge  of  men. 

Deduction,      in     jt  wouid  be  idle,  as  it  might  seem,  to  contend  that  the  student  of  a  system  of 

fact,       enlarges 

our  knowledge.      geometry  does  not  thereby  add  to  his  knowledge,  or  that  all  the  knowledge 

which  he  gains  is  acquired  by  induction  or  intuition.  It  seems  to  be  almost 
trifling  to  assert,  that  a  student  of  philosophy,  whether  natural,  moral,  or  political,  does  not 
increase  his  knowledge  by  the  study  of  the  many  arguments  which  he  encounters ;  that  it  is 
the  new  facts  which  he  acquires,  or  the  fresh  inductions  which  he  makes,  which  alone  increase 
his  acquisitions.  Deduction  is  constantly  employed  as  a  means  of  instruction  in  all  depart, 
ments  of  science,  and  it  would  seem  with  the  greatest  advantage  to  those  who  gain  knowl- 
edge thereby. 

It  may  not  be  true,  that  reasoning  imparts  the  knowledge  of  new  facts.  It 
Deduction  may  usually  happens  that  the  mind  has  already  accepted  the  facts  which  are  con- 
facts  G£  '  cerned,  as  unquestionably  true.  Or,  if  it  should  chance  that  some  new  fact 

or  facts  are  established  in  the  course  of  an  argument,  it  is  not  the  facts  that 
are  counted  of  conseqitence,  but  it  is  the  relation  of  these  facts  to  the  principle  or  reason 
which  is  of  prime  importance. 

8  464.    This  leads  us  to  the  decisive  answer  to  this  view  ot 

The    knowledge       ,-,-,.  TT-          i    i          • 

of  relations    the   deductive   process.     Knowledge  is   as   truly  concerned 

more  important.  * 

with  the  apprehension  ot  relations,  as  with  the  cognition  ot 
facts.  If  we  turn  to  the  definition  of  knowledge  which  was  originally 
laid  down,  we  shall  find  that  the  apprehension  of  relations  is  as  important 
an  element  in  the  process  as  the  apprehension  of  facts,  and  that  the  various 
sorts  or  kinds  of  knowledge  are  distinguished  as  truly  by  the  relation* 
which  are  known,  as  they  are  by  the  objects  between  which  these  relations 
exist.  New  or  additional  knowledge  is  as  properly  the  knowledge  under 
lew  relations  of  facts  already  known  or  very  familiar,  as  the  acquisition  of 


§464.  INDUCTIVE   REASONING   OB  INDUCTION.  46fl 

new  facts  by  observation,  testimony,  or  intuition.  Deduction  applies 
reasons  to  facts  or  events,  in  order  to  establish  their  truth,  or  explain  theii 
existence  or  occurrence.  It  is  often  required,  as  we  know,  to  convince 
ourselves  or  others  that  a  fact  or  event  must  have  been  true  or  must  have 
occurred.  The  man  that  is  convinced  by  such  a  process  of  the  reality  of 
the  fact,  must  thereby  have  gained  new  knowledge  of  its  relations. 

Or,  again,  the  process  is  applied  to  explain  why  it  occurred ;  the  fact 
or  event  being  admitted,  the  reason  for  its  occurrence  is  asked  for.  When 
that  reason  is  given  by  the  application  of  the  deductive  process,  the  fact 
*s  known  in  a  new  relation.  The  knowledge  of  the  fact  as  explained  by 
its  reason  is  certainly  new  knowledge.  Deduction  applies  general  causes, 
elements  or  properties,  as  reasons  to  confirm  or  explain  events  and  facts. 
It  not  only  adds  to  our  knowledge,  but  it  adds  knowledge  which  is 
eminent  for  its  worth  and  dignity — thought-knowledge  of  the  highest  kind 
— knowledge  in  the  light  of  the  principles  and  laws  which  govern  and 
explain  all  individual  facts  and  events. 

Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  (Principles  of  Psychology),  and  Mr.  George  Henry  Lewes  (Aristotle,  §  64,  64  a.) 
deserve  great  credit  for  the  advance  which  they  have  made  upon  Mr.  J.  S.  Mill,  in  so  distinctly  asserting 
the  truth,  that  what  we  call  the  knowledge  of  facts  involves  the  knowledge  of  relations.  But  they  all  labor 
in  their  exposition  of  reasoning,  both  deductive  and  inductive,  under  the  common  defect  of  being  com- 
pelled by  the  fundamental  principle  of  the  positivist  metaphysics  to  reject  all  relations  except  those  of 
co-existence  and  of  succession,  L  e.,  to  admit  the  relations  of  time  and  space  in  some  sort,  but  to  exclude  the 
relations  of  causation  and  design.  Hence  Mr.  Lewes  is  shut  up  to  the  necessity  of  saying,  that  "  correct 
reasoning  is  the  ideal  assemblage  of  objects  in  their  true  relations  of  co-existence  and  succession."  (Aris- 
totle,  §  65.) 

It  is  quite  remarkable  that  Mr.  Lewes,  after  proceeding  so  far  in  the  right  direction,  should  have  the 
boldness  to  say  that  the  method  which  recognizes  two  relations,  viz.,  those  of  co-existence  and  of  succession, 
is  the  scientific;  and  the  method  which  recognizes  two  more,  viz.,  those  of  causation  and  adaptation,  is  the 
metaphysical,  and  then  should  define  "metaphysics"  as  "the  coordination  of  unverified  facts,"  and 
•'science"  as  "the  coordination  of  verified  facts."  (Cf.  Aristotle,  §  75."> 


CHAPTER  Vin. 

INDUCTIVE   REASONING   OB   INDUCTION. 

W «  ha  ye  seen  that,  in  order  to  perform  these  processes  of  deduction  which  relate  to  facts  and 
events — the  processes  called  probable  reasoning— the  mind  must  be  furnished  with  major 
premises  or  general  propositions.  Whether  these  propositions  express  only  the  extent 
of  a  class  in  which  particulars  are  included,  or  general  grounds  or  reasons  by  which  some 
particular  is  explained  or  established,  it  is  obvious  that  such  propositions  must  first  be 
gained  or  furnished,  in  order  that  they  may  be  applied  to  particular  cases.  Unless  such 
premises  are  possessed,  the  process  of  deduction  has  no  meaning.  It  may  not  be  neces- 
sary that  the  major  premise  which  is  required  in  a  given  case,  should  have  been  assented 
to  before  the  occasion  occurs  for  its  application.  So  far  as  lapse  of  time  is  concerned, 
there  may  be  no  interval  perceptible  or  actually  perceived  between  the  act  of  acquiring 


470  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §465 

and  of  applying  the  general  truth.     But  in  the  order  of  thought,  the  two  acts  are  entirety 
different.     They  differ  in  their  nature  and  in  the  grounds  on  which  they  rest. 

The  process  by  which  we  gain  the  truths  thus  applied,  is  called  induction  or  inductivt 
reasoning.  What  is  the  nature  of  this  process  ?  What  are  the  conditions  and  grounds 
of  its  exercise  ?  What  the  assumptions  on  which  it  rests  ?  What  are  its  applications  to 
human  knowledge,  and  what  are  the  rules  for  its  successful  use  ?  These  inquiries  are  all 
natural  and  necessary,  and  present  themselves  for  solution  at  the  present  stage  of  out 
inquiries. 

8  465.    Induction  is    usually    defined    as    the    deriving  of 

Inadequate  defi-      '  . 

nition  of  indue-  generals  jrom  particulars  /  and  in  this  is  contrasted  with 
deduction,  in  which  we  are  said  to  proceed  from  generals  to 
particulars.  This  definition  is  correct  so  far  as  it  goes,  but  it  is  by  no 
means  precise  or  exhaustive.  There  are  many  processes  conceivable  in 
which  we  derive  generals  from  particulars  which  are  not  processes  of 
induction. 

For  example :  We  observe  ten  oranges,  and,  noticing  them  one  by  one,  perceive  a  com. 
mon  likeness  of  qualities.  We  gather  the  results  of  our  observations  into  the  general  judg- 
ment or  proposition :  all  these  oranges  are  slightly  oval,  or  light  yellow,  or  yellow  mottled 
with  green.  It  is  obvious  that  such  a  judgment,  though  general  and  derived  from  particulars, 
has  not  been  gained  by  induction.  Suppose  we  go  further  in  a  similar  direction,  and  derive 
a  general  proposition  which  should  apply  to  all  the  oranges  which  we  have  ever  seen,  or  all 
the  individual  men  whom  we  have  ever  encountered,  or  have  ever  heard  of,  and  assert  of  the 
latter :  all  these  have  died.  Or  suppose  we  assert :  all  crows  are  black,  all  swans  are  white, 
meaning  thereby  all  that  have  as  yet  existed  or  have  been  reported.  Or  suppose  we  carry  the 
generalization  still  higher,  and  assert :  all  ruminants — i.  e.,  those  observed  or  discovered — 
divide  the  hoof.  None  of  these  are  the  general  propositions  which  are  gained  by  induction. 

inductions     of   That  they  cannot  be,  is  obvious  from  the  fact,  that  such 
bei8S  Snde-    propositions  cannot  be  applied  in  deduction.     To  seek  thus 
to  apply  them,  would  be  an  idle  form  attended  by  no  advan- 
tage, and  leading  to  no  conviction. 

If  all  that  we  know  or  had  learned  was  simply  :  all  swans  hitherto  observed  were  white, 
or  all  men  observed  or  reported  have  died,  we  should  already  have  included  in  the  major 
premise  the  truth  of  the  conclusion,  and  it  would  be  idle  to  expand  the  knowledge  already 
gained  into  a  form  of  deduction.  Or,  if  we  had  not  previously  determined  whether  the  indi- 
viduals now  concerned  were  of  the  class  of  swans  or  men,  we  should  not  yet  be  competent  to 
Bay  that  all  swans  were  white,  or  all  men  were  dead  ;  that  is,  we  should  not  have  gained  the 
major  required.  The  moment  that  the  requisite  observations  were  made,  and  we  had  gained 
the  major  required,  we  should  have  gained  the  conclusion ;  i.  e.,  we  should  have  gained  by 
observation,  what  we  might  propose  to  gain  by  reasoning.  With  such  general  propositions  as 
premises,  deductive  reasoning  would  be  either  superfluous  or  impertinent. 

"If  induction,"  says  Galileo,  "must  go  through  every  individual 
instance,  it  would  be  either  useless  or  impossible ;  impossible  if  the 
number  of  cases  were  infinite  ;  useless,  because  then  the  universal  proposi 
tion  would  add  nothing  new  to  our  knowledge."  Apelt.  Theorie  dei 
Induction,  Leipzig,  1854,  p.  142. 


5466.  INDUCTIVE   SEASONING  OR  INDUCTION.  471 

And  yet  inductions  like  these — so-called— have  been  named 

Such  inductions  J 

jtyied  the  purely  by  some  the  only  perfect  or  truly  logical  inductions.  They 
are  called  perfect  for  the  reason  that  the  evidence  for  them 
is  decisive,  and  cannot  admit  the  possibility  of  mistake ;  whatever  is 
true  of  each  part  of  the  extent  of  the  concept,  must  be  true  of  all  when 
taken  together  or  grouped  as  a  whole.  It  is  sufficient  to  observe  that,  if 
they  are  exposed  to  no  error,  they  contribute  no  truth.  They  are  safe 
but  useless.  They  admit  of  no  application,  except  as  a  convenience  for 
the  memory. 

Cf.  Hamilton,  Logic,  Lee.  xvii.  §  62  ;  also  Lee.  xxxiii.  §  108 ;  also  Appendix  vii. 

Whately,  Logic,  B.  iv.  c.  i.,  contends  that  induction  is  properly  applied  to  the  processes 
of  observation  or  experiment,  by  which  the  facts  are  collected  or  from  which  our  inferences  are 
made,  and  that  the  inference  is  properly  an  act  of  deduction  or  syllogistic  reasoning,  the  major 
premise  of  which  is  the  assertion  that  the  facts  observed  and  generalized  represent  the  whole 
class. 

When  they  are  called  truly  logical,  the  process  is  the  reverse  of  what  is  called  pure  logical 
deduction,  i.  e.,  the  simple  analysis  of  the  extent  of  a  concept  into  its  constituent  parts  or 
elements.  But  the  real  import  and  force  of  logical  deduction  is,  as  we  have  seen,  not  found 
in  this  formal  process,  or  the  relations  of  quantity  which  it  involves.  If  the  induction 
described  is  alone  worthy  to  be  dignified  with  the  epithet  of  "  truly  logical,"  it  is  shown  to  be 
worthless  for  the  higher  knowledge  to  which  logical  forms  are  subsidiary. 

8  466.    That  which  is  properly  called  induction  is  a  process 

Examples  of     "  \     ,         J 

proper  indue-  of  another  character.  It  is  the  results  of  this  process  only 
which  are  of  any  use  in  deduction.  Examples  of  it  are  such 
as  these.  I  observe  a  certain  number  of  oranges,  and  notice  their  char- 
acteristics, and  infer  or  believe  that  all  oranges  have  certain  peculiarities 
of  form,  internal  constitution,  habits  of  growth,  etc.,  etc.  In  like  manner, 
I  infer  all  swans  are  and  must  be  white ;  not  merely  all  the  swans  that 
have  existed,  or  those  which  have  been  observed  and  described,  but  the 
whole  species  in  the  past,  the  present,  and  future.  In  such  cases  we  take 
the  examples  which  we  have  observed  to  stand  for  or  represent  the 
entire  class. 

But  by  what  authority  do  we  thus  substitute  the  whole  for  a  part  ?  By  what  process  do 
we  advance  from  the  observation  of  a  few  individuals,  or,  as  the  case  may  be,  of  a  few  species, 
to  a  belief  or  certainty  that  what  is  true  of  these  few  must  hold  good  of  all  that  are  like 
them  ?  The  process  is  certainly  unlike  that  by  which  we  gather  our  individual  observations 
into  a  general  statement,  and  say,  what  is  true  of  the  parts  separately  considered,  is  true  of 
them  all  when  taken  together.  For,  in  every  such  case,  we  affirm,  what  is  observed  of  the 
few,  is  presumed  or  assumed  to  be  true  of  all.  The  ground  of  this  assumption  is,  that  the  fefl 
represent  the  many — that  the  parts  are  a  fair  specimen  or  example  of  the  whole. 

"  C'est  cet  acte  de  ndtre  intelligence  par  lequel  nous  faisons  passer  (ducere  in,  «raywyyj  en  grec)  a  tou.» 
les  point*  de  1'espace  et  de  la  duree,  et  &  une  serie  indefinie  d'existences  semblables  ce  que  nous  avons  observe 
dans  tel  lieu,  dans  tel  moment  et  dans  un  nombre  restreint  d'individus,  qui  est  design6  par  les  philosopher 
» >us  le  uom  d'inducA'on.  Hoc,  dit  Ciceron  (Topic,  c.  10),  ex  pluribus  perveniens  qun  "iull,  appellalur  induetic 
~we  grsece  eiraycoyr  nominaiur."  Diet  des  Sciences  PhilosopJiiques.  Art.  It*lui~tion. 


472  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §463, 

8  467.    It  is  obvious  that  such   assumptions  are  constantly 

Such  inductions      ' 

are  constantly  made  by  us,  and  that  upon  them  rests  not  only  the  entire 
superstructure  of  scientific  knowledge,  but  all  that  practical 
wisdom  which  we  acquire  from  experience.  Indeed,  without  them,  our 
experience  of  the  past  would  be  of  no  use  for  the  future.  Without  these 
assumptions,  the  observation  of  facts  or  events,  and  the  judgments  of 
similarity  and  classification  founded  upon  them,  would  give  us  only  certain 
summaries  of  what  had  occurred  in  the  past,  but  which  could  be  affirmed 
only  of  the  objects  and  events  from  which  they  were  derived.  But  we  do 
more  with  them  than  this.  We  apply  them  to  future  time  and  to  other  objects 
and  events,  with  entire  confidence,  and  without  the  slightest  misgiving. 

We  judge  of  the  taste  and  quality  of  the  food  or  fruits  which  we  eat,  not  only  by  havjng 
eaten  of  one  part  and  inferring  in  respect  to  the  remainder,  but  before  eating,  by  an  induction 
founded  on  the  qualities  which  we  discern  by  the  other  senses — i.  e.,  by  peculiarities  of  form, 
structure,  color,  and  smell.  We  accept  or  reject,  we  desire  or  loathe,  that  which  has  not  been 
tried,  through  our  confidence  in  these  carefully  observed  indications.  We  do  the  same  with 
articles  of  medicine.  We  do  not  care  to  try  each  fresh  piece  of  rhubarb,  or  take  of  every 
new  parcel  of  arsenic,  opium,  or  strychnine,  to  be  convinced,  by  actual  experience,  that  the 
signs  by  which  we  know  the  substance  to  be  rhubarb  or  strychnine,  show  that  it  will  act 
medicinally,  or  destroy  life.  We  do  not  caress  a  ferocious-looking  dog,  or  come  near  a  horse 
who  makes  vicious  demonstrations,  upon  the  wise  suggestion  that  experience  has  not  taught  us 
that  this  particular  dog  will  bite,  or  this  horse  will  kick ;  but  we  give  both  of  them  a  wide 
berth,  on  the  ground  of  observation  or  testimony  in  regard  to  others  like  them.  We  learn,  by 
trial,  that  certain  kinds  of  soil  and  certain  processes  of  culture,  are  favorable  to  the  vine,  the 
strawberry,  the  rose,  and  the  tulip.  We  derive  rules  which  we  assume  will  always  apply 
to  these  plants.  In  the  department  of  science,  we  develop  oxygen  and  hydrogen  from  a 
quantity  of  water,  and  believe  that  water,  whenever  treated  in  a  similar  way,  will  give  the 
same  gases.  By  certain  broader  assumptions,  we  conclude  that  electricity  causes  the  phe- 
nomena of  lightning ;  that  gravitation  holds  the  heavenly  bodies  in  their  places,  and  moves 
them  in  their  orbits.  These  various  kinds  of  knowledge  are  examples,  as  they  are  the  results 
of  the  several  assumptions  referred  to. 

in  *aat  respects  §468.  It  follows  that  judgments  of  induction  differ  from 
f?oumtl08im?fe  simple  judgments,  in  certain  important  particulars.  To 
return  to  our  first  example :  we  see  ten  oranges  with  certain 
well-defined  characteristics  ;  or  it  may  be,  a  hundred  or  a  hundred  thousand. 
Wo  bring  them  under  their  appropriate  concepts,  and  judge  or  affirm 
these  concepts  of  the  individual  objects.  In  induction  we  proceed 
fuither:  we  add  to  these  simple  judgments  yet  another,  viz.,  that  what 
we  have  found  to  be  true  of  these,  may  be  received  as  true  of  all  others 
like  them.  In  other  words,  we  extend  the  original  simple  judgment  to 
other  objects  than  those  to  which  it  was  first  applied.  The  ground  of  the 
first  judgment  is  facts  observed  and  compared.  The  ground  of  the 
second  is  what  is  called  the  analogy  of  nature.  A  judgment  of  indue- 
tion  is  then  a  judgment  of  analytic  observation,  added  to  or  enlarged  lyy 
n  judgment  of  analogy.  The  judgment  of  observation  is  founded  or 


§470.  INDUCTIVE  REASONING  OE  INDUCTION.  473 

observed  similarity.     The  judgment  of  analogy  is  founded  on  interpreted 
indications. 

The  very  words  signs  and  indications,  which  are  used  so  freely  in  common  life  and  in 
icience,  imply  this  very  truth,  viz.,  that  certain  events  or  attributes  that  are  observed,  give 
information  of — i.  e.,  signify  or  indicate — that  which  is  not  thus  known. 

8  469.    What  is  usually  called  experience,  includes  acts  of 

Relation  of  ex-  -,  -, 

pwience  to  in-  induction.  Simple  observation  and  judgment  do  not  con- 
stitute what  we  usually  call  experience  ;  for  this  imports  not 
only  that  we  have  made  and  preserved  observations,  but  also  that  we  are 
capable  of  applying  the  results  in  parallel  cases.  This  implies  the  power 
to  discriminate  between  cases  that  are,  and  those  that  are  not  similar. 
Without  this  power  or  discipline,  observation  or  bare  experience  would 
be  possible,  but  useless.  For  it  would  enable  us  simply  to  attain  and  retain 
our  knowledge  of  the  past,  but  never  to  apply  it  to  the  future. 

We  could  record  what  we  had  observed,  and  generalize  what  we  had  compared,  but  could 
find  neither  wisdom  nor  instruction  for  the  future  and  the  untried.  Those  who  are  so 
ready  to  oppose  facts  to  inferences,  experience  to  theory,  observation  to  speculation,  should 
always  bear  in  mind,  that  in  the  simple  experience  and  observation  of  facts,  there  is  neither 
instruction  nor  use  without  the  added  element  of  induction,  which  is  always  a  judgment  by 
means  of  signs  or  indications  ;  or  an  interpretation  of  facts. 

In  performing  this  process,  or,  more  exactly,  in  this  part  or  step  of  the 
Onution  to  be  process,  much  caution  and  care  are  required.  It  is  by  no  means  true,  that 
judgments  *  '  a^  tne  characteristics  which  occur  together  in  the  same  object  or  event,  can 

be  judged  to  be  necessary  or  essential  companions.  It  might  happen  that 
all  the  oranges  which  we  had  eaten,  had  derived  their  flavor  from  a  particular  tree  or  soil,  and 
yet  were  like  many  other  oranges  in  form,  color,  etc. ;  none  of  which  had  acquired  this  taste. 
The  induction  that  such  characteristics  indicated  this  taste,  would  be  false  and  unauthorized. 
A  man  familiar  with  rabbits  might  never  have  seen  any  which  were  not  gray.  It  would  be  a 
natural  but  false  induction  for  him  to  make,  that  none  were  black  or  white.  A  person  might 
have  succeeded  with  the  crop  of  which  he  had  sown  the  seed  on  a  particular  day  of  the  moon, 
and  have  failed  hi  every  instance  in  which  he  had  sown  on  any  other  day ;  and  yet  the 
induction  might  be  irrational,  that  the  sowing  on  that  day  was  the  cause  of  his  success.  In 
the  hhtory  of  scientific  discoveries,  many  plausible  inductions  have  been  set  aside  as  un- 
tenable. In  valid  inductions,  we  infer  what  is  familiarly  called  a  real,  permanent,  and  con- 
stant connection  between  the  qualities,  attributes,  or  laws  inferred,  and  those  which  were 
observed.  If  we  could  ascertain  and  be  able  to  express  the  grounds  upon  which  we  proceed, 
they  might  be  the  appropriate  evidence  of  a  wise  induction.  The  criteria  by  which  we  judge 
one  process  to  be  legitimate  or  false,  would  be  the  criteria  of  every  correct  judgment  of  this 
kind.  The  rules  for  a  correct  procedure,  if  they  could  be  ascertained,  would  be  the  rules  in 
which  we  might  confide. 

§  470.  In  view  of  these  considerations,  the  questions  return 
correct  theory  of  upon  us  with  augmented  interest  and  importance:  What  is 

the  ground,  what  the  nature,  and  what  are  the  rules  for  a  sound 
induction?  They  are  questions  which  have  often  been  asked,  and  not 
always  very  satisfactorily  or  thoroughly  answered.  As  preliminary  to  the 
development  of  the  correct  answers,  and  to  a  satisfactory  theory  of  indue- 


474  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §471, 

tion,  we  raay  profitably  consider  a  few  examples  in  which  the  process  hag 
been  successfully  applied. 

The  inductions  of  common  life  have  already  been  noticed. 
duca™)ns°of°com-  They  differ  from  the  inductions  of  science,  in  that  their 
results  are  incapable  of  being  reduced  to  universal  state- 
ments to  which  there  are  no  exceptions.  Nor  do  they  result  in  the  dis- 
covery of  ultimate  properties,  agencies,  and  laws.  The  inferences  which 
they  furnish  are  usually  general  maxims  to  which  there  may  be  many 
exceptions,  or  undefined  and  vague  impressions  which  language  can  neither 
embody  nor  impart.  They  are  carried  far  enough  for  practical  convenience, 
but  not  far  enough  for  scientific  curiosity  or  instruction.  Their  results  are 
seen  in  the  common  sense  and  common  prudence  which  are  essential  to 
the  performance  of  the  common  acts  and  duties  of  common  life.  By 
means  of  them  men  interpret  the  signs  of  the  material  universe,  the  dis- 
positions and  acts  of  the  brute  creation,  as  well  as  the  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings of  their  fellows  by  looks  and  actions.  Uncommon  skill  and  readiness 
in  interpreting  such  indications  is  termed  acuteness,  discernment,  sagacity, 
and  tact.  Less  than  the  usual  capacity  to  make  such  inductions  quickly 
and  correctly,  is  denominated  slowness  and  stupidity.  The  average 
capacity  is  called  common  sense  in  one  of  the  senses  of  this  widely-used 
appellation. 

§  471.  The  second  class  of  examples  of  the  process  of  induc- 
ofhscienceUCtl°n8  *^on  *s  furnished.  by  the  discoveries  of  science.  The  induc- 
tions of  common  life  are  in  one  sense  discoveries,  but  the 
indications  are  so  readily  interpreted  and  the  inferences  are  derived  with 
so  great  unanimity  and  universality,  that  the  intellectual  process  (or 
processes)  by  which  they  are  made,  attracts  little  attention,  and  is,  there- 
fore, not  readily  analyzed.  But  when  some  new  and  wonderful  agent  in 
nature  is  brought  to  light,  or  some  new  law  of  its  acting  is  established, 
and  especially  when  the  power  or  law  is  applied  to  some  brilliant  or  useful 
result,  and  we  inquire  with  the  greatest  interest,  How  came  the  discoverer  to 
think  of  that  ?  How  did  he  satisfy  himself  that  what  he  thought  was  true  ? 
we  are  more  likely  to  find  an  answer  to  our  questions,  inasmuch  as  the 
steps  of  the  process  have  often  been  slowly  made,  and  the  considerations 
which  have  led  to  them  can  be  distinctly  reproduced. 

We  select,  first  of  all,  the  brilliant  discovery  by  Franklin  of  the  identity  of 
Franklin's  in-  liqhtninq  with  electricity.  With  the  electrical  agent,  or,  as  it  was  called  in 

aUCTlOn   OI    616C" 

tricity.  his  time,  the  electric  fluid,  Franklin  was  entirely  familiar.     He  was  so  far 

master  of  the  methods  of  developing  it  in  sufficient  quantity  or  intensity,  aa 
to  be  able  to  produce  its  ordinary  and  obvious  phenomena,  as  well  as  to  exhibit  phenomena 
lhat  bad  previously  been  unknown.  He  had  the  electrical  machine  and  the  Leyden  jar,  and 
could  produce  at  pleasure  the  electrical  light,  and  the  report  following  the  connection  of 
bodies  in  opposite  electrical  conditions.  With  these,  then  somewhat  novel  phenomena,  he 
had  become  entirely  familiar  in  observation  and  thought ;  aa  familiar  as  men  in  common  lift 


§  4T1.  INDUCTIVE  SEASONING  OR  INDUCTION.  476 

are  with  the  aspect  or  form  of  a  fruit,  or  with  the  expression  of  a  gentle  ar  vicious  animal 
He  had  also  closely  observed  the  phenomena  of  lightning,  and  had  noticed  similarities  which 
had  never  been  thought  of  before.  The  wave-like  sheet  and  the  zig-zag  line  and  the  loud 
report  were  seen  to  be  like  the  less  impressive  phenomena  of  the  machine  and  the  Leyden 
jar ;  and  it  occurred  to  his  thoughts  that  the  similarity  of  the  phenomena  indicated  a  common 
agent  or  power  as  their  cause.  This  suggestion  was  strengthened  by  the  thought,  that  clouds 
might  be  to  clouds,  or  clouds  to  the  earth^  as  the  opposite  surfaces  of  the  Leyden  jar.  The 
mere  observation  of  similarities  like  these  might  have  satisfied  the  mind  of  Franklin,  that  the 
power  or  fluid  in  the  heavens  must  be  the  same  with  that  which  could  be  accumulated  by  the 
machine  from  the  earth.  When  at  last  he  succeeded  in  bringing  the  power  in  question  to 
affect  a  small  quantity  of  matter,  when  he  made  it  to  run  along  an  insulated  kite-string,  to 
emit  a  spark,  to  charge  a  Leyden  jar — in  short,  to  exhibit  not  only  similar  but  the  same  indica- 
tions with  machine  electricity,  the  induction  could  no  longer  be  doubted.  The  decisive 
experiment  proved  the  correctness  of  the  thought. 

Dr.  Black  was  led  to  the  discovery  of  carbonic  acid  gas,  by  observing  that 
Dr.  Black's  dis-  caustic  lime  increased  in  weight  when  changed  into  common  lime,  and  by 
b^rdc^acid  gas!*"  inferring  that  this  weight  must  be  derived  from  some  agent  of  or  in  the 
atmosphere.  This  suggested  the  thought  that  the  other  alkalies,  being  like 
caustic  lime  in  other  properties,  were  like  it  also  in  this.  The  experiment  was  tried,  and  the 
suggestion  was  found  to  be  correct.  This  put  him  upon  the  inquiry  what  the  agent  was  which 
entered  into  combination  with  all  these  substances.  The  inquiry  resulted  in  the  separation 
of  carbonic  acid  gas  as  a  newly-discovered  agent,  and  the  determination  of  its  properties  and 
laws. 

Lavoisier  discovered  that  a  metal,  by  rusting,  gains  in  weight ;  and  it  being 
Lavoisier's  dis-  previously  known  that  the  phenomena  attending  upon  combustion  and  the 
covery  •  rugtmg  of  metals  were  similar,  oxygen  was  discovered  and  its  properties 

were  ascertained.  The  most  important  step  toward  this  result  was  made 
during  the  previous  researches  concerning  Phlogiston,  which  had  established  the  generalization 
of  a  common  process  in  the  formation  of  iron-rust,  in  acidification,  in  respiration,  and  in 
ordinary  combustion. 

Dalton  is  said  to  have  discovered  the  law  that  chemical  combinations  are 
Dalton's  indue-  effected  by  the  union  of  their  constituent  elements  in  fixed  proportions  ;  and 
t^iat> wnen  a  larger  portion  of  an  agent,  as  oxygen,  enters  into  such  a  combina- 
tion, it  is  invariably  a  multiple  of  a  smaller.  He  was  led  to  this  by  the 
knowledge  that,  in  some  cases,  a  combination  hi  such  proportions  had  hi  fact  been  observed. 
Being  a  teacher  of  mathematics  and  accustomed  to  mathematical  relations,  he  generalized  the 
result  of  a  few  chance  observations  into  a  universal  law  ;  it  "  being  irresistibly  recommended 
by  the  clearness  and  simplicity  which  the  notion  possessed." 

One  of  the  most  instructive  instances  of  modern  discovery,  is  that  achieved 
Davy's  discovery  by  Sir  Humphrey  Davy,  t  of  the  metallic  bases  of  the  alkaline  earths.  The 
etc.  '  im'  similarity  of  appearance  and  of  many  chemical  properties  between  such 

alkalies  as  potash,  soda,  and  lime,  and  the  clearly  identified  oxyds  of  metals, 
had  led  to  the  suggestion,  that  they  were  similar  in  chemical  constitution — i.  e.,  that  they  all 
were  oxyds  of  metals.  But  the  metals  believed  in  do  not  exist  in  nature  in  a  separate 
state,  nor  had  they  ever  been  exhibited  in  separate  form  by  any  agent  of  decomposition  hitherto 
employed.  The  suggestion  that  there  were  such  metals,  and  that  they  might  be  evolved,  waa 
ronfirmed  by  all  the  indications  required  as  evidence,  except  their  actual  production.  The 
application  of  the  galvanic  battery  to  chemical  decomposition,  and  the  triumphant  success 
which  had  attended  its  use,  led  Davy  to  try  it  upon  the  hitherto  intractable  and  irreducible 
potash.  Under  the  solvent  power  of  this  wondrous  agent,  the  knot  which  had  never  before 
been  unloosed  was  untied  in  an  instant.  At  the  magic  touch  of  this  new  instrument,  th« 
little  globe  of  the  newly-discovered  metal  leaped  into  view,  and  the  happy  suggestion  was  con 


470  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §472. 

firmed  and  accepted  as  an  undoubted  fact.  It  scarcely  needed  the  experiment  to  convince 
the  sagacious  interpreter  of  the  secrets  of  nature,  that  similar  metals  were  encrusted 
within  common  lime  and  soda.  The  discoverer  was  almost  as  certain  before  as  after  the  batterf 
was  applied,  that  calcium  and  sodium  would  in  fact  be  evolved. 

The  consideration  that  the  electric  agency  could  alone  overcome  coinbina- 
nof  thl     tions  like  these>  in  its  turn  started  the  suggestion  that  the  union  of  all 


electric  and  chemical  elements  is  to  be  ascribed  to  the  electric  force,  acting  in  certain 
methods  and  after  certain  laws,  and  that  their  tendency  to  unite  is  overcome 
by  bringing  these  elements  into  an  opposite  electrical  condition.  This  suggestion  was  tested 
by  i  great  variety  of  experiments,  with  such  results  as  to  establish  it  as  a  truth  beyond  the 
possibility  of  doubt  or  question  ;  thus  bringing  chemical  laws  and  the  electrical  force  into  a 
intimate  relation. 


8  472.  In  the  last  series  of  discoveries  we  notice  the  following 

Th*i  order  of     '5 

tiioi.ght  in  these  order  and  progress  of  thought  and  experiment.  First,  the 
oxyds  of  metals  were  observed  to  be  like  the  alkalies  in 
certain  important  properties.  But  the  metallic  oxyds  were  known  to  be 
produced  by  chemical  changes  ;  copper,  iron,  etc.,  constantly  undergoing 
this  process  before  our  eyes.  The  two  substances  being  alike  in  certain 
particulars,  it  was  conjectured  that  they  were  alike  in  others.  If  the 
simple  potassium  had  been  within  reach,  or  could  have  been  found  in  a 
separate  state,  the  readiest  way  to  determine  the  point  would  have  been 
to  oxydize  potassium,  and  see  whether  the  result  would  be  potash.  The 
next  thing  was  to  c&-oxydize  it  —  i.  e.,  to  undo  what  nature  was  supposed 
to  have  done,  or  rather  to  separate  the  elements  which  nature  was  sup- 
posed to  have  united.  This  was  accomplished  by  the  agency  of  galvanism. 
It  was  then  observed  that  this  galvanic  agency  could  decompose  many 
chemical  compounds  which  were  exceedingly  unlike,  and  it  was  suggested 
that  possibly  there  were  none  which  it  could  not  overcome.  If  this  were 
so,  it  would  follow,  according  to  the  known  laws  of  this  agent,  that  the 
force  which  held  them  in  union,  must  be  electric.  This  was  established 
by  its  appropriate  evidence,  and  is  called  by  Whewell,  "  the  highest 
generalization  at  which  chemical  philosophers  have  yet  arrived."  Hist. 
Inductive  Sciences,  B.  xiv.  c.  10. 

The  mental  process  is  precisely  the  same  which  has  been  already 
described.  Certain  objects  are  seen  to  be  alike  in  certain  properties  or 
laws.  It  is  believed  or  judged  that  the  similarity  in  these  particulars 
indicates  likeness  in  others.  Potash  is  like  iron-rust  in  certain  re- 
spects ;  therefore  it  is  like  iron-rust  in  being  the  oxyd  of  a  metal.  All 
chemical  compounds  are  strikingly  alike  in  certain  particulars.  Certain 
of  these  are  separable  by  the  electric  force;  therefore  all  are  separable 
by  this  agency.  But  if  separable  by  it,  all  are  held  in  union  by  the  same 
force. 
Discoveries  in  From  discoveries  of  this  kind  we  pass  to  those  in  astronomic 

Col 

Kepler,  and  Newton. 


al  physics  —  to    the    discoveries   of    Copernicus, 


§  472.  INDUCTIVE  REASONING  OR  INDUCTION.  477 

Copernicus  begins  by  discovering,  as  it  is  said,  the  heliocentric  theory  of  the  solai 
system.  The  way  in  which  he  was  led  to  adopt  and  defend  it,  is  described  by  himself.  He 
had  found  in  ancient  authors,  accounts  of  Philolaus  and  others  who  had  asserted  the  motioc 
of  the  earth.  "  Then  I  began  to  meditate  concerning  the  motion  of  the  earth ;  and  though 
it  appeared  an  absurd  opinion,  yet,  since  I  knew  that  in  previous  times  others  had  been 
allowed  the  privilege  of  feigning  what  circles  they  chose,  in  order  to  explain  the  phenomena, 
I  conceived  that  I  also  might  take  the  liberty  of  trying  whether,  on  the  supposition  of  the 
earth's  motion,  it  was  possible  to  find  better  explanations  than  the  ancient  ones  of  the  revolu- 
tions of  the  celestial  orbs. 

"  Having,  then,  assumed  the  motions  of  the  celestial  orbs  which  are  hereafter  explained, 
by  laborious  and  long  observation  I  at  length  found  that,  if  the  motions  of  the  other  planets 
oe  compared  with  the  revolution  of  the  earth,  not  only  their  phenomena  follow  from  the 
supposition,  but  also  that  the  several  orbs  and  the  whole  system  are  so  connected  in  order  and 
magnitude,  that  no  one  part  can  be  transposed  without  disturbing  the  rest,  and  introducing 
confusion  into  the  universe." 

"Thus,"  says  Whewell,  "the  satisfactory  explanation  of  the  apparent  motions  of  the 
planets,  and  the  simplicity  and  symmetry  of  the  system,  were  the  grounds  on  which  Copernicus 
adopted  his  theory ;  as  the  craving  for  these  qualities  was  the  feeling  which  led  him  to  neek 
for  a  new  theory."  Whewell,  Hist.  Ind.  Sciences,  B.  v.  c.  ii. 

In  1609  Galileo  constructed  his  telescope,  and  very  soon  discovered  the 
Preparations  for  satellites  of  Jupiter.  This  at  once  confirmed  the  Copernican  theory,  by 
XeVton.OVeiT  °f  opening  before  the  eyes  of  men  another  system  subordinate  to  the  solar, 

of  heavenly  bodies  revolving  about  their  primaries,  thus  giving  an  analogon 
of  the  greater.  The  subsequent  discovery  by  the  same  instrument  of  the  phases  of  Venus,  at 
once  confirmed  the  new  theory  of  the  revolution  of  the  planets  about  the  sun,  and  answered 
an  objection  against  it  by  explaining  why  Yenus  did  not  appear  larger  when  nearer  the 
beholder. 

Copernicus  furnished  the  suggestion  by  reflecting  on  the  known  fact,  that  the  apparent  places 
of  objects  may  be  accounted  for  by  the  motion  of  one  or  both,  and  that  the  solution  or  theory 
which  was  the  simplest,  was  to  be  preferred.  Galileo,  by  his  telescope,  prepared  the  way 
for  the  experiment,  by  enabling  observers,  in  a  certain  sense,  to  observe  for  themselves,  which 
moved — the 'sun  or  the  earth. 

Kepler  prepared  the  way  for  the  sublime  discoveries  of  Newton,  by  his 
Process  by  which  determination  of  the  orbits  of  some  of  the  planets,  and  the  law  of  their 
STiSluS!  *°  motions.  Newton  had  been  himself  familiar  with  the  law  by  which,  in 

obedience  to  terrestrial  gravity,  bodies  fall  to  the  earth's  surface.  The  first 
thought  which  led  him  to  extend  this  agent  to  the  celestial  bodies  occurred  to  him  in  1666, 
when  he  had  retired  into  the  country  from  Cambridge,  in  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age. 
"  As  he  sat  alone  in  a  garden,  he  fell  into  a  speculation  on  the  power  of  gravity ;  that,  a?  this 
power  is  not  found  sensibly  diminished  at  the  remotest  distance  from  the  centre  of  the  earth 
to  which  we  can  rise,  neither  at  the  tops  of  the  loftiest  buildings,  nor  even  on  the  summits 
of  the  highest  mountains,  it  appeared  to  him  reasonable  to  conclude  that  this  power  must 
extend  much  further  than  was  usually  thought.  '  Why  not  as  high  as  the  moon  ?  '  said  he  to 
himself;  'and,  if  so,  her  motion  must  be  influenced  by  it;  perhaps  she  is  retained  in  her 
orbit  thereby.'  "  Pemberton,  View  of  Newton's  Philosophy.  Preface.  Upon  this  suggestion, 
he  proceeded  to  the  calculation  of  the  deflection  of  the  moon  from  a  tangent  to  its  orbit  in  a 
tingle  second  ;  it  being  assumed  that  the  moon  was  at  the  distance  from  the  earth  which  was 
then  received.  The  result  disappointed  him;  for  he  found  that  this  deflection  would  be 
thirteen  feet,  which  did  not  correspond  with  that  required  by  the  supposition  that  gravity 
deflected  it.  He  laid  his  calculation  aside  for  years.  The  subsequent  discovery  that  the 
course  described  by  a  falling  body  is  an  ellipse,  and  that  the  distance  of  the  moon  from  the 


478  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  473 

earth  could  be  correctly  ascertained,  enabled  him  to  accept  his  theory  on  the  ground  that  H 
coincided  w  ith  actual  fact.  The  distance  of  the  moon  had  previously  been  computed  on  an 
assumed  but  mistaken  diameter  of  the  earth.  A  more  accurate  measurement  of  a  degree 
upon  the  earth's  surface  led  to  a  correction  of  the  distance  of  the  moon,  and  Newton's  theorj 
was  henceforward  accepted  as  a  demonstrated  truth.  He  first  conjectures  that  the  extension 
of  a  known  force  from  the  earth  to  the  heavens,  is  possible  and  rational.  He  asks,  "  if  so  '; 
"  what  then  ?  "  following  out  his  induction  by  a  mathematical  deduction.  He  then,  by  othei 
mathematical  calculations,  tests  this  by  a  decisive  experiment,  and  the  conjectured  agent  is 
established  as  a  vera  causa,  and  its  laws  are  carefully  computed :  the  true  theory  of  the 
heavenly  bodies  is  forever  settled. 

Wh  inductions  §  4^3*  ^ne  exaraples  cited  are  sufficient  to  illustrate  the 
the  Pmostc  Btrit  na>ture  °f  the  inductive  process  and  the  assumptions  on  which 
ing-  it  rests.  They  have  been  taken  from  the  physical  sciences, 

not  because  these  differ  essentially  from  those  which  concern  moral  and 
political  subjects,  but  because  they  are  better  suited  for  our  purpose.  The 
objects  with  which  they  are  concerned  are  more  interesting  to  the  majority 
of  men.  The  effects  of  discoveries  in  them  are  more  obvious.  The 
experiments  and  observations  which  have  led  to  them  are  more  brilliant 
and  startling.  Many  of  their  results  are  permanently  fixed  in  the  arts  of 
life,  both  useful  and  ornamental.  Some  of  them  are  continually  brought 
home  to  our  thoughts  by  engines  and  instruments  which  materially  con- 
tribute to  the  convenience  and  comfort  of  man.  The  telescope,  the  prism, 
the  quadrant,  the  hydraulic  press,  the  steam  engine,  the  galvanic  battery, 
are  all  permanent  memorials  of  what  these  processes  have  wrought,  and 
they  prompt  to  eager  inquiries  after  the  secret  operations  by  which  they 
were  first  constructed  in  thought. 

DO  not  differ  ^ne  attentive  consideration  of  these  examples  proves  that 
°f  in^uction  in  science  is  substantially  the  same  process  with 
induction  in  common  life — that  it  is  a  process  of  interpreting 
indications, — in  other  words  :  of  judging  by  means  of  discerned  prop- 
erties and  laws  that  there  are  others  which  we  have  not  yet  discerned, 
and  could  neither  notice  nor  know  by  direct  observation. 
Why  are  the  in-  §  4^4'  ^h*8  assertion  would  prompt  the  inquiries,  Why,  then, 
ence  moreVffl-  are  ^e  Pr°cesses  of  common  induction  so  easy  and  those  of 
cult  ?  science  so  difficult  ?  Why  is  the  progress  to  common  sense 

so  easily  and  rapidly  made  in  the  infancy  and  childhood  of  the  individual, 
and  why  have  the  advances  of  science  been  so  difficult  ?  Why  so  long 
delayed  ? — why,  even  now,  is  it  true  that  in  respect  to  so  many  branches 
of  knowledge  the  race  is  yet  in  its  infancy  ?  To  these  questions  the  fol- 
lowing answers  can  be  given.  It  is  important  to  consider  the  facts  which 
they  present,  because  they  tend  to  throw  important  light  upon  the  nature 
of  the  process  of  scientific  induction. 

§  475.  We  notice  first,  that  in  science,  the  properties  observed, 
an<^  which  are  the  indicia  or  indicators  of  others,  are  less 
obtrusive  than  those  used  in  common  life,  and  are  often 


g  477.  INDUCTIVE  REASONING  OR  INDUCTION.  479 

far  removed  from  common  observation.     To  be  apprehended  even,  they 
require  closer  attention  than  men  in  common  life  are  able  to  give. 

If  they  were  able  to  fix  their  attention  upon  them  with  success,  they  would  not  be  willing 
to  do  it  from  the  lack  of  that  interest,  that  strong  curiosity  which  is  rarely  developed  and 
matured  into  a  habit,  except  by  special  training  in  some  school  of  art  or  science.  Many  of 
these  properties  can  only  be  apprehended  by  some  nicely  constructed  aid  to  the  powers  of 
sense,  or  some  costly  and  ingeniously  devised  apparatus  ;  to  the  production  of  which  special 
inventive  sagacity  was  required,  which  sagacity  has  itself  been  the  fruit  of  many  men  or 
generations  which  have  gone  before.  One  instrument  has  grown  out  cf  another,  or  it 
has  been  slowly  perfected  in  its  constituent  parts.  Every  such  improvement  has  enabled  the 
observer  to  perceive  properties  or  to  effect  measurements  which  were  entirely  beyond  the 
notice  and  the  reach  of  the  unaided  powers  of  perception. 


Require    more  '  inductions  of  common  life  are  founded 

discriminating      on   observations   that   are   not   discriminating.      Those   of 

observations.  f  <  ° 

science  rest  upon  the  sharpest  analysis.  The  common  ob- 
server obserres  facts  and  detects  principles  in  regard  to  things  or  powers 
in  the  gross,  either  as  they  are  combined  or  are  worked  in  nature.  He 
does  not  go  far  beyond  the  things  and  phenomena  which  the  common 
necessities  of  life  require  men  to  distinguish,  which  things  and  results, 
in  their  constitution,  are,  causes  and  laws  ordinarily  more  or  less  com- 
plex. The  scientific  observer  continually  aims  to  detect  and  separate,  by 
a  refined  and  acute  analysis,  powers  and  agents  which  are  never  divided 
except  by  artificial  appliances,  —  and  some  of  which  are  never  parted  even 
by  these.  Hence  the  experiments  of  common  sense  and  the  experiments  of 
science,  are  very  different. 

Common  sense  observes  the  effects  of  objects  and  powers  as  they  are  brought  together 
or  divided  by  the  manipulations  of  nature.  Science  parts  and  conjoins,  in  every  possible 
method,  with  the  express  design  of  observing  some  effect,  which  effect  shall,  in  its  turn,  de- 
cide some  question  of  curious  intelligence.  Science  often  violates  or  intensifies  some  par- 
ticular power  or  property,  in  order  to  consider  it  alone.  She  separates  or  accumulates  in 
order  that  she  may  estimate  or  measure  gravity,  electricity,  light,  or  heat.  She  becomes 
familiar  with,  and  treats  and  talks  of  these  as  though  they  were  distinct  agents  in  the  uni- 
vers9.  It  becomes  in  a  certain  sense  true  that  the  scientific  observer  creates  a  special  and 
separate  world  of  objects  for  himself. 

The  inductions    §  ^^*  r^l'LT^  '•  Many  of  the   inductions   in   science   are   far 
of  science  more    more  general  and  comprehensive  than  those  of  common  life. 

comprehensive.  .       °  J 

It  is  a  fact  of  the  universe  of  matter  and  of  mind,  —  explain 
it  or  not  as  we  .may  —  that  these  subtle  agents  or  laws  which  science 
detects  one  by  one,  are  far  more  general  and  extensive  than  those  which 
observation  discerns. 

Of  course  they  furnish  the  ground  for  more  varied  inductions.  They  can  be  applied  to 
explain  a  greater  number  of  individual  phenomena.  They  suggest  very  many  possible 
theories.  They  incite  to  a  manifold  greater  number  of  experiments.  When  any  such  com- 
prehensive power  or  attribute  is  established,  it  can  be  used  in  a  large  number  of  deductions. 

The  deeper  we  go  beneath  the  surface  we  not  only  find  things  which  are  more  novel  than 


480  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  479 

the  casual  and  practical  observer  notices,  but  we  find  things  which  are  immeasurably  better 
fitted  for  science,  which  seeks  for  comprehensive  causes  and  general  laws,  that  for  this  ven 
reason  are  unifying  and  explaining  principles. 

8  478.    Fourth :    Another  fact    must    not   be    overlooked. 

Recognize    ma- 
thematical   re-    Many  of  these   agents  operate  under  geometrical  relations, 

lations.  *  .  .  ,3? 

and  according  to  arithmetical  rules.  They  are  thereby  con- 
nected with  relations  which  are  at  once  the  most  varied  in  their  applica- 
tion, and  capable  of  the  most  definite  description  and  computation. 

The  relations  of  space  and  number  are  capable  of  being  affirmed  of  every  material  entity 
and  force,  and  hence  if  any  are  found  to  exist  and  act  according  to  such  relations  we  have  at 
once  the  ground  or  means  of  a  very  comprehensive  generalization.  The  language  of  mathe- 
matics is  the  most  precise  and  intelligible,  the  most  easily  communicated,  and  the  most 
easily  understood  of  all  language.  The  tests  of  measure,  weight,  and  quantity  are  the  most 
easily  applied  of  all  tests. 

The  sciences  of  space  and  number  are  also  capable  of  the  clearest,  the  most  convincing,  and 
the  most  fruitful  of  deductions,  and  hence  so  far  as  they  can  be  legitimately  applied,  they  can 
most  readily  test  experiments  and  record  their  results.  One  of  the  distinguishing  peculiar- 
ities of  scientific  inductions  is  found  in  the  circumstance  that  they  are  so  widely,  and  severely 
mathematical. 

§  479.    Fifth :    Science  is  essentially  more  a  growth  than  is 

One     induction     '  .  /v J  .      . 

prepares  the  way  any  other  species  of  knowledge.  One  discovery  not  only  in 
fact  prepares  the  way  for  another  in  the  actual  history  and 
order  of  man's  attainments,  but  by  the  necessary  dependence  of  one  dis- 
covered law  or  agent  upon  another.  The  discovery  of  the  law  of  universal 
gravitation  was  in  the  nature  of  the  case  impossible  without  the  aid  of 
pure  Geometry,  Algebra^  the  Calculus^  and  the  laws  of  Mechanics.  Optics, 
with  the  use  and  the  invention  of  the  telescope,  had  been  in  part  de- 
veloped before,  and  in  part  perfected  by  Newton,  before  they  could  be  ap- 
plied by  him  to  this  particular  discovery.  In  almost  every  great  induc- 
tion, many  of  the  sciences  and  arts  are  laid  under  contribution.  All  previous 
steps  are  presupposed  in  order  that  a  single  forward  step  may  be  taken. 

This  is  true  only  to  a  very  limited  degree  of  the  inductions  of  common  life.  The  well- 
qualified  and  well-trained  man  can  with  no  great  difficulty  develop  of  himself  much  that  the  race 
has  ever  gained  by  common  sense  and  observation,  or  appropriate  and  master  it  with  ease.  In 
many  things  it  is  true  the  common  sense  of  to-day  in  a  refined  and  educated  community  in 
England  or  America  appropriates  the  products  which  the  common  sense  and  experience  of  others 
have  matured  and  preserved  in  language,  traditions,  manners  and  institutions  ;  but  all  these  are 
taken  up  by  the  mind  with  marvellous  ease  and  require  but  little  of  that  discipline,  which  the 
mastery  of  the  circle  of  those  sciences  which  are  necessary  for  success,  imposes  upon  the 
discoverer.  There  is  very  little  difference  between  the  common  sense  of  Socrates  and  the 
common  sense  of  the  honest  and  independent  observer  of  the  nineteenth  century,  compared 
with  the  immense  disparity  in  the  amount  of  positive  knowledge  possessed  by  the  student  of 
Physics  in  Socrates'  time  and  in  our  own. 

These  considerations  we  think  sufficiently  explain  the  differences  which 
exist  between  the  inductions  of  science  and  those  of  common  life  and 


§480.  INDUCTIVE    REASONING    OR    INDUCTION.  481 

establish  the  truth  that  the  process  is  substantially  the  same  in  each.  The 
differences  are  to  be  accounted  for  by  the  difference  in  the  subject-matter, 
and  not  at  all  by  any  difference  in  the  process.  The  identity  of  the  pro- 
cess is  confirmed  by  the  fact  that  common  knowledge  easily  prepares  the 
way  for  knowledge  by  science,  and  that  what  would  be  and  often  is  com- 
mon sense,  becomes  scientific  sagacity  when  it  is  directed  to  and  prepared 
for  the  study  and  interpretation  of  higher  objects  and  relations. 

§  480.    Induction  in  both  is  a  process  which  combines  an  ac- 

The  problem  of     ' 

induction    re-    curate  and  sharp  observation  of  properties  and  a  sagacious  in- 

mains  unsolved.  „.     _          ,         .     ,. 

terpretation  of  what  they  indicate.  But  precisely  at  this  point 
there  presents  itself  the  most  interesting  and  vital  of  questions,  '  On  what 
ground  or  by  what  evidence  do  wre  proceed  from  the  known  to  the  un- 
known ?  '  We  can  safely  reply,  it  is  not  upon  the  ground  of  simple  ex- 
perience. Because  all  the  rabbits  which  we  have  seen  have  been  gray 
we  do  not  for  this  reason  believe  that  all  rabbits  are  of  this  color.  It  is 
not  simply  from  the  constant  conjunction  in  our  experience  of  the  attributes 
or  properties,  that  we  proceed  to  the  belief  in  their  universal  and  necessary 
connection  in  the  constitution  of  nature.  It  is  true  that  for  a  long  time 
it  was  believed  that  all  swans  are  white,  for  the  reason  that  no  swan  of 
any  other  color  had  been  observed  or  heard  of. 

"  Mankind  were  wrong,"  says  J.  S.  Mill,  "in  concluding  that  all  swans  are  white  :  are  we  also  wrong 
when  we  conclude  that  all  men's  heads  grow  above  their  shoulders  and  never  below,  in  epite  of  the  conflict- 
ing testimony  of  the  naturalist  Pliny  ?  "We  have  no  doubt  what  is  the  correct  answer  to  this  question. 
But  why  are  not  men  wrong  in  rejecting  such  a  story,  and  in  believing  with  assured  confidence,  that  wherever 
men  exist,  their  heads  are  not  beneath  their  shoulders  1  "Why  is  a  single  instance,  in  some  cases,  sufficient 
for  a  complete  induction,  while  in  others  myriads  of  concurring  instances,  without  a  single  exception  known 
or  presumed,  go  such  a  very  little  way  towards  establishing  an  universal  proposition?  "Whoever  can 
answer  this  question  knows  more  of  the  philosophy  of  logic  than  the  wisest  of  the  ancients,  and  has  solved 
the  great  problem  of  induction."  Logic,  B.  iii.  c.  3. 

If  we  seek  to  answer  this  question,  we  say  it  is  more  credible  or  reasonable  to  believe  that 
swans  should  vary  in  color  than  that  men  should  vary  so  greatly  in  form.  But  why  is  it  more 
credible  ?  Some  would  deem  it  sufficient  to  reply  that  in  most  of  the  species  of  animals,, 
individuals  who  are  alike  in  every  other  respect  differ  in  color,  in  other  words,  that  it  is  the 
generally  observed  law  that  color  is  very  variable,  while  the  general  outline  or  type  of  form  ia 
uniformly  observed  in  every  species,  or  at  least  has  never  admitted  so  monstrous  a  deviation, 
as  would  be  implied  in  having  the  head  beneath  the  shoulders.  This  would  be  Mill's  answer 
to  his  own  question,  for  in  the  last  analysis  or  the  ultimate  solution,  he  makes  extended 
observations  and  broad  generalizations  from  observed  facts  to  be  the  grounds  of  all  Induction ; 
nay,  he  makes  the  belief  in  causation  itself,  in  the  uniformities  of  nature,  and  in  the  necessary 
truth  of  mathematical  axioms  to  rest  upon  uniform  experience.  But  this  does  not  relieve  the 
difficulty.  It  in  no  way  explains  why  we  believe  the  unknown  will  follow  the  uniformly 
known — why  facts  which  have  been  generalized  from  the  past  must  necessarily  hold  good  in 
the  future.  In  this  particular  instance,  the  solution  obviously  rests  upon  some  other  ground 
than  that  of  mere  observation.  We  assert  with  confidence,  that  it  is -not  likely  that  a 
species  of  men  should  be  so  monstrously  constructed.  We  cannot  admit  the  supposition  for  a 
moment.  The  decisive  reason  is,  that  men  so  formed  could  not  perform  the  functions  of  men 
with  any  convenience  or  success ;  that  such  a  form  would  offend  both  the  eye  and  the  mind, 
and  would  be  entirely  incompatible  with  the  ideal  of  beauty  and  convenience  to  which  we 
assume  tha*  nature  would  certainly  conform. 
31 


482  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §483. 

8  481.    Considerations  of  convenience  and  of  adaptation*  ard 

Certain  relations  ..  ..  -,.. 

&  priori  must  be  even  of  oeouty  and  grace,  then,  go  lar  toward  deciding  the 
question.  They  give  that  weight  and  force  to  those  "  single 
instances  which  in  some  cases  are  sufficient  for  a  complete  induction,"  and 
detract  all  force  from  "  the  myriads  of  concurring  instances  "  in  other  di- 
rections. It  must  be  on  the  ground  of  such  relations  assumed  d  priori  to 
be  true  of  the  whole  universe  of  being  and  to  hold  good  of  its  properties, 
powers,  and  laws,  that  we  proceed  in  all  our  judgments  of  induction. 
These  direct  the  mind  in  interpreting  her  indications.  These  prompt  to 
the  questions  which  we  ask  of  nature  in  our  experiments.  These  suggest 
the  hypotheses  by  which  we  account  for  phenomena.  These  confirm  all 
the  theories  which  we  finally  accept  as  true. 

8  482.    It  will  be  in  place  next  to  consider,  what  are  some 

Natural    to   ask         _ 

what  truths  are  of  the  truths  or  affirmations  which  the  mind  assumes  in  all 
its  inductions,  and  by  which  it  regulates  its  processes  of 
inquiry  into  the  properties  and  laws  of  the  physical  universe  ?  We  call 
these  in  the  present  stage  of  our  discussion  assumptions.  We  do  not  imply 
by  the  use  of  this  term  that  they  are  not  valid  and  true,  but  that  we  must 
believe  in  their  reality  and  binding  force  in  order  to  believe  in  what  they 
imply.  They  are  styled  assumptions  to  show  that  they  are  logically 
necessary  to  the  process  when  analyzed  into  its  elements.  We  need  not  hero 
inquire  whether  they  are  all  ultimate  and  original  to  the  mind.  It  may 
be  that  some  of  them  may  be  resolved  into  others,  or  may  perhaps  be 
shown  to  be  the  results  of  a  process  akin  to  induction.  It  is  enough  for 
our  purpose  to  ascertain  what  are  some  of  the  conceptions  and  relations 
which  are  d  priori  to  the  ordinary  processes  of  inductive  inquiry.  Some 
of  them  are  as  follows  : 

8  483.    (1.)    All  the  obiects  with  which  the  mind  concerns 

Relation  of  sub-     !         ,-...,  , 

stance  and  attri-  itself  in  its  inductions,  are  known  as  substances  ana  attributes. 
It  is  with  the  properties  or  attributes  of  matter  and  mind  as 
exhibited  through  phenomena  that  these  inquiries  are  exclusively  occu- 
pied, whether  they  are  known  as  qualities,  powers,  or  relations.  Beings 
are  known  to  the  philosopher  by  their  attributes  or  relations.  It  is  by 
these,  that  they  are  distinguished,  classified,  and  named.  It  is  the  first 
effort  of  the  mind  to  know  the  attributes  which  are  essential  to  every  ex- 
isting thing  or  agent. 

When  any  new  substances,  agents,  or  elements  are  discovered,  as  oxygen,  hydrogen,  a)u~ 
minium^  platinum,  etc.,  they  are  known  to  be  new  by  certain  special  properties.  In  induction 
proper,  viewed  as  the  interpretation  of  indications,  the  indicators  or  indicia  are  always  properties 
or  relations  observed  ;  that  indicated,  or  the  indicata  are  properties  inferred  or  believed.  The 
form  or  the  color  of  a  fruit  is  the  indicator :  its  taste,  its  nutritious  or  medicinal  propertiei 
ere  indicated. 


§485.  INDUCTIVE   REASONING   OR   INDUCTION.  48? 

§  484.  (2.)  Induction  assumes  and  implies  the  reality  of  the 
wtion.oni  causative  energy,  as  necessary  to  explain  the  origination 

of  every  begun  existence,  and  of  all  occurring  phenomena. 
Whether  it  investigates  the  powers  of  nature  or  the  laws  of  nature,  it  pro- 
ceeds upon  this  as  a  necessary  assumption.  A  power  in  any  being  or  agent 
is  its  capacity  to  produce  an  effect  under  appropriate  conditions  and  accord 
ing  to  definite  laws.  The  power  of  heat  to  expand  metals,  of  a  burning 
body  to  explode  gunpowder,  of  oxygen  to  corrode  metals,  of  the  soul  to 
know  objects  knowable,  and  to  care  for  objects  desirable ;  all  express  and 
suppose  one  common  relation,  viz.,  the  relation  of  an  energy  that  is  causa- 
tive of  effects. 

That  this  relation  is  real,  is  assumed  and  implied  in  all  our  investigations  into  the  unknown. 
This  is  true,  if  our  inquiries  respect  the  ascertainment  of  the  unknown  originator  of  a  known 
effect,  and  result  in  the  discovery  of  such  elements  as  oxygen  or  hydrogen,  or  of  such  metals 
as  potassium  and  aluminium,  or  of  such  agents  as  gravitation  and  electricity,  or  if  we  are  still 
on  the  quest,  and  the  cause  or  power  sought  for  is  not  yet  evolved.  The  same  is  true  if  our 
inquiries  are  directed  to  the  determination  of  the  precise  conditions  under  which  an  ascer- 
tained cause  produces  a  given  effect,  or  the  more  definite  statement  of  the  relations  — 
mathematical  or  otherwise — under  which  these  conditions  vary  with  a  varying  effect,  as  in 
the  determination  of  the  laws  of  gravitation,  of  chemical  affinity,  or  of  mental  perception, 
association,  desire,  and  volition. 

The  reality  of  §  485*  (3<)  Time  and  Space,  with  the  relations  which  they 
amf  ffedirSprS  no^  to  exten(led  objects  and  succeeding  events,  are  also 
tions-  assumed  in  induction.  So  also  is  the  possibility  of  the  mathe- 

matical constructions  which  are  conditioned  by  Time  and  Space ;  in  other 
words,  the  reality  and  nature  of  geometrical  and  arithmetical  quantities, 
their  relations  to  one  another  and  their  varied  applications  to  concrete  ob- 
jects and  phenomena.  These  are  not  only  assumed,  they  are  put  in  the 
fore-front  of  the  whole  scheme  of  modern  inductive  philosophy.  The  pro- 
cesses of  mathematical  investigation  are  made  the  models  for  all  scientific 
investigation.  The  results  are  the  instruments  of  measuring  all  physical 
forces  and  of  formulating  all  physical  laws. 

Gravitation  was  scarcely  determined  to  be  a  force,  till  its  mathematical  relations  were 
expressed  in  the  law  that  it  is  a  force  varying  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance.  The 
laws  of  falling  or  projected  bodies  are  expressed  by  means  of  the  geometric  curves  in  which 
they  move,  and  by  the  numbers  which  describe  their  velocity.  The  pressure  and  flow  of 
fluids  are  reduced  to  mathematical  expressions.  Chemical  affinity  is  comprehended  under  the 
wide-reaching  principle  that  different  elements  unite  in  definite  numerical  proportions,  which 
has  furnished  the  foundation  for  the  modern  chemical  symbolization.  The  whole  theory  of 
astronomy  is  a  combination  of  mechanics  and  applied  geometry.  Modern  researches  respect- 
ing light,  electricity,  and  heat,  have  dared  to  propound  the  theory  that  all  these  are  different 
modes  of  motion,  the  rates  of  whose  vibrations  determine  these  subtle  and  marvellously  potent 
phenomena.  They  have  at  least  demonstrated  that  the  varying  phenomena  of  these  so-called 
forces  or  agents  are  attended  by  motions  that  can  be  made  the  test  of  their  presence  and  th« 
oieaflure  of  their  intensity. 

Indeed  «o  extensively  have  mathematical  relations  been  applied  in  modem  induction,  thai 


484  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  486 

it  has  been  gravely  urged  on  the  one  hand  that  spiritual  phenomena  atid  forces  can  in  no  wal 
come  under  the  inquiries  of  science,  because,  forsooth,  they  cannot  be  subjected  to  mathe- 
matical relations,  or,  on  the  other,  that  they  can  and  must  be  subjected  to  these  relations  in 
order  that  any  science  of  spirit  may  exist:  in  other  words,  that  Inductive  Science,  or 
any  kind  of  science  of  nature  is  possible  so  far  only  as  the  phenomena  of  nature  can  be 
brought  under  mathematical  relations,  and  the  laws  of  nature  can  be  expressed  in  mathe- 
matical formulae. 

8  486.  (4.)  Induction  assumes  that  properties  and  laws  which 

That  some  pro-     '         ,  ,. 

perties  indicate  are  known,  indicate  and  signify  other  powers  and  laws  ;  that  in 
these  indications  nature  is  honest  and  open  in  her  dealings 
with  man  ;  in  other  words,  that  she  is  consistent  with  herself,  or  uniform  in 
her  methods  of  revealing  or  suggesting  what  man  is  prompted  to  interpret 
or  explain.  For  example,  we  judge  that  a  certain  form  or  appearance  in 
a  fruit  indicates  a  certain  flavor  ;  that  a  particular  aspect  of  stem  and 
branches  signifies  a  habit  of  leaf  and  fruit  ;  that  a  given  expression  of 
countenance  betokens  a  peculiar  disposition  or  temper  in  man  or  beast  ; 
that  striking  similarities  of  attributes  in  metals  indicate  a  similarity  in  their 
being  oxydized  ;  that  obvious  and  pervading  similarities  in  phenomena 
prove  that  electricity  in  the  earth  is  the  same  agent  as  the  cause  of  light- 
ning in  the  heavens  ;  that  the  same  power  which  is  pervasive  enough  to  af- 
fect bodies  near  the  earth,  is  probably  or  at  least  possibly  —  in  part  or  solely 
—  the  power  which  holds  the  moon  in  its  changing  path  around  the  earth. 

It  is  plainly  supposable  that  these  indications  were  not  at  all  worthy  to  be  trusted  ;  that 
the  same  appearance  which  in  one  fruit  indicates  the  bitter,  in  another  indicates  the  sweet  ; 
that  the  expression  and  tones  which  in  one  man  indicate  wrath,  in  another  manifest  love.  In 
like  manner  we  might  suppose  that  each  class  of  objects,  whether  material  or  spiritual,  ap- 
propriated certain  signs  which  it  shared  with  no  other,  so  that  the  signs  of  oxygenation,  or 
electric  agency,  in  one  species  or  sort,  though  uniformly  observed  within  its  own  particular 
sphere,  were  not  shared  by  any  other.  In  the  first  case,  we  could  not  interpret  nature  at  all, 
for  every  interpretation  of  the  unknown  by  the  known  would  be  capricious,  and  we  could 
not  judge  of  a  single  individual  by  another.  In  the  second  case,  we  could  not  extend  our 
judgments,  though  valid  in  one  class,  to  any  other. 


The  uniformity  ^  ^s  ^mP^e^  m  tne  honesty  or,  which  is  equivalent,  in  the 
Sidles  o?Wna-  significance  or  interpretability  of  nature  that  she  is  also  uni- 
tore.  form,  or  self-consistent  with  herself  from  time  to  time  ;  or  in 

other  words,  that  her  laws  and  methods  are  permanent. 

The  same  indications  which  she  offers  to-day  she  will  use  and  follow  to-morrow.  The  same 
laws  which  she  reveals  as  established  at  one  time  she  will  conform  to  to-morrow,  so  long  aa 
the  present  system  remains,  or  the  reasons  for  sustaining  it  hold  good.  In  other  words,  in- 
duction  requires  that  we  assume  that  nature  will  be  constant  and  uniform  in  her  agencies, 
operations,  and  laws  ;  and  in  her  methods  of  making  these  known  to  the  mind  of  the  inquirer 
into  her  secrets. 

It  might  here  be  asked.     Why  do  we  believe  this  to  be  true? 
ofefuc]i    Is  this  assumption  groundless  and  ultimate,  or  is  it  founded 


uniformity.  *      r\  •    -t. 

upon   some  reason  ?     One  reason  might  occur  to   us,  that 


§  487.  INDUCTIVE   REASONING   OR  INDUCTION.  485 

otherwise  we  could  not  know  or  interpret  nature  at  all.  If  nature  were 
not  thus  honest  and  uniform,  the  human  mind  could  have  no  knowledge 
except  of  individual  things,  or  the  knowledge  acquired  to-day  could  not 
be  relied  on  for  to-morrow,  as  in  the  meanwhile  the  operations  and  indi- 
cations of  nature  might  both  be  changed. 

But  it  might  still  be  replied,  What  necessity  is  there  that  we  know  and  generalize  ?  or 
more  broadly,  By  what  right  do  we  presume  that  the  objective  universe  is  so  constructed  that 
the  human  mind  may  know  it?  We  say,  'If  it  were  not  so,  it  would  not  be  adapted  to  the 
mind.  The  mind  would  feel  impulses  and  use  activities  which  would  find  no  corresponding 
objects.  It  would  be  impelled  to  modes  of  action  in  generalizing,  interpreting,  in  explaining 
and  forecasting,  to  which  there  would  be  no  corresponding  realities.  It  would  find  itself  per- 
petually at  fault,  in  perpetual  disappointment  and  bewilderment.  This  is  not  supposable,  such 
a  constant  failure  of  adaptation  between  the  objective  in  nature  and  the  subjective  in  the  soul* 
If  this  answer  is  appropriate  or  valid,  it  suggests  another  assumption,  viz. : 

§  487.  (5.)  Nature  adapts  objects  and  powers  to  certain  ends. 
Juhies  toSSS?  In  other  words,  physical  forces  are  regulated  and  controlled 

by  design.  The  application  already  made  shows .  that  this 
principle  is  assumed.  It  will  be  still  more  clearly  manifest  from  the  fol- 
lowing examples.  When  Copernicus  proposed  to  himself  to  try  whether, 
on  the  supposition  of  the  earth's  motion,  it  was  possible  to  find  a  better  ex- 
planation of  the  revolutions  of  the  celestial  orbs  than  those  currently 
received  from  the  ancients,  we  ask  what  he  would  conceive  to  be  a  better 
explanation,  and  find  an  answer  to  our  own  question,  in  the  reasons  which  led 
him  to  prefer  his  own.  These  reasons  were,  that  his  theory  secured  greater 
simplicity  and  symmetry  to  the  mechanism  of  the  heavens,  and  explained 
the  apparent  positions  and  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies  by  a  neater,  a 
more  easily  conceived,  a  more  symmetrical  construction,  than  the  older 
theory  furnished.  But  why  is  a  neater  and  more  symmetrical  theory  to 
be  preferred  ?  Because  it  is  better  adapted  to  satisfy  the  mind  of  man, — 
because  this  mind  thus  reflects,  were  I  to  provide  for  the  motions  and 
appearances  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  with  given  materials,  viz.,  force,  mo- 
tion, etc.,  I  should  hold  and  move  these  bodies  by  the  simplest  possible 
arrangement  of  motions,  and  the  most  economical  disposition  of  forces. 

Newton,  reflecting  on  the  force  of  gravity,  inquires  within  himself,  '  Why  may  not  the 
force  which  extends  beyond  the  tops  of  the  highest  mountains  also  extend  as  far  as  the 
moon,  and  why  may  she  not  be  retained  in  her  orbit  thereby  ? '  His  own  question  implied 
the  answer:  'if  this  single  force,  known  to  exist,  would  explain  the  movements  of  the  solar 
system,  it  is  more  rational  to  believe  that  this  is  the  actual  force  than  to  adopt  any  other 
explanation.'  This  involves  the  assumption  of  a  wise  adaptation  to  the  designed  effects  of  'he 
force  or  forces  conceived  to  be  at  command.  It  is  by  a  reference  to  the  same  assumption 
that  we  explain  the  general  laws  of  philosophizing  which  Newton  has  laid  down.  The  rule 
;hat  real  and  sufficient  causes  of  phenomena  are  to  be  taken  to  explain  phenomena,  whether  it 
js  or  is  not  interpreted  as  coming  under  the  more  general  law  of  parsimony,  is  only  an  enun- 
siatioii  of  the  truth  that  if  an  element,  or  force,  already  known  to  exist,  can  be  employed  to 
evolve,  produce,  or  accomplish  an  effect,  no  new  force  will  be  provided  or  is  to  be  supposed 


486  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

If  we  ask  upon  what  this  assumption  rests,  we  reply,  that  any  other  arrangement  would  b* 
bad  economy — an  unwise  adaptation  of  means  to  ends. 

Thus  underlying  the  entire  structure  of  the  inductive  method 
aXptationf8  °f  we  find  the  assumption  of  a  twofold  adaptation  in  nature, 
first,  of  the  several  parts  or  forces  to  one  another,  and  second^ 
of  the  indications  of  nature  to  the  mind  that  interprets  them.  But  if  we 
assume  that  nature  thus  adapts  her  forces  to  ends  and  also  that  the  human 
mind  is  competent  to  discern  these  ends  and  to  interpret  nature  by  her 
skill  and  success  in  wisely  accomplishing  them,  we  must  assume — 

simiiarit  of  the    §  488'   (6')  ^at  t^ie  numan  intellect  in  induction,  judges  the 
human  and  di-    structure  and  adaptations  of  nature  by  referring  to  what  it 

vine  intellect.  .  _     .  J 

would  itself  consider  to  be  rational  and  wise.  In  other 
words,  induction  assumes  that  the  rational  methods  of  the  divine  and  hit- 
man intellect  are  similar,  and  that  the  human  intellect  is  therefore  capable 
of  judging  of  the  principles  and  aims  by  which  the  universe  was  con- 
structed and  its  laws  can  be  known.  More  briefly  expressed,  induction  is 
only  possible  on  the  assumption  that  the  intellect  of  man  is  a  reflex  of  the 
Divine  Intellect ;  or  that  man  is  made  in  l.he  image  of  God. 

This  will  be  made  more  apparent,  if  we  consider  more  fully  the  rules  of  inductive  inquiry, 
and  the  relation  of  experiment  to  theory. 

§  489.  The  so-called  rules  or  methods  of  induction  are  three  : 
onnd^ction1168  ^e  metn0^  of  agreement,  the  method  of  difference,  and  the 

method  of  concomitant  variations.  They  are  briefly  stated 
as  follows  :  (1.)  If  in  all  cases  of  an  effect  or  phenomenon,  one  condition  is 
uniformly  present,  that  is  the  cause  or  includes  the  cause  of  such  a  phenom- 
enon or  effect.  (2.)  If,  in  any  instance  in  which  an  effect  does  occur, 
one  single  condition  is  present,  which  is  uniformly  absent  whenever  such 
effect  does  not  occur,  this  constantly  present  or  absent  condition  is 
presumed  to  be  its  cause.  (3.)  If,  whenever  an  effect  or  phenomenon  is 
marked  with  peculiar  energy,  any  condition  varies  with  proportional 
intensity,  this  varying  condition  is  the  cause  of  such  an  effect. 

Properly  conceived,  these  are  rules  for  testing  or  proving 
forces aerime!iT  inductions,  or  rules  for  experiment:  they  cast  no  light  upon 

that  which  is  most  essential  in  the  inductive  process.  An 
experiment  is  a  nice  analysis  or  observation,  made  for  an  express  design. 
Analysis,  i.  e.,  discriminating  attention,  is  the  condition  of  all  observation 
of  qualities  and  causes.  It  begins  with  sensible  perception,  and  without 
it,  generalization  and  classification  are  impossible.  The  analysis  used  in 
induction  differs  from  this  only  in  being  directed  to  those  properties 
and  laws  which  are  less  obvious,  and  often  guides  in  a  special  search 
tor  those  which  the  senses  cannot  directly  detect,  but  which  the  mind 
divine? 


§491.  INDUCTIVE  REASONING   OK  INDUCTION.  48* 

The  rules  for  this  search  are  not  different  in  fact  from  those  which  the  sim 
Relation  of  these     P^er  "^uctions  of  common  sense  and  of  common  life  require  and  employ. 
rules  to  common     It  is  only  because  the  relations  upon  which  they  are  employed  are  less  obvious, 
and  the  discriminations  are  more  difficult,  that  these  rules  need  to  be  dis- 
tinctly considered  and  formally  applied,  and  that  the  formal  recognition  of 
them  by  Bacon  and  Xewton  contributed  so  largely  to  the  advance  of  modern  science. 

They  are  methods  of  experiment ;  i.  e.,  as  already  explained,  of  analysis,  with 
They  p  r  e  s  u  p-  the  desijn  of  testing  a  theory,  hypothesis,  or  suggestion.  These,  from  the 
13?  or  ^ugges"  natur>e  of  the  case,  must  go  before  the  trial.  In  the  majority  of  instances  the 
tion-  question  must  be  put  before  the  answer  is  elicited.  The  experimenter 

upon  nature  must  come  to  her  with  his  question  formed  and  the  answer 
anticipated,  before  he  applies  the  methods  of  agreement  and  difference.  Lord  Bacon  saya 
abundantly  that  it  is  the  prudent  qucestio,  or  the  wisely-suggested  question,  which  directs  the 
experiment  to  an  anticipated  result,  and  which  very  often  predicts  the  result  before  it  is 
actually  established  or  proved. 

What,  suggests  §  49°  ^  now'  ^e  question  suggests  and  guides  the  experi- 
the  hypothesis  ment,  and  if  the  anticipation  predicts  the  fulfilment,  we  ask. 

or   prudens  1  r  ' 

qusestio.  What   suggests   the   question?     What  are  the  grounds  on 

which,  or  the  methods  by  which  the  mind  forms  its  anticipations  ?  When, 
for  example,  Newton  anticipated  in  thought  the  solution  of  the  motions 
of  the  solar  system  by  gravity,  or  Davy  anticipated  that  he  could  bring 
out  from  the  brown  and  earthy  potash  the  brilliant  potassium,  what  were 
the  grounds  upon  which  and  the  rules  after  which  their  minds  proceeded  ? 
The  question  may  be  more  generally  stated :  What  are  the  conditions  of 
successful  invention  and  discovery  f 

To  this  question  many  would  reply,  '  No  answer  can  be  given.     The  power 

to  read  the  secrets  of  nature  is  a  jrift  of  nature.  To  think  of  the  pertinent 
Some  say  no  an- 

ewer  can  be  giv-     question,  to  apply  the  happy  and  decisive  experiment,  is  a  matter  of  indi- 
vidual sagacity,  with  which   one  person  is  more  richly  endowed   than  an- 
other, and  the  secret  reasons  or  processes  of  which  can  neither  be  imparted 
nor  explained.     We  know  that  it  can  be  improved  by  exercise;  that  it  can  be  formed 
and  developed  into  tact  and  skill;  but  what  are  the  methods  by  which  exercise  can  form  or 
mature  it,  is  quite  beyond  the  reach  or  power  of  analysis  to  trace  out  or  describe.'    There  ia 
some  truth  in  this  view,  though  not  to  the  full  extent  of  this  representation.     Analysis  can  at 
least  separate  and  describe  the  essential  elements  of  the  process,  and  can  so  far  describe  the 
conditions  of  successful  achievement 

8  491.  (1.)  The  first  condition  is,  that  the  attention  be  directed 

The       attention    c  x  . 

must  be  familiar  to  the  class  of  objects  and  powers  already  known,  which 

with  the  objects.  J  J 

are  to  indicate  and  suggest  the  unknown.  The  discoveries 
of  science  are  founded  upon  powers  and  relations  which  are  overlooked 
by  the  great  majority  even  of  cultivated  men.  The  sagacity  which  we 
seek  to  explain,  is  always  exercised  in  respect  to  that  subject-matter  to 
which  the  discoverer  has  given  special  attention,  and  with  the  peculiar! 
ties  of  which  he  has  become  specially  familiar.  The  chemical  discoverer 
is  a  chemist.  The  discoverer  in  physics  is  a  student  of  physics.  As  we 
have  observed  already,  Franklin  had  become  familiarly  acquainted  with 


488  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  g  493 

electricity  and  lightning  by  long-continued  attention  to  the  phenomena 
of  both  before  he  thought  of  their  identity.  It  was  not  till  Newton  had 
meditated  long  and  frequently  on  the  forces  of  the  universe,  that  he  was 
iii  a  condition  in  which  it  was  possible  for  him  to  anticipate  the  theory 
of  universal  gravitation.  Davy  must,  of  necessity,  be  familiar  with  aU 
the  chemical  facts  already  ascertained,  in  order  to  conjecture  the  unknown 
base  of  potash.  It  is  plain,  that  if  the  philosopher  is  to  interpret  indica- 
tions, he  must  first  observe  and  attend  to  them. 

It  is  almost  superfluous  to  suggest  that  men  differ  in  the  original  power  and  the  acquired 
habits  of  attentive  observation.  These  differences  are  apparent  in  respect  to  objects  of  univer 
sal  interest  and  of  common  life.  They  are  more  conspicuous  in  regard  to  the  mastery  over 
the  less  familiar  and  less  obvious  objects  with  which  science  has  to  do.  As  attention  and 
consequent  familiarity  are  or  are  not  attained,  so  is  there  present  or  absent  the  first  condition 
of  success. 

8492.   (2.)  The  obiects  must  not  only  be  attended  to,  but 

The  relations  of     °  v     '  J 

objects  must  be  also  their  relations.  Ihe  one  involves  the  other.  For  the 
purposes  of  knowledge  and  especially  of  science  relations 
are  all-important.  The  relations  most  important  to  science  are  those 
of  likeness  or  unlikeness  leading  to  classification,  the  relations  of  num- 
ber and  magnitude  which  are  the  conditions  of  mensuration,  the  rela- 
tions of  causation  and  design  which  are  employed  in  reasoning.  These 
must  be  attended  to,  closely  observed  and  familiarly  considered. 

In  respect  to  the  power  of  apprehending  relations  with  facility  and  success,  men  differ 
greatly.  In  simple  judgments  of  comparison  one  man  discerns  similar  and  dissimilar  quali- 
ties, when  another  can  discern  neither  likeness  nor  difference.  Likenesses  and  unlikenesses 
of  form  are  likewise  detected  by  the  quick  eye  of  one  man  which  can  scarcely  be  made 
apparent  to  the  slower  and  less  acute  observation  of  another.  To  whatever  causes  these 
differences  of  power  may  be  ascribed,  whether  to  a  finer  sensuous  organization,  or  a  more 
refined  and  discerning  spiritual  nature,  the  fact  cannot  be  doubted  that  they  exist.  In  dis- 
criminating causes  and  effects,  in  suggesting  designs  and  ends,  there  are  surprising  differences 
in  the  acuteness,  the  quickness,  and  the  comprehensiveness  of  the  powers  of  different  men. 
These  are,  in  part  to  be  ascribed  to  training  and  opportunities,  in  part  to  the  interest  or 
necessity  which  enforces  the  application  and  the  energetic  action  of  the  powers,  and,  in  part,  to 
original  aptitudes  and  capacities.  It  is  not  surprising  that  for  observing  those  less  obvious 
relations  with  which  science  is  concerned,  there  should  be  still  wider  differences  of  capacity, 
both  original  and  acquired,  and  that  there  should  follow  as  a  consequence  most  obvious  differ- 
ences in  different  persons  in  the  familiarity  attained  with  these  special  relations. 

Both  ob'ects  and  §493.  (3.)  The  next  condition  of  success  is  an  acquired 
b?^mSiiar"to  fam^ar^y  with  the  relations  which  exist  between  signs  and 
the  mind.  things  signified  within  any  special  sphere  of  observation  or 

scientific  inquiry.  The  florist  marks  indications  in  flowers  which  are  un- 
meaning to  other  persons,  and  learns  to  connect  them  with  what  they 
indicate.  The  cultivator  of  fruits  has  the  same  experience  with  fruits. 
The  sportsman  alone  learns  by  experience  to  understand  the  significance  of 
certain  actions  of  his  game.  The  keen  and  discerning  eye  in  every  depart 


§  494.  INDUCTIVE   KEASONrNG    OK   INDUCTION.  489 

ment  is  trained  by  what  it  is  accustoi?  ed  to,  and  gains  some  definite  im- 
pressions in  respect  to  the  methods  of  nature  in  accomplishing  herobjects, 
and  in  indicating  her  powers  and  laws.  The  devotee  of  any  special  sci- 
ence soon  gains  a  familiarity  with  the  movements  of  nature  within  his 
own  special  sphere.  He  enters,  so  to  speak,  into  her  spirit. 

The  literal  import  of  this  language  is  as  lollows:  The  physicist  and  chemist,  the  botanist 
and  geologist,  become  by  degrees  impressed  with  the  conviction  that  some  properties  are  far 
more  prevalent  than  others ;  that  they  are  very  often  present  and  manifest ;  that  certain  com 
binations  of  elements  and  agencies  are,  so  to  speak,  favorites  with  nature.  Certain  powers  are 
very  limited  in  their  application,  and  of  course  are  maniiest  in  a  small  number  of  phenomena. 
Others  show  themselves  in  a  great  variety  of  existences,  and  explain  a  vast  number  of  phe- 
nomena. We  need  only  compare  gravity  with  its  laws  as  universally  applicable  to  all  material 
things,  and  the  law  by  which  a  certain  compound  of  oxygen  and  hydrogen  becomes  explosive. 
Just  as  far  as  discovery  or  experience  proceed,  just  so  far  do  they  mark  off  certain  powers  and 
laws  as  more,  and  others  as  less  extensive.  This  is  the  simple  result  of  experience  often  re- 
peated in  respect  to  a  sufficient  variety  of  cases;  this  experience  matures  into  familiarity  with 
what  may  be  called  the  preferences,  or  favorite  methods,  according  to  which  nature  conducts 
her  processes  and  manifests  her  powers 

It  is  obvious  that  in  respect  to  the  power  of  attaining  familiarity  of  acquaintance  with  this 
class  of  relations  by  experience  or  observation,  there  is  likely  to  be  greater  variety  than 
in  respect  to  acuteness  of  observation,  energy  of  attention,  or  readiness  of  comparison.  Men 
differ  very  greatly  in  respect  to  the  insight  which  they  gain  into  relations  of  this  sort.  The 
results  are  not  of  a  nature  to  be  expressed  in  language.  There  is  no  common  vehicle  for  giving 
and  imparting  impressions  of  this  kind.  Hence  greater  original  or  acquired  power  to  observe 
such  relations,  is  esteemed  more  of  an  individual  possession.  It  is  regarded  as  a  gift,  a 
secret,  an  inspiration,  an  incommunicable  and  inexplicable  attainment. 

The  construe-  §  494«  (40  Tne  next  steP  towards  discovery  is  the  use  of 
m™t™elmpto™  ^e  constructive  imagination.  All  the  steps  previously  con- 
ed-  sidered  are  steps  or  acts  of  experience.  They  are  employed 

upon  the  facts  already  established  by  observation  or  tested  by  experiment. 
The  act  now  considered  is  an  act  of  mental  construction  or  combination.  It 
relates  to  facts  as  supposed,  or  conceived  to  be  possible  or  probable  by 
the  mind.  The  objects,  relations,  and  methods  of  nature  being  all  mastered 
by  quick  and  attentive  observation,  must  be  marshalled  by  the  memory 
and  placed  at  the  service  of  the  imagination  to  re-arrange  and  re-combine. 

Let  a  complex  substance  be  presented  for  that  analysis  in  thought  which  precedes  the  test 
of  experiment :  or  let  feome  unexplained  phenomenon  be  proposed  to  be  accounted  for.  The 
first  effort  is  to  bring  up  in  the  imagination  every  known  element  or  agent,  and  to  ask  which 
is  more  likely  to  be  the  one  which  we  require.  Or  if  none  that  are  known  will  meet  the 
exigency,  what  unknown  element  or  agent — and  acting  by  what  laws — may  be  supposed  to 
solve  the  problem. 

To  be  able  to  answer  these  questions  the  memory  must  be  quick  to  suggest  all 
The  memory  the  powers  alid  agents  that  are  known  in  all  the  relations  which  we  have  con- 
dous  a^d  ready"  sidered.  There  is  a  vast  difference  in  men  in  respect  to  the  range  and  sweep 
and  readiness  of  the  memory  when  the  memory  is  called  on  to  give  up  it* 
rreasures  ;  as  we  have  had  occasion  to  notice.  But  the  presence  or  absence  of  a  single  essen- 
tial fact  may  determine  the  question  whether  a  discovery  shall  or  shall  not  oe  made.  Th* 


490  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §494 

failure  to  recall  one  single  thought  which  might  have  been  suggested,  one  actual  combination  of 
cause  and  effect  or  sign  and  thing  signified,  one  more  or  less  extensive  and  favorite  agency 
oi1  law  of  nature,  may  withhold  from  the  judgment  the  very  material  which  is  essential  to  a 
sagacious  conjecture. 

To  a  successful  issue  it  is  not  merely,  perhaps  not  chiefly,  essential  that  the  mind  be  able 
to  judge  aright  upon  facts  and  data  presented.  It  must  have  the  capacity  to  think  of  them 
and  to  present  them  when  they  are  wanted.  Hence  the  greatest  importance  to  the  skilful 
inventor  or  the  sagacious  discoverer,  of  ready  and  comprehensive  associations,  or  what  la 
more  usually  termed  a  lively  and  productive  fancy. 

A  quick  and  Sagacity  in  discovery  may  be  as  much  dependent  upon 
reSdT  ^dn<coJ-  ^e  Power  quickly  to  recall  one's  knowledge  or  observations 
struct.  Accident.  m  t^e  pas^  as  UpOn  anv  other  endowment  or  acquired  power. 
The  man  of  ready  suggestions,  the  man  fertile  in  expedients,  the  man 
quick  in  devices,  is, — other  things  being  equal, — the  man  who  is  saga- 
cious and  skilful  in  discovery  and  experiment. 

It  is  not  enough,  however,  that  the  memory  suggests  all  that  she  has 
gathered,  unless  the  imagination  reconstructs  and  recombines  in  relations 
as  yet  untried  and  unknown.  Here  is  the  widest  room  for  individual 
activity.  The  imagination  takes  all  the  materials  at  its  command,  all  the 
powers  and  agents  which  are  known  to  exist,  with  their  laws  and  rela- 
tions, and  connects  them  with  one  another  and  with  all  known  effects  and 
phenomena  in  new  methods.  It  makes  these  combinations  for  one  sole 
end,  not  to  amuse  or  entertain,  not  to  explain  or  illustrate,  not  to  con- 
vince, instruct,  or  to  persuade,  but  simply  to  conjecture  or  devise  what 
is  best  adapted  to  meet  the  exigency. 

What  is  called  accident,  too,  combines  with  memory  at  times  to  deter- 
mine a  great  discovery  in  science,  or  a  grand  invention  in  the  arts.  The 
Marquis  of  Worcester  happens  to  see  the  rising  and  falling  of  the  cover 
of  a  teakettle,  and  forthwith  he  commences  a  course  of  speculation  in  re- 
spect to  the  laws  of  the  agent  which  furnished  the  force  ;  and  thus  sets  in 
motion  the  course  of  discovery  which  has  given  to  science  and  art 
Bteam  power  with  all  its  applications. 

Goodyear^  the  sagacious  and  persevering  investigator  into  the  properties  and  uses  of 
caoutchouc  or  India-rubber,  had  long  inquired  after  some  agent  in  nature  which  would 
remove  from  the  substance  hi  question  its  special  sensibility  to  cold  and  heat,  and  make  it  in 
effect  a  new  material.  He  discovered  this  long-desired  agent  hi  the  most  casual  way. 
**  In  one  of  those  animated  conversations  so  habitual  to  him,  in  reference  to  his  experiments, 
a  piece  of  India-rubber  combined  with  sulphur,  which  he  held  in  his  hand  as  the  text  of  all 
his  discourses,  was  by  a  violent  gesture  thrown  into  a  burning  stove  near  which  he  was  stand- 
ing. When  taken  out,  after  having  been  subjected  to  a  high  degree  of  heat,  he  saw — vihat  «>' 
may  be  safely  affirmed  would  have  escaped  the  notice  of  all  others — that  a  complete  transforma- 
tion had  taken  place,  and  that  an  entirely  new  product,  since  so  felicitously  termed  new 
metal '  was  the  consequence."  Decision  of  the  V.  S.  Commissioner  of  Patents. 

But  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  men  had  observed  the  same  phenomenon  which 
attracted  the  attention  and  excited  the  inquiries  of  the  Marquis  of  Worcester.  His  previous 
knowledge  of  science  and  his  familiar  acquaintance  with  scientific  relations  alone  enabled  hiii 


§  495.  INDUCTIVE   REASONING    OR   INDUCTION.  491 

to  turn  this  knowledge  to  a  use  of  discovery.  The  promptness  and  range  witL  which  the 
associative  faculty  avails  itself  of  such  an  incident  decide  the  question  whether  it  shall  be 
received  as  a  productive  seed  or  whether  it  shall  fall  upon  the  barren  rock  or  the  parched 
sand.  The  eye  of  Goodyear  was  quickened  by  the  watching  and  waiting  of  years  to  that 
sagacity  which  was  able  to  see  in  the  piece  of  refuse  rubber  casually  discharged  from  the  fire, 
an  answer  to  the  question  with  which  his  mind  had  so  long  been  burdened. 

The  curiosity  of  the  investigator  is  also  a  most  important 

A  lively  curios-  J  />  .,  /.        .       -, 

ity  must  be  pre-  condition  of  failure  or  success,  for  it  determines  whether  or 
not  the  intellect  shall  be  effectively  applied  to  the  objects 
and  relations  which  alone  prepare  the  way  for  new  knowledge.  Perse- 
verance and  tenacity  hold  the  attention  and  the  memory  to  the  question 
which  may  have  been  started ;  they  task  the  memory  to  give  up  all 
its  past  acquisitions. 

The  peculiarities  of  character  and  of  tastes  which  fit  a  man  to  be  a  successful  investigator, 
act  through  the  intellect,  by  giving  it  energy  of  action,  and  range  of  appropriate  objects. 
The  best  stored  and  readiest  memory  can  only  furnish  the  materials  upon  which  the  mind  is  to 
act  in  judgment.  The  constructive  imagination  can  only  combine  these  materials  after  every 
conceivable  method  which  promises  aid  or  light  in  discovery.  The  most  important  step  yet 
remains,  and  that  is  the  act  of  framing  an  hypothesis,  of  constructing  a  theory,  or  of  devising 
the  question  which  may  be  most  wisely  addressed  to  nature. 

A  wise  judg-  §495.  (5.)  This  leads  us  to  the  judgments  formed  and  pref- 
fi^e^betwwni  erences  given  in  respect  to  the  various  possible  suppositions 

which  the  imagination  suggests  or  devises.  The  conditions 
previously  described  being  all  fulfilled,  the  materials  being  all  provided 
and  present,  i.  e.,  all  the  like  and  unlike  substances  and  phenomena,  and 
all  the  powers,  properties  and  laws  that  could  possibly  be  resorted  to  for 
the  analysis  or  explication  being  marshalled  by  and  before  the  imagi- 
nation ;  the  reason  then  judges  which  power  or  agency  of  all  gives  the  most 
satisfactory  solution  and  is  most  probably  true. 

But  by  what  standard  does  it  judge  ?  What  are  the 
5i7hat  Btand'  grounds  of  satisfaction  and  the  tests  of  probability  ?  The 

history  of  Induction  shows  that  these  differ  in  different 
cases.  Sometimes  the  known  existence  of  some  agent  or  law  or  its 
very  extensive  prevalence  in  the  economy  of  nature  is  the  deciding  cir- 
cumstance in  its  favor.  We  always  assume  that  nature  works  the  most 
diverse  effects  by  the  fewest  possible  elements  or  forces.  Sometimes  it  is 
what  is  loosely  termed  analogy. 

We  ask  how  close  or  near  is  the  resemblance  to  the  substance  or  event  in  hand.  But 
likeness  and  unlikeness  pertain  to  very  different  qualities  and  relations ;  sometimes  to  those 
which  affect  the  senses  immediately,  as  the  eye  and  the  touch,  sometimes  to  those  which  are 
more  remote  from  direct  apprehension,  as  to  mechanical  or  chemical  effects  or  mathematical 
relations.  Which  analogies  shall  be  decisive  in  such  cases  is  determined  by  the  importance  at- 
tached to  each  in  the  general  or  the  special  economj  of  nature,  or  by  tfhat  is  called  the  con- 
gruity  with  hei  methods  in  similar  departments. 


492  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §497. 

§  496.  In  the  application  of  these  and  of  ahnilar  criteria  the 
^G^eG^  appeals,  so  to  speak,  to  itself.  The  interpreter  oi 
nature  continually  asks  himself  thus :  Given,  certain  ele- 
ments, powers,  and  laws,  how  should  I  indicate  them  ?  or  how  should  I 
apply  them  ?  Having  followed  certain  methods  of  employing  or  in 
dicating  them  in  other  substances  and  phenomena,  how  should  I  be  most 
consistent  with  myself  in  producing  or  manifesting  other  agents  and 
events  ?  Or,  in  the  reverse  order:  Given, certain  ends,  effects,  and  phenom- 
ena, which  of  the  known  forces  at  command  would  a  rational  being  em- 
ploy for  this  or  that  object,  if  he  aimed  at  an  orderly  and  intelligible,  or  a 
beautiful  universe  ?  Or,  if  no  one  of  the  forces  known  is  adequate  to  explain 
the  effects  or  phenomena,  what  unknown  force  or  element  is  required  to 
account  for  them,  so  as  best  to  fulfil  their  objects,  and  what  must  be  the 
properties  and  what  the  laws  of  such  an  agent  ? 

The  language  so  often  used,  that  man  is  the  interpreter  of  nature,  that  nature  has  her  methods, 
her  economies,  and  her  favorite  ways,  implies  that  in  all  these  judgments,  there  is  a  belief  hi 
the  constructive  or  arranging  processes  of  another  mind.  Even  those  who  insist  that  we  may 
not  assume  that  there  are  ends  or  designs  to  be  interpreted,  constantly  employ  such  language. 
But  all  inductive  philosophers  do  assume  this  in  their  theories,  their  surmises,  and  anticipa- 
tions; in  every  prudens  qucestio  which  they  propound.  The  more  gifted  acknowledge  it 
distinctly,  and  assert  that  they  commune  with  the  spirit  of  nature,  and  that  nature  whispers 
to  them  often  of  her  secrets. 

§497.  When  Kepler  exclaims,  "  OGodf  I  think  thy  thoughts 
Kepler's  saying,  after  theef" — when  Agassiz  catches  and  repeats  the  same 

sentiment,  in  asserting  that  all  just  and  thorough  classifica- 
tion is  but  an  interpretation  of  the  thoughts  of  the  Creator,  they  simply 
express  in  definite  language  the  grand  assumption  on  which  every  saga- 
cious anticipation  or  happy  theory  is  founded,  viz.,  that  the  rational 
methods  of  the  Divine  and  human  intellect  must  be  the  same.  This,  of 
course,  includes  the  assumption,  without  which  the  principles,  maxims, 
and  methods  of  the  inductive  philosophy  have  no  meaning  and  no  foun- 
dation, viz.,  that  the  universe  of  matter  and  mind  has  its  ground  and 
explanation  in  an  intelligent  originator.  In  other  words,  Induction 
rests  upon  the  assumption,  as  it  demands  for  its  ground,  that  a  personal 
or  thinking  Deity  exists. 

It  follows  that  the  most  sucessful  theorist  and  the  most  sagacious  questioner  of 
Who  is  the  most  nature  is  the  man  who  takes  the  wisest  views  of  her  indication  by  appropriate 
pretero?nature?  signs,  of  her  economy  in  the  use  of  given  forces,  and  of  her  adaptation  to  the 

ends  of  harmony,  beauty,  and  perhaps  of  beneficence ;  and  who  has  been  most 
accustuined  to  reflect  upon  the  actual  methods  by  which  these  various  workings  of  nature  are 
accomplished  hi  varying  cases,  as  in  mechanical  effects,  chemical  combinations,  vital  forces, 
and  spiritual  endowments.  He  is  the  wisest  interpreter  of  nature,  who  through  nature  has 
entered  most  intimately  into  the  thoughts  of  God. 


£  499.  INDUCTIVE  EEASOXING  OR  INDUCTION.  49? 

§498.  (6.)  To  success  in  induction,  the  rower  of  surt 
an^  rea^/  deduction  is  also  essential.  Tlie  real  nature  and 
reach  of  any  theory  which  is  suggested  by  the  memory  o) 
constructed  by  the  imagination,  cannot  be  understood  until  the  most  im 
portant  consequences  and  applications  are  derived  from  it  in  the  form  ot 
conclusions.  The  law  of  gravitation  was  no  sooner  suggested  to  the 
imagination  of  Newton,  in  the  question,  '  why  not?  and  sanctioned  by  the 
approving  answer,  '  it  is  very  probably  true  ; '  than  the  additional  thought, 
4  if  so,  what  follows?  put  him  upon  the  act  of  deduction. 

Whatever  may  be  suggested  or  approved,  whether  it  be  the  further  extension  of  a  power 
already  known  to  exist,  or  the  existence  of  an  unknown  agent,  or  the  prevalence  or  the  more 
exact  determination  of  a  new  law,  the  deduction  of  the  consequences  that  would  follow  ia 
often  indispensable  to  enable  the  mind  to  judge  of  the  probable  truth  of  the  proposition 
which  (he  mind  entertains,  and  always  to  prepare  the  mind  to  compare  it  with  actual  fact. 
For  it  is  obvious  that  not  only  the  supposition  itself,  but  the  consequences  which  follow,  must 
both  square  with  the  reality  of  things  in  order  that  the  truth  of  the  theory  may  in  fact  be 
established. 

The  power  of  wide -reaching,  sure  and  rapid  deduction,  is  an  important  element  in  tho 
qualifications  of  the  successful  discoverer.  A  severe  training  in  the  discipline  of  the  Syllogistic 
Logic,  and  the  linked  demonstrations  of  Geometry,  as  also  in  the  subtle  calculations  of 
Numbers,  is  an  admirable  if  not  an  essential  preparation  for  success  in  discovery. 

Thee  eriment  §  ^9.  (7.)  Last  of  all  comes  the  experiment,  which  tests  the 
fm  ortarce  theory,  however  sagaciously  it  may  have  been  conjectured ; 
which  answers  the  question,  however  ingeniously  it  may 
have  been  proposed.  Though  we  must  assume  that  the  methods  of  the 
divine  and  the  human  intellect  are  the  same,  yet  we  must  concede  that 
the  elements  and  powers,  the  laws  and  methods  of  the  universe,  i.  e.,  the 
thoughts  of  the  Creator,  are,  as  yet,  known  to  the  created  intellect  only 
to  a  limited  extent. 

We  may  presume  that  those  which  are  most  obtrusive,  perhaps  that  those  which  are  the 
most  general  have  been  mastered  by  modern  science,  and  yet  must  concede  that  we  have  not 
penetrated  all  the  secrets  of  nature.  Nor  are  we  qualified  to  pronounce  d  priori  upon  what 
is  true  or  false  without  submitting  our  judgment  to  the  test  of  experiment.  Even  of  the  facts 
which  have  been  observed  and  known  we  are  not  always  sure  that  we  have  considered  all  in 
all  their  relations  at  the  moment  when  our  theory  was  constructed.  We  bring  the  judgments 
founded  upon  these  limited  data  to  the  revisal  of  the  Infinite  Mind  as  lie  is  manifested 
through  his  works.  We  question  nature  whether  our  thoughts  correspond  with  her  own. 
We  revise  and  correct  the  answers  which  we  have  devised  by  the  decided  responses  which 
our  experiments  elicit. 

Experiment,  as  has  been  already  defined,  is  another  name  for  observation 
Relation  of  ex-  employed  with  a  definite  design.  The  design  is  usually  to  try  or  test  whether 
observation.  '  our  theory  or  suggestion  is  made  good.  The  special  rules  or  methods  of 
experiment  are,  as  has  already  been  stated,  no  other  than  rules  for  a  nicer  and 
more  careful  observation  than  we  ordinarily  employ  for  the  uses  of  common  life.  They  hole 
the  same  relation  to  this  observation  which  the  employment  of  instruments  and  apparatus 
ioes  to  the  use  of  the  unaided  and  "  unarmed  "  senses.  They  inculcate  the  necessity  of  look- 


494  THE  HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §500. 

ing  narrowly  at  every  phenomenon,  of  measuring  the  force  of  every  energy,  of  discriminating 
every  shade  of  difference,  and  of  separating  carefully  every  element. 

While,  then,  on  the  one  hand,  man,  in  constructing  his  wise  question- 
ings and  in  framing  his  theories,  may  claim  a  likeness  to  God ;  in  submitting 
his  theories  to  the  task  of  experiment,  he  concedes  his  inferiority.  Indeed, 
every  act  of  experiment  is  a  confession  of  human  limitations.  Rightly 
conceived,  it  is  an  act  of  reverent  worship. 

8  500.    It  was  for  gi vine:  prominence  to  this  part  of  the  in- 

Lord      Bacon's      °  -.         T       i»  •       -i          i_  i  •    i          a 

eminent  servi-  ductive  process  that  Lord  Bacon  has  received  such  high  and 
merited  honor  as  the  expounder  of  the  inductive  method.  It 
was  because  he  insisted  upon  the  necessity  of  a  constant  and  close  observa- 
tion of  the  facts  of  nature,  and  enjoined  the  duty  of  careful  and  reiterated 
experiments,  as  well  as  prescribed  the  rules  and  methods  for  prosecuting 
the  same,  that  he  was  called  the  Father  of  Experimental  Philosophy. 

He  did  not  overlook  nor  undervalue  the  other  elements  of  the  process  which  we  have 
noticed.  He  recognized  them  more  or  less  distinctly.  There  was  no  special  need  that  they 
should  be  enforced  in  his  own  time.  The  Philosophy  of  the  Schools  paid  sufficient  homage  to 
hypothesis,  however  much  it  may  have  failed  to  understand  its  nature  or  to  analyze  its 
processes.  But  experiments  upon  nature  had  not  been  understood,  nor  had  it  entered  fully 
into  the  minds  of  men  to  inquire  what  were  the  rules  for  conducting  them  wisely  and  with 
success.  It  certainly  had  not  at  all  entered  into  their  thoughts  to  imagine  or  anticipate  how 
much  there  was  to  be  learned  by  this  method,  how  vast  a  store  of  secrets  was  concealed  for 
man's  exploration,  nor  how  the  discovery  of  one  property  and  law  was  to  prepare  the  way  for 
the  discovery  of  another. 

The  anticipation  of  what  was  in  store  for  man,  through  the  wise  applica- 
tion of  the  methods  of  experiment ;  and  the  confident  and  eloquent  assertion 
of  the  splendid  consequences  which  were  sure  to  follow,  constitute  Bacon's 
special  claim  to  distinction,  and  mark  him  pre-eminently  as  one  of  the  most 
gifted  benefactors  of  his  race,  and  one  of  the  greatest  men  of  any  period. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

SCIENTIFIC  ARRANGEMENT. — THE   SYSTEM. 

WE  have  already  considered  the  several  processes  of  objective  or  concrete  thinking,  and  the 
products  which  they  evolve.  In  other  words,  we  have  examined  the  processes  which  are 
usually  recognized  as  being  involved  in  the  formation  and  the  application  of  the  concept 
or  notion,  viz.,  analysis  ;  generalization  ;  classification  ;  judgment,  in  the  two  forms  of 
definition  and  division  ;  and  reasoning,  by  deduction  and  induction — giving  us,  as  their 
products,  the  concept ,  the  class  ;  the  proposition  ;  the  argument  ;  and  the  principle  or 
law.  It  remains  for  us  to  consider,  briefly,  the  combination  of  these  several  processes  in 
a  final  result  or  product.  The  process  may  be  called  scientific  arrangement,  and  the  prod- 


§504  SCIENTIFIC   AKRANGEMENT.  —  THE   SYSTEM.  4i)5 

uct,  the  system.  Most  of  the  principles  essential  to  this  exposition  have  been  so  fullj 
vindicated  and  illustrated  in  the  preceding  chapters,  that  we  need  only  re-state  them  in 
this  hi  brief  propositions. 

§  501.    Scientific  arrangement  or  method  may  be  defined  in 

The  simplest  ex  ,  „...,.. 

ample  of  a  sys-    general,  as  the  gathering  of  individual  objects  into  a  syn- 
thetic whole,  by  any  one  of  the  analyses  and  generalizations  of 
thought.     When  any  number  of  such  objects  are  united  into  such  a  whole, 
that  whole  may,  in  a  certain  sense,  be  called  a  system. 

Thus,  even  the  smallest  number  of  individual  objects,  when  grouped  as  one  product  by 
being  included  under  a  single  notion,  may,  in  a  certain  sense,  be  said  to  be  arranged  into 
a  system. 

This  is  not,  however,  the  usual  signification  of  the  term.  We  employ  it  in  this  sense 
simply  to  call  attention  to  the  truth,  that  the  process  of  classification  is  the  beginning  of 
systemization.  This  is  the  first  condition  or  step  of  the  synthetic  process  which  terminates  in 
the  system  proper. 

§  502.  Inasmuch  as  every  concept  has  the  two  relations  of 
piled  in  its  con-  extent  or  content  either  dormant  or  developed,  that  arrange- 

ment of  individual  objects  in  these  two  directions  which 
follows  from  the  application  to  them  of  both  the  content  and  the  extent 
of  a  notion  is  more  properly  a  system. 

When  several  notions  of  a  more  or  less  comprehensive  content,  or  a  more  or  less  widely 
applicable  extent,  are  used  to  define  and  divide  the  individual  objects  to  which  they  apply, 
these  objects  are  brought  into  a  system  ;  or  the  mind  is  said  to  take  a  systematic  view  of  their 
several  properties,  and  to  class  them  as  mutually  related  to  one  another.  Their  properties 
are  seen  to  be  more  or  less  extensively  the  same  ;  the  classes  in  which  they  are  grouped  or 
gathered  are  said  to  be  higher  or  lower,  and  the  several  classes  are  arranged  into  a  hierarchy  or 
a  subordinated  whole. 

Inasmuch,  also,  as  every  concept  results  from,  represents,  and  may  be 
expanded  into,  its  proposition  ;  the  propositions  of  content  and  extent 
express,  when  properly  arranged,  the  systematic  arrangement  or  method 
of  the  objects  to  which  these  propositions  can  be  applied. 
Notions  which  §  503'  Every  concept,  as  well  as  every  proposition  that 
indicate  penia-  respectively  defines  and  divides  and  thus  arranges  and 


or  laws.  subordinates  the  objects  to  which  each  belong,  indicates  or 

suggests  some  property  or  power  or  law  of  the  beings  to  which  they  are 
applied.  Every  name  of  a  thing  indicates  that  it  belongs  to  some  perma- 
nent class,  and  is  possessed  of  properties  that  are  fixed  in  the  designs, 
and  are  perpetuated  by  the  laws  of  nature.  The  most  important  proposi- 
tions of  definition  and  division  simply  expand  and  apply  these  permanent 
properties  and  laws. 

when  establish-  §  504r-  The  ^ess  obvious  but  more  important  of  these 
andbyappUedti(in"  properties  and  laws  are  those  which  are  discovered  by  indue- 
ioductiou.  tion^  applied  in  deduction,  and  verified  by  experiment 

and  observation  after  the  methods  and  on  the  grounds  which  have  been 


496  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  507, 

explained.  When  so  discovered,  and  applied,  and  established,  they  are 
used  to  explain  or  account  for  the  less  obvious  events  and  phenomena  in 
the  universe  of  matter  and  of  spirit.  But  the  properties,  principles,  and 
laws  which  are  thus  inferred  in  induction,  applied  by  deduction,  and 
\  erified  by  tests  of  fact, — as  they  are  respectively  established, — serve  to 
define  and  divide  the  beings  and  events  which  they  concern,  by  notions 
that  are  constituted  of  more  refined  elements,  and  that  divide  beings  intc 
more  comprehensive  and  significant  classes.  The  principles  on  which 
scientific  systems  are  founded,  are  more  profound  and  wide-reaching  than 
those  which  direct  the  classifications  of  common  life. 

8  505.    Scientific  arrangement  and  systemization,  —  the  con- 

Properties  which     '  3 

explain  and  pre-    cepts  and  terms, — are  applied  with  preeminent  proprietv  tc 

diet  phenomena.       ,*  . 

the  methodical  arrangement  which  is  founded  and  effected 
by  these  more  recondite  properties  and  more  extensive  laws.  Such  prop- 
erties and  laws  are  said  preeminently  to  explain  the  operations  of  nature, 
and  to  enable  man  to  predict  phenomena,  as  well  as  to  control  events  and 
results  by  art  or  skill. 

scientific  system  §  5°6-  Scientific  method  or  system  may  be  applied  to  a 
SSdSy  °appifcS  narrower  or  wider  range  of  beings  or  events,  and  may  be 

founded  on  generalizations  which  are  narrower  and  wider,  or 
on  inductions  which  are  more  or  less  profound.  They  may  include  a  single 
kingdom  of  organic  or  inorganic  existences,  or  may  embrace  all  material 
things.  They  may  define  and  arrange  these  according  to  the  more  obvious 
properties  and  laws  which  are  open  to  common  observation,  or  may 
employ  those  properties  which  appear  to  hasty  observation  to  be  very 
remote,  and  which  are  reached  only  by  the  most  sagacious  conjectures, 
and  the  most  skilful  experiments.  They  may  include  the  domain  of 
spirit  only,  or  extend  to  the  kingdoms  of  both  matter  and  spirit,  and 
arrange  the  two  domains  by  the  properties  and  laws  which  can  be  estab- 
lished as  common  to  the  two. 

§  507.  Systematic  arrangement  and  scientific  method  are 
stract  concepts  freely  applied  to  abstracta,  or  those  artificial  products  which 

are  the  creations  of  the  human  intellect ;  to  those  concepts 
which  law,  ethics,  theology,  politics,  and  political  economy  familiarly 
employ,  as  well  as  to  those  abstract  forms  and  rules  which  grammar,  logic, 
and  the  mathematics  prescribe.  But  a  system  of  terms,  definitions,  rules, 
and  principles,  when  so  applied,  is  always  justified  and  defined  by  a  refer- 
ence to  the  concrete  examples  and  existing  beings,  from  which  the 
concepts  are  derived,  and  by  which  the  principles  are  tested. 

The  attempt  has  been  made  to  arrange  in  systematic  order  and  by  a  scientific  method,  the 
nltimate  relations  of  knowledge  itself;  to  subject  to  the  subordination  of  higher  and  lower, 
of  dependence  and  development,  the  original  categories  and  first  principles  which  make 
knowledge  itself  to  be  possible.  Whether  such  an  application  of  the  desire  for  scientific 
method  is  possible,  we  are  not  yet  in  a  condition  to  decide.  We  must  reserve  the  answer  tc 
thia  question  for  our  later  researches. 


itinc 
er  tc 


§508.  THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED   AND   ENUMERATED.  497 


PART    FOURTH. 

INTUITION    AND    INTUITIVE    KNOWLEDGE. 
CHAPTER    I. 

THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED   AND   ENUMERATED. 

HAVING  finished,  in  Fart  III.,  the  analysis  of  the  processes  and  products  of  thought,  we 
proceed  to  consider  the  intuitions  or  original  relations  which  these  processes  assume  to 
be  real  and  make  conspicuous  in  all  their  products.  These  are  not  peculiar  to  thought, 
but  are  essential  to  all  knowledge  whatsoever.  They  are,  however,  made  obvious  and 
prominent  in  the  thought-processes.  They  are  forced  upon  our  notice  by  the  analysis 
of  these  processes,  and  thus  challenge  our  scrutiny.  Inasmuch,  too,  as  they  must  be  general- 
ized  from  all  our  intellectual  activities,  the  consideration  of  them  is  properly  deferred  till 
they  demand  our  attention.  In  conducting  these  inquiries  we  enter  upon  the  critical 
stage  of  our  investigations,  at  which  the  mind,  having  studied  its  operations  in  the  way 
of  scientific  reflection,  turns  in  upon  itself,  and  inquires  whether  the  relations  which 
its  scientific  study  assumes,  are  themselves  trustworthy  ?  whether,  in  other  words,  the 
human  intellect  may  confide  in  the  very  operations  which  it  is  impelled  to  perform  ? 
This  analysis  is  difficult,  but  full  of  excitement  to  all  those  who  are  fascinated  with  the 
inquiries  that  have  to  do  with  the  mysteries  of  their  being,  and  the  grounds  and  limitf 
of  human  knowledge. 

Our  first  inquiries  respect  the  general  relations  of  these  intuitions,  and  the  methods 
by  which  they  can  be  ascertained,  etc.,  etc.,  as  introductory  to  the  consideration  of  them 
in  detail. 

§  508.    Our  analysis  of  the  process  of  induction  has  shown 

Certain  assump-      '....,  ,  .  .,  i*  e 

tions  implied  in  us  that  it  involves  several  assumptions,  viz. :  the  reality  ot 
the  distinction  of  substance  and  attribute ;  of  the  causative 
relation ;  of  time  and  space,  and  the  relations  they  involve ;  of  unifor* 
mity  in  the  indications  and  operations  of  nature ;  and  of  the  adaptation 
of  the  beings  and  powers  of  nature  to  certain  ends.  §  §  482-488.  Upon 
these  assumptions  the  entire  process  of  induction  rests,  and  upon  theit 
validity  is  founded  its  trustworthiness. 

We  have  seen,  also,  that  all  the  other  processes  of  knowledge  involve  ot 
Also  in  the  other  imply  m0re  or  fewer  of  these  same  assumptions.  In  sense-perception,  we 
knowledge.  assume  the  reality  of  space  and  time,  and  the  relations  of  material  objects 

to  space  ;  and  in  consciousness,  some  relation  of  the  psychical  acts  and  affection* 
to  time  and  to  the  ego.  In  the  varied  forms  of  representative  or  reproduced  knowledge,  the- 
reality  of  time  is  assumed  as  the  condition  of  the  relation  of  the  representing  to  the  repre- 
sented  object;  whether  the  object  is  exactly  transcribed  or  copied  from  the  original,  o* 
whether  it  ia  varied  by  a  creative  process.  In  the  various  processes  of  thought  or  Irielli- 
32 


*9S  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §509 

pence,  these  same  assumptions  are  implied.  Without  them,  as  we  nave  seen,  generalization, 
judgment,  and  reasoning  would  be  impossible. 

The  very  conception  and  definition  of  knowledge  imply  the  same.  Knowledge 
Also  in  the  defi-  has  been  defined  as  the  apprehension  of  being  and  its  relations  (§§  48,  49). 
edgef  °  The  possibility  and  the  validity  of  the  process  suppose  the  reality  of  certain 

beings,  and  the  truth  of  certain  relations.  It  implies,  also,  that  there  are 
certain  relations  to  be  known  which  are  original,  and  the  truth  and  validity  of  which  must  be 
assumed  as  the  groundwork  or  foundation  of  all  our  knowledge.  We  may  analyze  what  ia 
complex,  in  both  being  and  its  relations,  into  what  is  simple.  What  is  less,  may  be  resolved 
into  what  is  more  general ;  but  the  relations  which  cannot  be  resolved  into  others,  must  be 
received  as  original  axioms  or  assumptions. 

§  509.    What  these  assumptions  are,  we  are  impelled  to  con- 

"We  enter   upon  .,    .          .  __.,  ^  1 

the  critical  stage  sider  and  inquire.  Inus  iar  we  nave  inquired  what  are  the 
processes  and  products  of  knowledge,  when  the  power  to 
know  is  employed  upon  its  appropriate  conditions  or  objects  in  the  form 
of  direct  and  objective  activity.  "We  are  now  to  turn  the  power  in 
upon  itself;  to  inquire  what  are  the  relations  which  it  intuitively 
discerns,  and  necessarily  assumes.  We  enter  upon  the  last  and  highest 
stage  of  our  inquiries — which  is  properly  called  the  critical  or  the  specula- 
tive. We  proceed  to  examine  the  power  of  knowledge,  not  for  the 
purpose  of  ascertaining  what  it  can  perform  or  produce,  but  what  its 
processes  involve  and  assume,  and  to  ask  whether  what  are  assumed  may  be 
trusted  in  themselves  and  in  their  applications. 

This  critical  analysis  of  the  power  of  knowledge  is  the  last  and 
highest  form  of  the  mind's  activity,  because  it  supposes  the  complete 
development  and  discipline  of  all  the  other  powers.  The  mind  must  be 
trained  to  analyze  every  thing  besides,  before  it  can  successfully  analyze 
the  processes  and  products  of  its  own  power  to  know.  It  must  be  able 
to  explain  every  thing  besides,  before  it  can  analyze  and  explain  its  own 
acts  and  products. 

The  special  objects  of  the  mind's  knowledge  in  these  critical  or 
speculative  inquiries,  are  the  relations  which  the  mind  must  assume  in  all 
its  knowing.  Their  special  and  distinguishing  features  when  thus  general- 
ized, are  their  necessity,  originality,  and  universal  applicability  to  all  its 
knowing,  (§  529.) 

We  turn  the  Jt  ig  sometimes  said  that,  in  these  inquiries,  we  turn  the  power  of  thought 
power  of  thought  back  upon  itself,  to  ascertain  and  prove  its  assumptions  and  its  laws.  This 
the  inteUectua'.  is  not  technically  true,  if,  by  the  power  of  thought,  we  mean  only  that  higher 
processes.  capacity  of  the  intellect  which  forms  and  applies  general  notions  or  con- 

cepts. More  exactly  we  say,  we  turn  the  power  of  thought  to  the  analysis  and  explanation 
of  the  power  of  knowledge  in  all  its  modes  of  action,  by  showing  the  ultimate  or  the  most 
generic  objects  which  it  apprehends,  and  the  ultimate  relations  or  principles  which  it  assumes 
as  original  and  true.  Of  these  it  gives  as  complete  a  philosophical  explanation  as  is  possible. 
It  inquires  in  respect  to  the  conditions  of  their  production ;  the  order  of  their  development 
and  growth  their  relation  to  the  concrete  processes  and  products  of  the  intellect,  and,  indeed, 


§  511.  THE    INTUITIONS    DEFINED   AND   ENUMEEATED.  49  £ 

of  the  tfhole  sou.' ;  their  mutual  relation  to  one  another ;  and,  last  of  all,  their  trustworthiness 
as  grounds  of  certainty  and  as  criteria  of  truth. 

Hence  the  critical  examination  of  the  power  to  know,  involves  a  critical  examination  of 
the  grounds  and  the  trustworthiness  of  all  knowledge  and  belief.  It  shows  us  that  the  rela- 
tions or  principles  which  we  receive  and  trust  as  axioms  in  one  kind  of  knowledge,  are  to  be 
trusted  in  another.  It  shows  us,  moreover,  that  we  are  bound  to  believe  and  follow  them 
wherever  they  lead  us,  because  we  cannot  know  any  thing  without  them.  It  sets  aside 
objections  that  are  derived  from  the  denial  of  these  truths  by  showing  that  they  are  not  only 
fundamental,  but  are  always  applicable.  It  disarms  skepticism  of  every  kind,  whether  it  be 
philosophical,  ethical,  or  theological,  by  showing  that  the  relations  which  the  human  mind  must 
apply  in  its  lower  knowledge,  it  cannot  refuse  to  trust  in  their  higher  applications. 

Relation  of  these  §  510.  These  inquiries  conduct  us  from  the  field  of  psychology 
LphydS^esI  toward  and  into  the  fields  of  both  logic  and  metaphysics.  It 
is  not  practically  easy  to  draw  the  lines  which  determine  the 
boundaries  of  each.  It  is  certain  that  this  analysis  is,  to  a  certain  extent, 
appropriate  to  psychology,  and  that  both  logic  and  metaphysics  are  incom- 
plete without  the  results  which  this  psychological  analysis  gives. 

Strictly  speaking,  we  should  say  that,  in  psychology  we  are  required 
to  explain  how  we  reach  and  how  we  use  these  cognitions,  while  in  logic 
and  metaphysics  we  are  concerned  with  what  they  are  in  their  definitions 
and  relations  to  one  another,  and  to  all  our  knowledge.  Inasmuch, 
however,  as  it  is  impossible  to  separate  the  analysis  of  a  process  from  an 
analysis  of  its  product,  the  psychological  will  often  encroach  upon  the 
logical  and  metaphysical  sphere. 

It  is  certain  beyond  question,  that,  at  a  certain  stage  of  the  mind's  development,  these 
relations,  in  point  of  fact,  become  distinctly  developed  as  separate  products  and  objects  of 
knowledge.  Their  origin  must  be  accounted  for.  Their  nature  needs  to  be  analyzed  and 
explained.  Their  relation  to  the  other  processes  and  results  which  the  mind  performs  and 
attains,  must  necessarily  be  unfolded,  in  order  to  attain  a  complete  explanation  of  the  powers, 
functions,  and  products  of  the  intellect. 

We  do  not  learn    §  511.    These  ultimate  facts  and  relations  are  not  gained  by 

the  intuitions  by,  *'.•""•»•»••»"*»••«• 

the       ordinary    the  processes  that  distinguish  the  faculties  of  the  intellect 

powers  and  pro-          .  .    .  .          „  .  -i          •»        m, 

ce^es.  which  we  have  thus  far  considered.     Their  truth  and  validity 

are  not  apprehended  by,  but  they  are  involved  in  these  processes.  They 
are  not  perceived  by  sense-perception,  nor  felt  by  consciousness  ;  they 
are  neither  reproduced  in  memory,  nor  represented  or  created  by  the 
phantasy ;  they  are  not  generalized  by  the  power  to  classify  and  name ; 
they  are  neither  proved  by  deduction,  nor  inferred  by  induction.  They  are 
developed  and  brought  to  view  in  connection  with  these  processes,  and  are 
assumed  in  them  all. 

That  they  have   been  referred   to  a   special   and  separate 

They  have  been      „        ,  /,,..  „  ..,,. 

referred    to    a    faculty  or  laculties   is  a  fact   notorious  in   the  history  of 

separate  faculty.  ,     ,  ..       ,  .,  ,  __,,  .  _    .    , 

psychology  and  philosophy.     This  separate  facalty  or  source 
of  tliis  peculiar  knowledge  has  been  designated  by  various  appellations 


500  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  5  1  2 

as  the  reason,  common  sense,  judgment,  intuition,  faith,  the  intelligence,  tht 
regulative  faculty,  the  noetic  faculty,  6  NoOs  as  contrasted  with  rj  Atavoio, 
die  Vernunft  as  contrasted  with  der  Verstand.  But  while  these  truths 
have  been  so  generally  referred  to  a  faculty  under  these  various  names,  it 
has  been  as  generally  conceded  that  the  word  faculty  is  not  used  in  its 
usual  signification.  Thus  Hamilton  observes  (Met.  Lee.,  38),  the  term 
"  faculty  is  employed,  not  to  denote  the  proximate  cause  of  any  definite 
energy,  but  the  power  the  mind  has  of  being  the  native  source  of  certain 
necessary  or  d  priori  cognitions." 

§  512.    The  cognitions  or  beliefs  themselves  "  have  obtained 

The  appellations  .  ...  ..       ,,  _,          ,  ,  ..  .  .. 

by  which  they    vanous  appellations."     "  They  have  been  denominated  KOIVCU 

are  known.  ,  ^     „  *  Y  *  * 

,    KOLVO.L    cwotat,    (pixn/cai   ewoiat,    Trpcurat    ewotat, 


naturce  judicia,  judicia  communibus  hominum  sensibus  infixa, 
notiones  or  notitioe  connatce  or  innatce,  semina  scientice,  semina  omnium 
cognitionum,  semina  ceternitatis,  zopyra  (living  sparks),  prcecognita 
necessaria,  anticipationes  ;  first  principles,  common  anticipations,  princi- 
ples of  common  sense,  self-evident  or  intuitive  truths,  primitive  notions, 
native  notions,  innate  cognitions,  natural  knowledges  (cognitions),  funda- 
mental reasons,  metaphysical  or  transcendental  truths,  ultimate  or  ele- 
mental laws  of  thought,  primary  or  fundamental  laws  of  human  belief  or 
primary  laws  of  human  reason,  pure  or  transcendental  or  d  priori  cogni- 
tions, categories  of  thought,  natural  beliefs,  rational  instincts,  etc.,  etc." 
(Ham.,  Met.  Lee.,  38). 

Each  one  of  these  appellations  could  be  easily  explained,  either  by  a  reference  to  the 
nomenclature  of  some  received  philosophy,  or  by  the  obvious  import  of  the  words  when 
applied  to  this  subject-matter.  Some  additional  names  have  been  adopted  by  modern 
philosophers,  in  consistency  with  their  general  theory  of  knowledge. 

Philosophers  are  generally  agreed  that  there  are  certain  conceptions  or  ideas 
opinion  in  re-  that  deserve  to  be  called  elementary  or  original  conceptions,  certain  relations 
iutnitionk  '  tna*  are  Pr°Perly  designated  as  fundamental,  and  certain  propositions  that 

take  that  place  in  our  knowledge  which  is  commonly  assigned  to  first  or 
necessary  truths.  But  they  are  far  from  being  agreed  as  to  what  truths  deserve  this  preemi- 
nence. Nor  are  they  in  harmony  as  to  the  process  or  processes  by  which  they  are  acquired 
or  revealed,  nor  as  to  the  conditions  or  occasions  on  which  they  are  suggested  to  or  dis- 
covered by  the  mind.  Least  of  all  are  they  possessed  of  clearly-developed  opinions  as  to  the 
relation  which  they  hold  to  the  knowledge  which  is  acquired  by  experience,  or  is  demonstrated 
by  reasoning. 

The  language  of  many  writers  in  respect  to  these  principles  is  often  eminent- 
Si^"  and  dfig"  lv  va^e  and  figurative,  when  lt  ought  to  be  clear  and  precise.  Often  the 
urat^ve  Ian-  imagination  is  resorted  to  for  some  bold  and  striking  image,  which  vividly 

presents  a  sensuous  picture  rather  than  satisfies  the  intellect  by  a  rational 
explanation  of  the  problem.  Such  solutions  are  accepted  by  those  who  mistake  the  relief 
which  is  felt  in  passing  from  the  cold  shadows  of  attenuated  abstractions  into  the  warnc 
presence  of  a  concrete  image,  for  the  satisfaction  which  arises  from  a  finished  analysis  or 
well-rounded  synthesis  of  thought-elements  and  thought-relations.  For  these  reasons  the 
luty  is  imperative  to  attempt  to  give  as  clear  and  as  well  denned  an  exposition  of  these 


§513.  THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED    AND   ENUMERATED.  501 

truths  as  the  nature  of  the  subject-matter  will  allow.  In  doing  this,  it  is  fully  as  importan 
to  distingufeh  them  from  what  they  are  not  but  are  sometimes  vaguely  conceived  to  be,  ai 
positively  to  assert  what  they  are. 

It  will  be  noticed,  that  we  make  this  question  at  first  a  question  of  first  principles,  01 
Relation  of  first  intuitive  truths  or  beliefs,  and  not  of  categories  or  original  relations.  The  distinction 
principles  to  in-  is  purely  formal.  It  is  a  matter  of  terms  and  not  of  thoughts,  of  language  only,  but  not 
tuitions  and  Of  things.  As,  however,  the  concepts  and  relations  concerned  are  like  all  other  concepts 

and  relations  given  in  the  form  of  propositions  or  principles,  and  especially,  as  these  ia 
particular  are  almost  always  applied  in  this  form,  it  seems  more  natural  to  treat  them  as  such.  It  is  true 
in  this  as  in  all  other  cases,  that  it  is  from  or  through  a  proposition  that  the  appropriate  concept  is  de- 
rived. The  concepts  of  cause  and  pffect  and  of  causation,  those  of  means  and  adaptation  as  well  as  those 
appropriate  to  extension  and  duration,  are  first  gained  through  propositions.  In  this  we  have  another 
example  of  the  principle  that  a  concept  is  a  contracted  proposition,  and  that  the  judgment  is  the  norm  ol 
all  forms  of  knowledge. 

§  513.  I.  We  observe,  then,  that  in  calling  them  first  truths 
first  in.  the  order  or  primitive  judgments,  it  is  not  intended  that  these  truths 

or  judgments  are  acquired  first  in  the  order  of  time,  or  that 
the  mind's  assent  to  them  is  prior  to  its  other  acts  of  knowledge.  That 
they  cannot  be  acquired  or  assented  to  first  of  all,  is  evident  from  the 
unquestionable  fact  that,  by  very  many  they  are  never  acquired  at  all. 
The  majority  of  men  never  think  of  them,  much  less  do  they  accept  them. 
Even  the  majority  who  attain  to  not  a  little  culture,  do  not  reach  a  clear 
and  intelligent  conviction  that  these  propositions  are  true. 

It  was  forcibly  urged  by  Locke  that  such  propositions  as  "  whatever  is,  is  " 
Locke's  discus-  and  "  the  same  thing  cannot  be  and  not  be  at  the  same  time"  cannot  be  innate, 
pr  "po°ttionTand  for  tbe  Plain  reason  that  men  at  their  birth,  and  in  all  the  early  period  of 
»deas.  their  existence  are  entirely  incapable  of  understanding  the  meaning  of  the 

conceptions  and  terms  of  which  these  propositions  are  composed.  If  they  cannot  understand 
the  constituent  elements,  much  less  are  they  capable  of  asserting  that  one  of  them  is  true  of 
the  other.  This  argument  of  Locke  is  decisive  against  any  view  of  these  propositions,  which 
would  make  them  first,  prior,  or  primitive  in  time.  It  might  be  further  enforced  by  the 
consideration,  that  the  mass  of  men  are  incapable  of  that  analytic  abstraction  which  is 
necessary  to  detach  the  universal  from  the  individual  example  in  which  it  is  realized.  To  be 
able  intelligently  to  affirm  that,  every  thing  that  begins  to  be,  must  have  a  cause  ;  or  that  a 
thing  cannot  be  and  not  be  at  the  same  time,  the  mind  must  separate  being  or  causality  from 
individual  cases  or  instances  of  being  or  causative  action — must  be  able  to  see  in  an  individual 
thing,  whether  real  or  thought  being — a  case  of  being  in  general,  and  in  any  instance  of 
combustion  or  explosion,  the  causal  efficiency  exemplified  in  an  individual  instance.  It  is 
easy  to  see  that  a  man  might  assent  to  the  truth,  that  this  or  that  heated  substance  explodes 
a  particular  mass  of  gunpowder  without  distinguishing  the  one  as  a  cause,  and  the  other  as 
the  effect. 

Or,  if  we  concede  or  suppose  that  the  causal  attribute  or  relation  could,  by 
that  the  proposi-  analysis,  be  distinguished  from  the  individual  example  of  cause  or  effect,  an 
men8ts0shouiird0lbee  additional  «*  of  generalization  would  be  necessary  to  qualify  the  mind  to 
apprehended  so  assent  to  the  general  truth,  " EVERY  event  must  have  a  cause"  To  do  this 

the  mind  must  extend  its  vision  widely  enough  to  take  in  all  events,  real  ana 
possible,  in  all  places,  far  and  near,  through  all  time,  past,  present,  and  future,  in  order  t€ 
comprehend  the  proposition  to  which  its  assent  is  required.  But  to  such  an  exercise  of 
generalization  or  comprehensive  reflection,  few  men  voluntarily  or  involuntarily  raise  them 
selves,  and  none  at  a  very  earlv  pp<ivxJ  <*t  life. 


502  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §514. 

They  are,  in  These  may  suffice  as  reasons  for  the  fact  that  these  truths, 
faS'in  th^order  instead  of  being  the  first  to  be  consciously  possessed  and 
of  time.  assented  to,  are  the  last  which  are  reached,  and  by  only  a 

few  of  the  race  are  ever  reached  at  all.  To  reach  them,  long  courses  of 
training  are  required,  to  bring  the  intellect  into  a  capacity  for  analysis  and 
generalization,  which  may  enable  it  to  understand  and  assent  to  them.  The 
mind  must  be  exercised  to  some  extent  in  philosophical  studies  before  it 
can  comprehend  their  import  and  application. 

§  514.  H.  We  observe  that  these  truths  or  judgments  stand 
in  logical  im-  first  or  before  all  others  in  the  order  of  rational  or  logical 

importance.  Hence  they  are  called  first  principles :  principles 
or  truths  d  priori^  as  opposed  to  knowledge  d  posteriori. 

The  term  principle,  which  is  so  often  used  in  this  connection. 

Various   signifi-     .  *  ,          -, 

cations  of  the  is  variously  employed,  and  admits  01  many  senses.  It  may 
be  generally  defined  as  any  thing  with  which  the  mind 
begins  in  an  act  of  rational  or  logical  combination,  or  more  generally  still, 
as  the  constituent  of  any  product  of  synthesis.  The  word  principium, 
apxr}i  is,  literally,  a  beginning  or  starting-point.  From  this  the  transition 
is  easy  to  the  signification  of  that  with  which  we  begin  ;  in  this  case,  any 
thing  with  which  the  mind  begins  in  its  acts  of  connected  or  synthetic 
knowledge.  In  accordance  with  this  generic  signification,  it  is  used  in  the 
following  special  meanings. 

1.  Any  constituent  element  of  an  existing  tiling,  whether  it  is  material  or 
A  constituent  el-     spiritual  —  whether   it   is   a  being,   act,    or   product,    is   a  principle.      The 
principle?  °'     k    materials  which  we  put  together,  or  think  belong  together  so  as  to  constitute  any 

existing  object,  are  sometimes  called  principles.  In  a  similar  way,  the  simple 
concepts  that  make  up  any  complex  concept  or  general  notion  whatever,  are  called  principles. 

2.  Any  causal  agent  in  matter  or  spirit,  is  called  a  principle,  because  the 
cause  is  looked  upon  as  originating  and  beginning  the  effect.     Thus  we  say 
of  a  machine,  it  has  the  principle  of  motion  within  itself.     This  use  is  not 
uncommon  of  the  capacities  of  the  soul,  viewed  as  causes  of  a  function  or 

product.  Thus,  we  say,  there  is  a  principle  in  man's  nature  by  which  he  is  able  to  distinguish 
truth  from  falsehood,  or  right  from  wrong. 

3.  Every  general  proposition  which  is  admitted  or  used  as  a. premise  in  deduo 
A    premise— es-     tion,    is    also  a  principle.      However   such   propositions   are   derived,    and 
^premise?  "        howsoever   they   are  supported  by  evidence,  whether  they  are  true  or  false, 

accepted  or  disputed,  they  are  called  principles  when  used  as  premises  for 
deduction.  The  reason  is  obvious.  They  are  so  called,  because  the  mind  begins  with  them 
in  the  process  of  its  reasoning. 

Sir  "William  Hamilton  asserts,  in  his  review  of  "Whately's  Logic,  that  "  no  logician  ever  employed  the 
term  principle  as  a  synonym  for  major-premise."  "Whether  logicians  would  or  would  not  accept  this  as  a 
proper  technical  appellation  for  a  major  premise,  it  is  quite  certain  that  those  who  have  called  themselves 
philosophers  have  so  applied  the  term.  The  language  of  Bacon  is  in  strict  accordance  with  the  doctrine  ol 
Aristotle  in  the  following  passages.  "In  syllogismo  fit  reductio  propositionum  ad  principia  per  proposi- 
tiones  medias.".  De  Aug.,  lib.  v.  cap.  ii.  "  Ars  judicandi  per  syllogismum  nihil  aliud  est  quam  reductic 
propositionum  ad  principia  per  medios  tenninos."  Cap.  iv.  "  Numerus  vero  terminorum  mediorim  minui« 
tur  aut  augetur,  pro  remotione  propositionis  a  principle"  Ib.  Webl's  Intellectualism  of  Lock?  pp.  42,  43 


£515  THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED   AND   ENUMERATED.  503 

4.  All  generalizations  from  induction,  as  well  as  all  collected  observation! 
A  truth  or  law     from  experience,  are  called  principles,  for  the  reason  that  they  are  used  to 
mduc£on?d     by     explain  and  account  for  the  occurrence  of  particular  events  or  phenomena. 

The  mind  begins  with  these  in  all  its  rational  solutions.  Hence  the  powers 
of  nature  and  the  laws  of  nature,  as  well  as  observed  facts  when  generalized  and  supposed  to 
indicate  some  concealed  law,  are  freely  called  principles. 

5.  Those  general  truths  which  are  the  starting-points  of  the  reasonings  01 
The       ultimate     communications  of    any  special  science   or   art,   are   called,   with   eminent 
Mtence  orfartany    propriety,  principles;    because,  in  imparting  or  demonstrating  the  science, 

the  teacher  begins  with  these  as  facts,  or  reasons  from  them  as  premisea 
Hence  the  fundamental  maxims  or  assumptions  of  mathematics,  of  logic,  of  law,  of  ethics, 
of  politics  and  political  economy,  are  called  the  principles  of  each  of  these  sciences.  In  physics, 
also,  the  generalizations  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  concerning  motion,  etc.,  were  called  his  first 
principles  or  great  laws.  So  the  leading  truths  or  rules  that  are  laid  down  as  the  guides  of 
practice  in  any  profession  or  art,  are  called  the  principles  of  that  profession  or  art.  For  a 
similar  reason,  even  the  leading  though  not  absolutely  the  fundamental  truths  of  any  science 
— the  truths  which  are  relatively  comprehensive,  though  not  the  most  comprehensive — are 
called  principles ;  as  the  Principia  of  Newton. 

Preeminently        8  515.    6.  But  the  appellation  of  principles  is  applied  with 

concepts  and  re-  .  n     i  •  i 

intions  that  are    preeminent  propriety  to  any  one  01  those  universal  concepts 

ultimate      in.  .         -,.-*•  n   ,-t       Tjy          .   7  •      7 

knowledge.  and  relations  which  are  implied  in  any  of  me  different  Kinds 
of  knowledge.  To  know,  is  to  be  certain  of  being  or  existence  in  some 
form  or  relation.  Any  form  of  being,  or  any  relation  which  is  uniformly 
present  or  involved  in  any  of  the  distinguishable  kinds  of  original  knowl- 
edge, is  a  principle  of  knowledge.  It  must  be  assumed  or  supposed  as  a 
beginning  or  element  to  make  that  knowledge  conceivable. 

Should  we  suppose  that  every  possible  kind  or  mode  of  knowledge  were  employed  upon 
any  single  object,  all  these  original  or  first  principles  would  be  brought  into  exercise.  The 
exercise  of  the  soul's  completed  knowledge  would  involve  the  application  of  each  and  all 
these  principles. 

When  we  turn  the  power  of  knowledge  in  upon  itself  in  the  way  of  reflection — when  we 
analyze  it  into  its  elements,  and  generalize  these  elements  into  concepts,  we  discover  the 
principles  or  elements  which  enter  into  the  act  of  knowledge  itself.  As  the  nature  and 
essentials  of  the  acts  of  knowledge  appear  most  clearly  in  their  products,  we  find  them  most 
conspicuously  in  the  products  of  these  acts. 

Again :  As  it  is  by  the  power  and  the  act  of  knowledge  that  we  can  analyze  the  acts  of 
knowledge,  and  so  reach  their  essential  elements,  it  follows  that  ultimate  principles — these 
very  principles  for  which  we  seek — must  be  implied  and  employed  even  in  the  act  of  discover- 
ing  what  these  principles  are.  If  this  is  a  paradox  in  thought  and  seems  a  contradiction  in 
language,  it  is  a  paradox  which  belongs  to  the  very  nature  of  reflection,  and  is  implied  by  the 
possibility  of  such  a  power  and  its  appropriate  acts  and  results. 

Again :  The  act  of  knowledge  is  an  actual  discernment  of  something  that  is — of  being 
and  its  relations.  Whatever  the  mind  believes  or  knows  to  exist,  that  must  be  taken  as  real. 
The  relations  which  it  always  finds  realized  in  each  concrete  thing  or  act,  must  be  taken  aa 
not  only  the  principles  necessary  to  our  human  knowledge,  but  as  true  in  the  reality  of  things. 
The  reality  of  these  relations  in  the  world  of  being,  must  therefore  be  assumed  to  be  implied 
in  the  place  which  the  relations  hold  as  necessary  and  fundamental  to  all  our  knowing. 


504  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §516 

7.    If  there  are  other  objects  of  knowledge  usually  called 

The  infinite  and 

the  absolute  are    infinite  and  absolute,  which  are  necessarily  implied  m  thes« 
special  and  limited  relations,  these  preeminently  deserve  to 

be  called  principles,  as  they  are  in  rational  order  and  dependence  before, 

and  the    explanation   of,  all   other    objects   of   thought  and   knoicledye*. 

Whether  there  are  such,  must  be  decided  by  our  subsequent  inquiries,  and 

will  be  discussed  in  the  appropriate  place. 

8  516.    III.  These  remarks  explain  the  kind  of  priority  which 

The  relation  of     "    .  .  / 

intuition  to  ex-  belongs  to  these  truths,  and  the  reason  why  they  are  properly 
so  extensively  called  principles,  first  principles,  and  first 
truths.  They  lead  us  also  to  consider  more  particularly  the  relations 
which  they  hold  to  experience,  and  to  the  knowledge  which  is  gained  by 
experience.  We  have  seen,  in  our  previous  analysis,  that,  while  these 
truths  stand  first  in  the  order  of  thought,  they  are  last  to  be  reached  in  the 
order  of  time.  This  implies  that  we  are,  in  some  sense,  indebted  to 
experience  for  their  acquisition.  It  is  equally  clear  that  experience  does 
not  give  them  authority.  Both  these  truths  are  expressed  in  the  often- 
repeated  proposition,  that  our  knowledge  of  these  truths  is  occasioned  by, 
but  it  is  not  derived  from  experience.  This  is  most  happily  expressed  in  a 
sentence  quoted  by  Hamilton  from  Patricius  /  cognitio  omnis  a  mente 
primam  originem,  a  sensibus  exordium  habet  primum. 

Indeed,  the  most  sagacious  thinkers  coincide  in  the  opinion,  that  our  higher  and  A  priori 
Testimony  of  knowledge,  while  independent  of  experience  as  the  source  of  its  evidence  and  authority, 
Leibnitz,  Reid,  is  dependent  upon  experience  as  the  occasion  of  its  development.  Thus  Leibnitz,  in 
Kant  criticising  Locke  for  asserting  that  all  our  knowledge  is  derived  from  pensation  and 

reflection,  says  :  "The  senses,  although  necessary  for  all  our  actual  cognitions,  are  not, 
however,  competent  to  afford  us  all  that  our  cognitions  involve."  Reid  also  observes,  in  defence  and 
explanation  of  Locke's  real  meaning :  "  I  think  Mr.  Locke,  when  he  comes  to  speak  of  the  ideas  of  rela- 
tions does  not  say  that  they  are  ideas  of  sensation  or  reflection,  but  only  that  they  terminate  in  and  are 
concerned  about,  ideas  ot  sensation  and  reflection."  Essay,  vi.  c.  i.  The  doctrine  of  Kant  upon  this  subject 
is  uniformly  as  follows  :  "  We  must  then  first  of  all  observe,  that  although  all  judgments  of  experience  are 
empirical,  *.  e.,  have  their  ground  in  the  immediate  perceptions  of  the  senses,  yet  conversely  it  is  not  true, 
that  all  empirical  judgments  are  for  this  reason  judgments  of  experience,  but  in  addition  to  the  empirical 
element,  and  in  general  in  addition  to  that  which  is  given  to  sense-intuition,  particular  concepts  must  be 
furnisheJ,  whose  origin  is  d  priori  in  the  pure  understanding,  under  which  every  percept  must  be  subsumed 
and  so  changed  into  true  experiential  as  distinguished  from  empirical  knowledge."  Proleg.  euj.  Kunft. 
Met.  §  18. 

Cousin  also  repeats  himself  abundantly  in  the  following  strain  :  "  The  idea  of  body  ia 
given  to  us  by  the  touch  and  the  sight,  that  is,  by  the  experience  of  the  senses.  On  the 
contrary,  the  idea  of  space  is  given  to  us,  on  occasion  of  the  idea  of  body  by  the  under- 
standing, the  mind,  the  reason ;  in  fine,  by  a  faculty  other  than  sensation.  Hence  the 
formula  of  Kant :  'the  pure  rational  idea  of  space  comes  so  little  from  experience,  that  it 
is  the  condition  of  all  experience.* "  "Now  the  idea  of  space,  we  have  just  seen,  is  clearly  the  logical  con- 
dition of  all  sensible  experience.  Is  it  also  the  chronological  condition  of  experience  and  of  the  idea  oi 
body  1  I  believe  no  such  thing.';  "  Take  away  all  sensation  ;  take  away  the  sight  and  the  touch,  and  you 
have  no  longer  any  idea  of  body,  and  consequently  none  of  space."  "  Rationally,  logically,  if  you  had  not 
the  idea  of  space  you  could  not  have  the  idea  of  body  ;  but  the  converse  is  true  chronologically,  and  in  fact, 
the  idea  of  space  c<~  mes  up  along  with  the  idea  of  body."  Elements  of  Psychology,  translated  by  C.  S.  Henry, 
.-.hap.  2.  Cours  de  IHirloife  dt  la  Phil,  da  17e  sticle.  Le$on  17. 

.But  wnjle  it  i&  easy  to  assent  to  these  general  truths  concern- 

Successr-  e  ^briM  ,  ,,  .  ,  .  ,  ,     ..          .     , 

inwh»o'»TTie7a»    ing  tJ>e  relation?  of  experimental  to  d  priori  knowledge,  it  is 
difficult  and  yet  more  important  to  show  precisely  in 


§516.  THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED   AND   ENUMERATED.  503 

what  form  and  by  what  successive  steps  these  truths  are  implied  in,  and 
yet  evolved  from  experience.  Concerning  the  former,  the  way  or  method 
in  which  this  knowledge  is  connected  with  our  experience,  we  observe 
They  are  ap-  (!•)  These  intuitions  are  apprehended  in  a  concrete,  not  an 
SnS^noViS  <&*&<*<*  form.  They  can  only  be  known  as  related  to  objects 
of  matter  or  spirit,  and  never  as  independent  of  either. 

The  intuitions  of  substance  and  attribute  ;  of  cause  and  effect  ;  of  means  and  end,  cannot 
be  separately  perceived  by  sense  or  consciousness,  nor  can  they  be  pictured  to  the  imagination 
as  separate  entities.  They  are  only  known  and  knowable  as  related  to  beings,  and  hi  connec- 
tion with  the  beings  to  which  they  are  related.  The  view  that,  because  they  are  intuitions, 
they  must  necessarily  be  perceived  apart,  or  by  a  faculty  in  any  way  analogous  to  a  power  of 
sense-perception,  is  only  fitted  to  mislead  the  mind,  and  is  wholly  untenable. 

(2.)  The  only  form  of  language  in  which  any  act  of  primitive 

They  are  best  ex-      ;         .  .  J 

pressed  in  prop-    intuition  is   adequately  expressed  is  the  proposition.     The 
subject  of  this  proposition  is  the  concrete  object  (of  matter 
or  spirit)  which  sense  or  consciousness  apprehends. 

We  do,  as  it  were,  say,  This  is  a  being,  cause,  effect  ;  this  is  long,  short,  before,  or  after, 
etc.  We  have  before  seen  that  the  proposition  is  the  proper  expression  for  all  acts  of 
knowledge.  That  this  which  is  true  of  all  the  other  modes  of  knowing,  is  preeminently  true 
of  this  species  or  form  of  knowing,  is  obvious.  All  knowledge  implies  the  apprehension  of 
Borne  relation,  and  is  therefore  an  act  of  judgment  ;  one  term  of  which  is  a  concrete  percept, 
or  a  conscious  experience.  But  this  knowledge  is  relational  above  all  others,  because  it 
is  invariably  affirmed  of  a  material  or  spiritual  being.  It  must,  therefore,  be  expressed  in  a 
proposition  as  its  appropriate  form  of  language. 

It  is  not  true,  as  is  sometimes  vaguely  conceived  and  represented,  that  the  mind  finds 
itself  in  possession  of  primary  conceptions,  which  it  then  unites  or  connects  into  first  proposi- 
tions or  principles,  but  the  original  conceptions  are  given,  as  we  have  seen,  in  and  through  such 
propositions.  This  precludes  the  possibility,  that  the  concepts  or  ideas  should  be  furnished 
by  one  faculty  —  as  the  reason  —  and  be  combined  in  propositions  by  another  faculty  —  the 
understanding.  The  true  doctrine  is,  that  the  original  propositions  are  analyzed  so  as  to 
furnish  the  primitive  ideas  or  notions. 

These    proposi-    (3.)  The  propositions  in  which  this  knowledge  is  first  given 

tions  are  singu-      x     '  m 

lar,  not  general,    or  expressed,  are  not  general,  but  singular  propositions. 

We  do  not  set  off  with  the  universal  beliefs  or  affirmations  :  Every  event  has  some 
cause.  EVERY  THING  SEEN  or  FELT  is  extended  or  enduring,  etc.,  etc.  But  as  we  apprehend 
each  separate  object  by  perception  or  consciousness,  we  apprehend  each  as  caused,  extended, 
enduring,  adapted,  etc.,  etc.,  affirming  mentally  —  i.  e.,  knowing  —  this  thing,  seen  or  felt,  is 
caused,  extended,  enduring,  or  adapted,  etc.  Cf.  Cousin,  Psychology,  c.  viii.  ix.  Cours  de 

t.,  etc.,  Le9ons  23,  24. 


(4.)  From  these  propositions,  as  is  true  in  all  other  cases,  are 

These     proposi-      *     '. 

tions  pass  into  derived  the  appropriate  concepts.  The  concepts  cause  and 
effect,  those  of  means  and  end,  as  well  as  those  appropriate  to 
extension,  all  appear  originally  as  parts  or  constituent  elements  of  proposi- 
tions. From  these  they  are  derived.  Into  these  several  concepts,  eacl 
of  these  propositions  is  contracted  and  condensed. 


506  THE   HITMAN  INTELLECT.  §517. 

(5.)  Before  these  propositions  and  their  concepts  are  appre- 

The  condition  of     ,v     ' 

generalizing    henaea  and  assented  to  as  universal  and  necessary,  the  mind 

these      propor-i-  .  ,,,          .,         ,,  ,          .      , 

tians  and  con-    must  turn  in  upon  itseli,  and  reflect  upon  what  it  does  and 
what  it  discerns  in  all  its  processes  of  knowing. 

In  each  of  these  processes  it  must  analyze  and  distinguish  the  elements  that  are  constant 
and  essential.  The  fact  that  each  is  constantly  present  in,  and  essentially  constituent  of,  these 
acts,  is  then  apprehended  and  affirmed  in  those  universal  propositions  which  we  call  first 
principles  and  necessary  truths.  Neither  the  concepts  nor  the  propositions  are  given  to  the 
mind  as  general  notions  or  universal  truths.  They  are  found  or  discovered  to  be  universally 
affirmable  of  all  individual  beings  and  acts.  It  is  only  by  a  critical  or  reflective  judgment  that 
the  mind  knows  them  as  universal,  necessary,  and  primary. 

The  several  acts  or  methods  of  our  knowing  are  reviewed ;  all  its  distinguishable  kinds 
are  brought  before  the  mind.  We  are  satisfied  that,  for  us,  or  by  us,  no  additional  methods 
or  kinds  arc  ever  exercised,  and  none  can  be  conceived  as  possible.  In  each  of  these  several 
kinds,  the  common  element  is  generalized  as  the  relation  of  substance  to  attribute  ;  of  cause  to 
effect ;  of  means  to  end  ;  of  percepts  to  extension  ;  of  psychical  states  to  time.  These  are  general- 
ized  into  concepts,  and  receive  their  appropriate  appellations,  which,  in  some  cases,  are  nouns, 
in  others,  circumlocutory  phrases ;  but  in  all,  serve  to  designate  the  always  present  and  essen- 
tially constituent  fact — exemplified  in  the  concrete  instance,  and  generalized  as  the  universal 
concept. 

The  singulars  which  we  generalize  in  the  case  of  these  relations  are,  in  some 
Relation  of  these  respects,  unlike  the  sense-attributes  which  we  generalize  into  their  appropri- 
ralizations.gen<  ate  concepts.  The  similarity  of  these  concrete  relations  is  not,  in  all  respects, 

comparable  to  the  similarity  which  exists  between  concrete  attributes ; 
especially  those  apprehended  by  the  senses.  The  generalized  concept  of  a  relation  does  not 
hold  the  same  position  with  respect  to  its  concrete,  as  does  the  concept  of  the  singular 
percept.  We  do  not  generalize  the  concept  cause  from  the  singular  cases  of  the  causal 
relation  exactly  in  the  same  way  as  we  generalize  the  concepts  white  and  color  from  the  differ- 
ent shades  of  white,  or  the  different  species  of  color.  The  generalized  relation  cannot  be 
directly  imaged  as  is  the  generalized  percept.  If  we  attempt  this,  we  can  only  image  some 
individual  percept,  and  then  attach  to  it  some  other  percept  known  by  memory  or  pictured  by 
the  imagination  as  connected  in  such  a  relation.  None  of  these  relations  can  be  imaged  directly ; 
they  must  all  be  indirectly  and  mediately  pictured  or  illustrated,  if  they  are  pictured  or  illus- 
trated at  all.  The  readiest  as  well  as  the  most  satisfactory  sensuous  image  or  vehicle  by  which 
they  can  be  discovered,  illustrated,  and  proved,  is  language,  which,  in  its  words  and  phrases, 
constantly  attests  the  presence  and  the  indispensableness  of  these  relations.  To  the  language 
of  men  we  go  to  find  the  indications  that  men  believe  in  them.  In  language,  also,  we 
discover  the  traces  of  the  various  differences  and  combinations  in  which  they  are  accepted  and 
applied. 

§  517.     IV.  The  relation  of  this  knowledge  to  experience  be- 

Stages  by  which     ' 

they  are  devei-    ing  understood  and  kept  m  mind,  we  are  prepared  to  attempt 
to  indicate  the  separate  stages  of  the  process  by  which  the 
knowledge  of  principles  a  priori  is  in  fact  developed  and  acquired.     Of 
these  five  may  be  clearly  distinguished. 

(1.)  The  first  act  or  stage  is  the  cognition  of  any  concrete 
ap^ehtSn  of  object,  of  which  in  the  way  already  shown  any  attribute  in- 
ject?01" volving  an  intuition  might  be  affirmed,  or  in  which  such 
might  be  exemplified.  The  object  may  be  material  or  spiritual,  it  may  bf 


§517.  THE    INTUITIONS   DEFINED   AND   ENUMEKATED.  50', 

a  being  or  an  act,  as  these  are  commonly  distinguished.  For  example,  it 
may  be  a  fruit,  a  piece  of  marble ;  the  combustion  of  wood,  the  explosion 
of  gunpowder,  the  shooting  of  a  star,  the  running  of  a  horse  ;  a  remem 
bered  occurrence,  a  sally  of  imagination,  a  fixed  purpose,  or  the  ego  that 
performs  conscious  acts. 

It  is  conceivable  that  these  and  the  like  objects  may  be  cognized  for  an  instant,  without 
the  perception  of  any  intuitional  element  or  relation.  Or  should  it  be  conceded  that  these 
cannot  he  apprehended  apart  for  any  length  of  time,  the  cognition  of  being  comes  first  in  the 
order  of  nature  and  of  acquisition. 

It  is  obvious  also  that  all  men  in  fact  attain  this  first  stage  of  knowledge.  The  prominent 
objects  of  sense  and  of  spirit  attract  the  attention  of  the  whole  race  through  those  acts  of  per- 
ception and  consciousness  of  which  all  are  capable. 

(2.)  The  next  step  or  stasre  is  the  apprehension  of  these  objects 

The    second,  of     V     '  .  .  J       .      .     J 

the  objects  as  re-  as  related  in  one  or  more  given  ways.  The  iruit  is  known 
as  oval  in  form,  as  large  or  small  in  size.  The  color,  taste, 
and  feeling  of  the  fruit  are  thought  of  it  as  qualities  or  properties.  The 
combustion  and  explosion,  the  remembering,  the  imagining,  are  known  as 
acts  of  the  material  or  spiritual  agent  or  as  effects  of  which  these  agents  are 
the  causes ;  or  as  the  ends  to  which  other  acts  are  adapted,  or  for  which 
they  are  designed. 

This  second  stage  is  reached  by  the  whole  race,  not  to  the  same  extent  or  perfection  in 
all,  but  so  far  that  all  may  be  said  to  achieve  this  kind  of  knowledge.  Material  objects  are 
known  by  all  men  as  long  and  short,  round  and  square.  Events  are  known  by  all  as  before  and 
after.  One  object  or  act  is  known  as  the  cause  or  the  end  of  another  object  or  act.  The  words 
which  express  and  indicate  the  more  familiar  of  these  relations  are  accepted  in  the  language 
of  all  men.  They  are  spoken  by  all,  and  understood  by  all  as  signifying  these  relations. 

(3.)    The  next  stage  or  act  is  when  the  relation  is  abstracted 

Third  the  appro-      v     ' 

tension  of  the     from  the  beings  to  which  it  belongs  and  is  generalized  into 

relation  abstrac-      J  v 

relations  higher  and  more  extensive,  contemplated  as  sepa- 
rate entities.  Thus  long,  short,  etc.,  are  contemplated  as  length  or  short- 
ness ;  round,  spherical, etc.,  are  known  as  roundness  and  sphericity;  past, 
present,  and  future  are  known  as  time  relations ;  the  power  to  produce 
this  or  that  effect  is  abstracted  and  generalized  as  the  causative  relation ; 
the  fitness  to  accomplish  this  or  that  end  is  generalized  and  abstracted  as 
the  relation  of  adaptation. 

This  third  stage  is  more  rarely  reached.  For  the  common  purposes  of  life  men  have  little 
occasion  to  view  these  attributes  and  relations  as  separate  entities,  and  still  less  to  carry  them 
to  the  highest  degrees  of  generalization.  Practical  men  have  little  need  to  consider  or  to  speak 
of  the  relations  of  time  and  space  or  substance  or  cause,  when  separate  from  concrete  objects 
and  events,  and  when  generalized  in  abstract  language.  Even  thinking  men,  who  may  be  well 
disciplined  and  practised  in  intellectual  activities  of  other  kinds,  have  few  motives  and  little 
inclination  to  deal  with  such  entities  in  their  most  abstract  form. 

The  fonrth  a  -  (4<)  The/owrtfA  stage  is  the  critical  consideration  of  the  pro- 
prehension  o  f  cesses  of  knowledge,  and  the  discernment  of  these  relations 

the    relation   as 

as  essential  elements  in  all  these  processes  and  as  the  funda 


508  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  5 IS 

mental  principles  which  are  implied  in  them  all.  It  is  manifest  that  this 
stage  is  reached  only  by  a  few,  and  by  those  only  whose  attention  is 
directed  to  the  critical  examination  of  the  intellectual  processes,  and  tr» 
a  speculative  consideration  of  the  principles  which  they  involve. 

There  are  but  few  who  ever  ask  themselves  what  it  is  to  know,  what  are  the  several  modes 
or  processes  of  knowing,  what  are  the  common  elements  which  are  always  present  in  these 
processes,  which  can  be  analyzed  in  and  generalized  from  them.  Only  a  small  portion  of 
thinking  men  are  trained  to  the  habits  of  analysis  and  abstraction  which  are  required  for 
such  critical  and  speculative  inquiries.  Fewer  still  raise  any  questions  as  to  the  ultimate  and 
most  general  assumptions  in  the  nature  and  relations  of  finite  things  on  which  the  entire 
structure  of  our  knowledge  is  sustained. 

(5.)    The  last  stage  or  act  of  distinct  knowledge  is  the  recog- 

The  fifth,  appre-      V.   . 

hension  of  corre-  mtion  ot  the  correlates,  usually  called  infinite  or  absolute, 
which  are  required  by  these  relations  when  they  are  gen- 
eralized and  reflected  on  in  their  completed  import.  Thus  the  relations 
of  extension  when  apprehended  as  belonging  to  every  material  object,  i.  e., 
to  the  universe  in  its  parts  and  as  a  whole,  imply  Space  as  their  correlate ; 
those  of  duration  imply  the  correlate  of  Time;  the  universe  conceived  as  a 
single  effect  implies  a  single  causing  agent — the  universe  conceived  as  a 
designed  effect  requires  that  this  agent  should  be  intelligent. 

These  correlates  Space,  Time,  and  God,  are  conceived  as  the  conditions 
of  the  possibility  of  the  universe,  and  the  ground  of  its  reality,  and  are 
therefore  the  first  principles  of  every  thing  that  is  and  can  be  known. 

It  is  manifest,  that  if  it  be  assumed  that  there  are  such  correlates  to  these  finite  beings, 
the  consideration  of  them  as  the  real  and  the  necessary  principles  of  all  beings  is  not  within 
the  reach  of  the  majority  of  men  for  the  reasons  already  given.  It  requires  a  capacity  for  the 
highest  analysis  and  abstraction  of  which  the  human  mind  is  capable.  It  supposes  an  interest 
in  and  a  capacity  for  wider  generalizations  than  most  men  exhibit.  Few  men  attain  to  these 
ideas  through  processes  that  are  purely  speculative.  Fewer  can  give  the  philosophical  reasons 
by  which  they  reach  and  on  which  they  receive  them. 

All  men  may  have  the  capacity  to  assent  to  truths  concerning  them  when  propounded  in 
terms  that  are  not  philosophical,  and  enforced  by  reasons  that  are  not  abstract  and  specula- 
tive ;  but  the  number  is  exceedingly  small  who  can  analyze  the  processes  by  which  they  are 
necessary,  or  see  their  relations  as  the  ground  of  all  being  and  of  all  knowledge. 

The  fact  that  the  recognition  of  these  truths  is  the  last  attainment  of  the  human  mind  is 
in  entire  harmony  with  the  general  law  that  the  higher  comes  after  the  lower  in  the  soul 
[Cf.  Lotze,  Nik.  B.  i.  c.  iv.] 

8  518.    This  review  which  we  have  taken  of  the  several  forms 

Explains   w  n  y     y 

they  are  d is-    in  which  these  truths  present  themselves,  and  the  several 

tinctly  known  by 

«ofe\v.  stages  by  which  they  are  developed  to  the  mind's  assent, 

jerves  to  explain  and  confirm  what  has  already  been  asserted  in  respect 
to  these  truths,  viz.,  that  though  first  in  authority  and  in  logical  depend- 
ence, they  are  the  last  which  are  reached  in  the  order  of  time  ;  and  that 
though  all  men  manifest  a  practical  belief  in  these  principles,  when  exem 


flUJM  I  7 

THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED    AND   ENUMERATED.  66£ 

plified  in  the  concrete,  yet  but  few  understand  or  assent  to  them  when 
stated  in  a  speculative  form. 

It  also  enables  us  to  understand  how  it  is  possible  that  they  should  be 
discovered  and  tested  in  a  variety  of  methods  suited  to  the  condition 
of  each  of  these  classes,  as  also  why  the  criteria  which  satisfy  one  class 
of  minds  should  neither  reach  nor  convince  minds  of  another  class. 

But  what  is  best  of  all,  it  explains  why  the  evidence  for 
language  of  their  truth  and  universal  acceptance  which  is  furnished  by 

the  language  and  the  actions  of  men  is  more  decisive  and 
satisfactory  than  that  which  comes  by  speculative  analysis  or  philosophical 
argumentation. 

We  have  seen  that  all  men  reach  the  second  stage  of  knowledge,  so  far  as  to  apprehend 
many  objects  in  one  or  all  of  these  necessary  relations  to  some  other  object,  i.  e.,  as  substance 
or  attribute,  as  cause  or  effect,  as  means  or  end,  etc.  Their  recognition  of  these  concrete  re- 
in tions,  they  express  by  their  language  in  appropriate  concrete  terms,  as  by  the  noun,  the 
adjective,  the  verb,  etc.,  in  their  various  forms  of  flexion  and  construction.  The  belief  in  their 
reality  they  express  by  their  actions,  their  wishes  and  hopes,  their  sacrifices  and  their  labors. 
Few  in  en  reach  the  third,  and  the  number  is  therefore  small  who  reflect  upon  the  relation 
of  causation  when  stated  as  generalized  from  individual  instances,  or  ask  themselves  whether 
it  is  universal  and  necessary  to  the  mind.  Much  less  do  they  concern  themselves  with  the 
inquiry  whether  this  relation  is  an  original  principle  or  element  in  the  processes  of  human 
knowledge.  Such  persons  cannot  understand  these  questions  when  they  are  propounded  and 
discussed  by  others,  because  the  conceptions  and  terms  are  strange  and  unfamiliar  to  their 
minds.  Still  less  can  they  appreciate  the  arguments  by  which  they  are  supported  and  the 
criteria  by  which  they  are  determined. 

And  yet  the  very  language  which  they  use  is  a  constant  profession  of  their  faith  in  the 
reality  and  importance  of  these  relations.  Almost  every  sentence  which  they  frame  and  word 
which  they  employ  is  a  voluntary  acknowledgment,  that  these  intuitions  are  necessarily  accept- 
ed by  all  men.  When  they  act,  every  one  of  their  expectations  and  deeds  is  a  more  decisive 
avowal  that  these  principles  are  absolutely  certain,  and  never  admit  an  exception. 

§519.    This  review  also  explains  how  it  can  be  that  men 

Recognized     in  .  . 

the  actions  when    may  reiect  truths  in  theory  which  thev  admit  in  fact.     In 

denied  in  theory.  ,      .  ,    .          ,  -, 

other  words,  it  explains  the  apparent  paradox  that  there  may 
be  truths  which  men  always  recognize  in  their  actions,  but  deny  or  ques- 
tion when  they  are  phrased  as  speculative  or  philosophical  propositions. 

Such  propositions  must  always  be  expressed  in  the  language  of  the  Schools,  that  is  in 
language  which  is  abstract  and  therefore  to  a  certain  extent  technical  in  its  signification.  They 
must  be  defended  by  appropriate  evidence,  the  evidence  that  is  appropriate  in  the  schools ; 
which  often  rests  upon  principles  with  which  the  mind  is  by  no  means  familiar  and  is  enforced 
by  methods  of  reasoning  to  which  it  has  not  been  trained  or  wonted.  Again,  many  men  who  are 
unschooled  and  all  who  are  schooled,  are  more  or  less  possessed  of  and  influenced  by  some 
gpeculative  theories  which  they  have  caught  up  by  accident  or  received  by  tradition  from  a 
venerated  or  a  fashionable  philosophical  source.  Such  principles,  traditions,  and  even  fashions 
in  philosophy  constitute  both  the  axioms  and  criteria  of  their  accepted  faith,  and  by 
these  they  measure  and  try  every  doctrine  which  they  are  called  to  consider.  If  such  square 
with  their  scanty  or  their  completed,  their  traditional  or  their  studied  philosophy,  they  receive 
them  as  valid  and  true ;  if  they  fail  to  do  so,  they  reject  them  because  they  are  iiiconsisten 


510  THE  HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §520. 

with  tl.e  principles  whicl:  they  accept.  But  when  these  same  faiths  are  required  for  theii 
assent  in  language  or  in  action,  they  present  themselves  in  another  form.  They  assent  tr 
them  without  hesitation,  or  rather  they  do  not  question  them  at  all.  They  do  not  even  rec 
ognize  the  possibility  that  they  can  be  questioned  by  any  one.  They  have  spoken  then 
belief  by  word  or  act  without  even  knowing  that  any  belief  has  been  uttered. 

We  are  justified  in  appealing  from  the  philosophy  of  men  to  their  words  and  actions. 
What  all  men  inadvertently  confess  in  their  casual  assertions,  what  they  imply  in  the  very 
forms  of  their  language,  what  their  actions  unbiassed  by  their  theories  show  that  they  rec- 
ognize, what  their  expectations  from  others  show  that  they  believe  that  their  fellow-men  also 
accept,  what  is  assumed  in  all  investigations  and  reasonings  without  the  attempt  to  give  any 
reasons  for  its  truth, — these  are  all  taken  to  be  or  to  involve  universal  and  necessary  trutha 
of  Intuition,  however  difficult  it  may  be  to  define  them  correctly,  to  reconcile  them  with  the 
dicta  of  a  received  philosophy,  or  to  show  their  place  in  any  order  of  systematic  arrangement. 
But  we  are  not  justified  for  these  reasons  in  neglecting  the  speculative  treatment  of  these 
truths.  Every  consideration  of  a  speculative  character  requires  us  to  subject  them  to  those 
criteria  which  are  purely  philosophical.  These  we  proceed  briefly  to  consider. 

§  520.  Y.  The  philosophical  criteria  of  primitive  conceptions 
Criteria.         and  first  truths  are  usually  stated  as  three :  '  their  univer- 
sality^ their  necessity,  and  their  logical  independence  and 
originality? 

(1.)  First  truths  are  universally  received.  If  they  are  not 
iSreai. are  Tmi"  u™versal  tney  can  ^e  neither  necessary  nor  logically  inde- 
pendent and  original.  But  in  what  sense  are  they  under- 
stood, and  by  what  evidence  can  they  be  shown  to  be  universal  ?  Surely 
not  in  this,  that  all  men  actually  assent  to  them  when  propounded  in  a 
scientific  form  and  phraseology. 

This  as  we  have  seen  is  from  the  nature  of  the  case  impossible,  inasmuch  as  all  men  are 
by  no  means  capable  of  understanding  the  terms  and  grasping  the  conceptions  which  enter 
into  them.  But  all  men  can  believe  them  in  the  concrete,  in  every  individual  case  in  which 
they  are  exemplified  without  knowing  that  they  thereby  exercise  knowledge  which  when 
stated  in  its  abstract  form  would  involve  the  principles  in  question.  Though  they  do  not 
know  this  themselves,  they  may  show  it  to  others  by  the  language  which  they  employ,  the 
actions  which  they  perform,  and  the  expectations  which  they  cherish.  These  are  sufficient  to 
prove  that  certain  truths  are  universally  accepted. 

(2.)  First  truths  are  also  necessary.  Truths  to  be  universal 
e  and  primitive  must  be  necessary,  i.  e.,  the  intellect  must  be 
constrained  by  the  constitution  of  its  being  and  the  spontane 
ous  workings  of  its  nature  to  receive  them  as  true.  It  cannot  know  ob- 
jects of  any  kind  except  under  their  relations  and  according  to  the  con- 
nections which  they  involve.  Should  it  attempt  to  do  so  or  to  prove  that 
it  does  not  employ  and  recognize  them,  it  would  make  the  effort  of  know- 
ing without  them,  and  of  proving  that  it  did  not,  by  using  these  very  re- 
lations in  its  efforts  and  its  arguments. 

When  these  truths  are  called  necessary,  the  intellect  is  conceived  as  endowed  with  a 
permanent  constitution  working  after  certain  laws,  to  uniform  results.  Should  it  be  suggested 
that  what  may  be  necessary  to  one  intellect  may  not  be  necessary  to  another,  or  tl  at  what 


§  521.  THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED   AND  ENUMERATED.  511 

maybe  necessary  to  one  order  of  intellects,  e.  g.,  toman,  may  not  be  necessary  to  another  order 
of  intellects,  e.  g.,  to  another  race  or  created  order  of  spirits,  it  may  suffice  to  answer  that  the 
grounds  by  or  through  which  we  make  this  suggestion  and  the  argument  by  which  we  enforce 
it  all  presuppose  the  application  and  necessity  of  these  relations  for  all  who  know,  or  to  whom 
our  knowledge  affirms  any  thing  to  be  true.  If  we  attempt  to  destroy  the  grounds  of  human 
knowledge  we  roust  do  it  by  means  of  the  very  relations  upon  and  out  of  which  this  knowl- 
edge is  constructed. 

(3.)  First  truths  must  be  loqically prior  to  and  independent  of 

They   are  inde-      \  '  _      , 

pendent  of  other    all  other  truths.     E,ach  one  of  them  is  the  most  generic  con- 
cept of  many  similar  individual  relations.     It  can  be  itself 
resolved  into  no  other,  and  can  be  proved  by  no  other. 

This  is  what  Buffier  must  intend,  when  he  says,  "  they  are  propositions  so  clear  that  they 
can  neither  be  proved  nor  attacked  by  any  propositions  more  clear  than  themselves."  Hamil- 
ton means  the  same  when  he  calls  them  incomprehensible,  defining  the  term  to  signify,  that 
of  which  we  know  the  fact,  but  cannot  give  a  reason.  Hence  they  are  called  self-evident  trutha 
and  Intuitions,  because  they  need  only  be  seen  or  apprehended  to  be  believed.  The  ad 
of  critical  or  speculative  intuition  is  not  an  act  of  sense-perception  nor  an  act  at  all  analogous, 
nor  is  it  an  act  of  memory,  nor  an  act  of  reasoning  in  any  of  its  forms ;  but  an  act  of  knowl- 
edge which  is  direct  and  original  and  is  the  necessary  condition  of  all  other  acts  of  knowl- 
edge, preeminently  of  those  which  are  the  highest  of  all,  viz.,  the  acts  of  thought. 

§  521.    It  follows  that  these  truths  are  neither  discovered  by 

They     are     not      ....  •. .       ,     e  .  rr,,  , 

discovered  by  in-  induction  nor  generalized  irom  experience.  That  truths 
thus  acquired  are  worthy  to  be  called  principles  in  a  very 
high  and  important  sense  has  already  been  conceded.  But  it  by  no 
means  follows  that  the  truths  which  are  principles  in  a  sense  which  is  still 
higher  and  more  eminent  are  also  derived  from  this  source.  That  they  are 
not  the  result  of  induction  has  been  shown  by  the  nature  of  induction  as 
revealed  in  the  analysis  already  given  of  the  process.  It  has  been  shown 
that  the  process  involves  certain  assumptions  as  true  ;  or  the  belief  of  cer- 
tain relations  as  original  and  self-evident.  Unless  we  begin  by  assuming 
that  these  relations  are  valid  and  original,  we  cannot  confide  in  the  pro- 
cess of  induction  itself.  Indeed,  without  these  assumptions,  the  process 
can  have  no  meaning. 

That  they  cannot  in  any  way  be  generalized  from  experience  has  been  shown  by  the 
analysis  already  given  of  their  relations  to  experience.  J.  S.  Mill,  in  his  Logic,  contends  most 
earnestly  that  all  the  so-called  original  necessary  truths,  including  the  postulates  of  mathe- 
matics, are  derived  by  Induction  through  experience.  The  consideration^  already  adduced 
are  decisive  against  his  theory.  This  will  appear  still  more  evident  when  we  consider  these 
triths  more  particularly. 

"  Man  kann  durch  sie  nie  Grundsatze  sondern,  nur  Lehrsatze  einer 
theoretischen  Wissenschaft  erschliessen.  Die  Induction  ist  nicht  der  Weg 
zu  d~n  noth wendigen  Wahrheiten,  sondern  der  Weg  zu  der  Verbindung 
ier  ^lothwendigen  Wahrheiten  mit  den  zufalligen  Wahrheiten." 

E.  F.  Apelt,  Theorie  der  Induction,  §  8,  p.  58, 


612  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  522 

§  522.    Nor  can  they  be  regarded  as  the  highest  premise! 

They   are   n  o  t     '  .          .  ,.       .  ,  L    .       ,     , 

major  premises    tor  comprehensive  syllogisms,  obtained  by  successive  pro- 

for  syllogisms.  \  ,  t       •  i 

cesses  of  regressively  analyzing  the  premises  or  assump- 
tions on  which  narrower  syllogisms  are  founded.  This  view  has  been 
countenanced,  if  it  has  not  been  taught  directly,  by  philosophers  of  very 
high  authority. 

Thus  Dr.  Reid  says,  "  When  we  examine,  in  the  way  of  analysis  the  evidence  of  any  proposition, 
either  we  find  it  self-evident,  or  it  rests  upon  one  or  more  propositions  that  support  it.  The  same  thing 
may  be  said  of  the  propositions  that  support  it,  and  of  those  that  support  them,  as  far  back  as  we  can  go. 
But  we  cannot  go  back  in  this  track  to  infinity.  Where,  then,  must  this  analysis  stop  ?  It  is  evident  that  it 
must  stop  only  when  we  come  to  propositions  which  support  all  that  are  built  upon  them,  but  are  them- 
selves supported  by  none— that  is,  to  self-evident  propositions."  Ess.  VI.  c.  iv. 

So  Aristotle  :  'H/xei?  Se  <f>a.(j.ev,  oure  naa-av  ejrKmjjuTjv  a7roSeucTiiicT}j>  elvai,  aAAa  TTJI/  rS>v  a.f*.fo<av  avownSSeiK- 
rov  •  KOI  rovff  on  avayKalov,  ifravepov  •  el  yap  avdyiti)  pey  ejuoTewrflai  TO.  Trporepa  Kal  e£  5>v  TJ  aTroSeif is,  iararan 
Se  wore,  TO.  ajueVa  TO.VT  avanoSeutTa.  avdyicr)  elvai.  Anal.  Post.  i.  8 ',  cf.  i.  22.  Cf.  McCosh,  Intuitions  of  Uie 
Human  Mind,  Part  i.  B.  i.  c.  ii.  §  1  (6). 

To  the  same  effect  Buffier  urges,  "  What  is  that  which  makes  the  little  knowledge  of  which  we  are 
capable,  so  defective  ?  It  is  that  in  the  chain  of  our  reasonings  there  are  propositions  at  which  our  intellect 
stops,  or  respecting  the  truth  of  which  others  do  not  agree  with  us.  These  we  endeavor  to  demonstrate  ; 
if  our  arguments  do  not  convince,  we  adduce  new  proofs  of  these  arguments.  But  in  going  up  from  proof 
to  proof,  we  must  at  last  reach  propositions  which  do  not  need  to  be  proved.  *  *  *  It  follows  therefore 
most  clearly  that  there  are  propositions  which  it  is  not  necessary  to  undertake  to  prove,  but  which  it  is 
of  the  last  importance  that  we  discern."  TraiU  d.prem.  ver.  Dessein,  etc.,  $  6. 

It  is,  however,  one  thing  to  show  that  without  first  truths  no  deduc- 
tion is  possible,  and  quite  another  to  show  that  such  truths  must  be  em- 
ployed as  the  ultimate  premises  in  our  most  comprehensive  deductions. 
The  analysis  already  given  of  the  deductive  process  has  shown  that  it  rests 
primarily  upon  the  relation  of  reason  to  conclusion,  which  in  its  turn  rests 
upon  the  relation  of  cause  to  effect.  It  has  also  shown  that  the  materials  for 
deduction  are  all  derived  from  induction  or  mental  construction.  First 
truths,  or  intuitive  relations  are  implied  as  in  one  sense  the  support 
or  foundation  of  the  process  of  deduction,  but  not  in  the  way  of  serving 
as  its  most  comprehensive  premises. 

Were  we  to  consider  the  process  of  deduction  in  its  purely  logical  relations, 

In  their  nature    we  should  clearly  see   that  these  truths  could  serve  no   use  as   premises. 

cannot       prove     __    ,  .  . ,  ,  ,  ,  .        .          ,.__»„• 

anything.  Nothing  could  be  proved  by  such  universal  and  wide-reaching  propositions  aa 

every  event  must  be  caused,  etc.,  etc.  As  soon  as  you  interpose  the  minor,  *  this 
explosion  is  an  event,'  you  make  no  progress  towards  additional  knowledge  in  the  conclusion. 
You  know  already  that  this  explosion  was  an  event.  In  knowing  it  at  all  you  had  already 
decided  that  it  was  one  of  the  things  that  are  caused.  Or  more  exactly,  deduction  as  a  logical 
process  consists  in-  the  act  of  affirming  [or  denying,  as  the  case  may  be]  the  predicate  of  a 
major  premise  of  the  subject  of  a  minor  by  means  of  an  intervening  middle  term.  Let  the 
major  premise  be  '  all  matter  is  extended,'  and  the  minor  be,  '  electricity  or  light  is  matter '  the 
conclusion  would  be  'light  or  electricity  is  extended.'  Here  it  is  argued  you  would  have  a 
convincing  process.  To  this  we  reply,  certainly,  it  would  seem  so,  provided  the  minor  were 
accepted  or  proved,  but  in  proving  that  light  or  electricity  is  matter,  you  must  prove 
that  they  possess  the  essential  properties  of  matter,  of  which  extension  is  one  and  is  known 
to  be  one  by  intuition.  From  premises  with  predicates  given  by  intuition  there  can  be  no 
progress  towards  any  conclusion.  The  same  fact  may  be  stated  more  briefly  thus :  whatever  ig 
intuitively  known  to  be  true  of  each  individual  of  the  whole  sphere  or  extent  of  a  concept, 


§  523.  THE   INTUITIONS    DEFINED   AND  ENUMERATED.  513 

need  not  and  therefore  cannot  be  proved  by  deduction  to  belong  to  every  such  individual. 
Moreover,  not  a  single  example  can  be  cited  of  a  syllogism  that  proves  any  thing,  the  major 
premise  of  which  is  a  first  truth  or  a  first  principle. 

For  the  purposes  of  deduction,  all  such  principles  are  barren  and  useless.  Nothing  can 
be  derived  fiom  them.  From  their  very  nature,  they  are  simply  statements  concerning  the 
relation?  or  elements,  that  are  present  in  every  act  of  our  higher  knowledge.  It  is  only  be- 
cuiise  they  are  present  as  an  essential  and  necessary  element  in  all  these  processes  that  they 
must  of  necessity  be  conditions  of  deduction. 

§  523.   VI.  These  intuitions  or  categories  are  in  the  strict 

They  are    inde-  ,,.  i       •      n      •     -i  i  /»  •,  mi     • 

pendent  of  one  sense  ot  the  term  logically  independent  of  one  another.  Iheir 
apparent  dependence  upon  one  another  arises  from  the  limits 
of  the  human  intellect.  These  prescribe  a  certain  order  in  the  familiar 
acquisition  of  these  concepts  and  in  the  frequency  and  extent  of  their  ap- 
plication. 

The  observation  is  very  common  that  by  a  logical  necessity  we  must  think  of  being 
before  we  think  of  its  relations  or  attributes  ;  of  time  before  we  think  of  space  ;  of  all  these 
before  we  think  of  cause,  and  of  these  together  with  causation  before  we  think  of  design :  or,  as 
expressed  in  other  language ;  Being  is  fundamental  to  all  the  other  categories,  and  must  be 
presupposed  before  and  as  the  condition  of  them  all :  and  in  a  similar  manner  the  less  musi 
precede  the  more  dependent  till  the  entire  circle  is  complete. 

This  attempt  to  develop  the  categories  from  one  another  was  carried  to  its  extreme  by 

.  Hegel,  who  began  with  being,  and  making  being  to  be  equal  to  nothing,  L  e.  to  have  no 

ment  of  the  cate-     content,  sought  by  what  he  called  its  becoming,  i.  e.,  the  independent  and  necessary 

gories.  movement  of  the  concept,  to  ovolve  all  the  categories  from  one  another,  not  only  of 

thought  but  of  material  and  spiritual  existence,  in  a  self-completing  and  perpetually 

repeated  circle.    This  self-evolved  and  self-completing  circle  of  necessary  concepts  was  conceived  by  him  as 

the  Idea,  and  all  thes^  together  constituted  the  absolute,  i.e.  the  sum  total  of  mutually-related  possible,  and 

actually  conceivable  thoughts  and  things. 

Hegel's  mistake  was  twofold.  He  attempted  to  derive  things  from  thoughts,  or  real  from  logical  rela- 
tions, instead  of  finding  all  logical,  i.  e.,  all  generalized  relations  in  those  which  are  real.  He  attempted 
to  derive  one  category  i'rcm  another,  instead  of  explaining  the  apparent  dependence  of  one  upon  another  by 
the  order  in  which  they  are  developed  to,  and  the  extent  in  which  they  are  applied  by,  the  mind  through  its 
psychological  limitations. 

These  categories  cannot  be  developed  from  one  another,  for  if  this  were 
Why  they  seem  possible,  they  would  not  be  primitive  and  original.  One  cannot  be  explained 
on  one^nother.  into  or  resolved  by  another.  None  of  them  is  properly  complex,  for  if  this 

were  so,  each  of  the  constituent  elements  would  be  original  and  primitive, 
but  not  their  constituted  whole.  They  cannot  be  dependent  in  the  relation  of  content,  i.e.,  tho 
import  of  one  cannot  be  resolved  into  that  of  another.  Nor  is  one  more  extensive  than  the 
other,  so  far  as  the  real  objects  are  concerned  to  which  they  may  possibly  be  applied.  Every 
object  that  exists  must  be  conceived  as  existing,  as  diverse  from  others,  as  related  to  others, 
as  whole  or  part,  as  in  time  and  space,  as  capable  of  number,  etc.,  etc.  Were  the  mind 
capable  of  attending  to  all  these  conceivable  relations  of  every  existing  object  by  a  single 
intuitive  act ;  were  it  not  dependent  upon  the  slow  processes  of  observation  and  induction  tc 
learn  which  is  related  to  which  as  cause  and  effect,  power  and  law,  means  and  end,  these  rela- 
tions would  be  equally  extensive  in  their  application,  and  would  all  be  co-ordinate  with  one 
another  in  the  view  of  the  human  as  they  are  before  the  divine  mind.  But  inasmuch  as  the 
human  mind  proceeds  in  its  knowledge  step  by  step,  some  of  these  relations  are  far  more 
familiarly  and  far  more  extensively  applied  than  others.  Some  of  them  are  applied  to  objects  of 
imagination  and  thought,  while  others  are  more  rarely  affirmed  even  of  things.  The  relations 
of  dependence  between  them  are  therefore  chronological  and  psychological  rather  than  Ipgical 
33 


514  THE    HUMAX   INTELLECT.  §  525. 

They  arc  founded  on  the  readiness  with  which  they  are  acquired,  and  the  freqatncy  witi 
which  they  are  applied  by  the  finite  intellect  of  man,  which  can  give  its  attenth  n  to  but 
tew  objects  at  once ;  and  to  some  objects  more  readily  than  to  others. 

§  524.  VII.  The  categories  or  intuitions  may  be  divided 
1"  *nto  theformal)  t7ie  mathematical,  and  the  real.  The  formal 
are  those  which  are  necessarily  involved  in  the  act  of  knowl- 
edge, whatever  be  its  objects-matter — whether  they  be  real,  imagined,  or 
generalized — whether  they  be  actually  existing  or  purely  mental  creations. 
They  are  essential  to  the  form  or  process  of  knowledge,  and  appear  in  all 
its  objects  or  products.  The  mathematical  are  those  which  grow  out  ol 
the  existence  of  space  and  time  and  suppose  these  to  be  realities.  The 
relations  included  under  this  definition  are  not  exclusively  used  in  the 
sciences  of  number  and  quantity,  but  inasmuch  as  they  are  fundamental 
to  these  sciences,  we  distinguish  them  by  this  epithet ;  using  mathematical 
to  designate  all  the  time  and  space  relations  and  those  which  are  de- 
pendent upon  them.  The  real  are  those  which  are  ordinarily  recognized 
as  generic  and  fundamental  to  the  so-called  qualities  and  properties  of 
existing  things,  both  material  and  spiritual.  We  do  not,  however,  by 
using  the  term  real,  imply  or  concede  that  the  formal  and  the  mathe- 
matical are  any  the  less  real — but  that  they  are  not  limited  so  exclusively 
to  objects  really  existing. 

To  analyze  the  categories  into  their  ultimate  elements,  is  confessedly  not  easy.  Some 
Why  difficult  to  tna*  seem  to  be  simple  and  ultimate,  prove  themselves,  on  a  closer  inspection,  to  be  corn- 
determine  and  plex  and  derived.  To  arrange  them  in  a  satisfactory  classification  is,  if  possible,  still 
classify  them-  more  difficult.  The  principles  by  which,  and  the  starting-point  from  which,  such  a 

classification  may  be  conducted,  are  various,  and  are  far  from  being  universally  agreed 
upon.  Should  our  attempt  be  only  partially  successful,  it  may  yet  further  the  ends  of  truth  by  its  partial 
success,  and  its  partial  failure,  as  the  first  is  approved  and  as  the  second  provokes  criticism. 

The  problem  is,  to  determine  what  relations  and  concepts  are  original,  in  the  sense  of  being  incapable 
of  being  interchanged  with  and  derived  from,  any  other.  The  difficulty  of  solving  the  problem  is  greatly 
increased  by  the  circumstance  that  the  same  original  continually  appears  and  reappears  under  different 
names  ;  the  difference  in  the  terms  being  owing,  in  part,  to  merely  linguistic  influences,  and  in  part  to 
the  combination  of  the  original  with  some  other  element,  giving  a  complex  notion,  in  which  the  category 
is  prominent.  In  other  cases,  the  element  in  question  is  disguised  under  a  term  in  which  its  purpose  or 
use  is  most  conspicuous.  Thus,  the  category  of  being  signifies  generic  or  thought-being,  real  being,  an 
existing^  i.  e.,  individual  being,  substance,  etc.,  and  the  relations  of  causation  are  more  or  less  conspicuous 
and  yet  variously  applied  in  the  terms  power,  efficiency,  capacity,  faculty,  quality,  etc.,  etc. 

The  principal  categories  and  intuitions  may  be  determined  by  a  reference  to  the  several 
acts  and  objects  of  knowledge  which  have  come  under  consideration  in  the  preceding  analysis 
of  the  powers,  products,  and  processes  of  the  human  intellect.  In  this  analysis  we  have  sought 
to  recognize  all  the  objects  and  relations  involved,  and  the  review  of  it  will  be  likely  to  suggest 
the  most  important. 

§  525.  The  formal  categories  have  been  defined  as  the 
'"Ses Tmal  °ate"  Sener^c  conceptions  and  relations  which  are  involved  in 

every  form  or  kind  of  knowledge.  We  call  them  forma] 
because  they  are  present  in  every  act  of  knowing,  whatever  be  its  con 
ditions  or  objects.  These  essential  and  always  present  relations  will  not,  of 
course  disappear  when  the  real  relations  present  themselves  which  are  de 


§526,  THE   INTUITIONS   DEFINED    AND   ENUMERATED.  51£ 

rived  from  the  objects  known.  They  must  perpetually  appear  and  re- 
appear in  connection  with  these,  whether  they  are  recognized  or  over 
looked. 

It  will  be  observed  that  these  are  not  formal  in  the  sense  in  which  the 
term  is  often  applied,  i.  e.,  as  pertaining  exclusively  to  logical  or  thought* 
knowledge.  They  are  present  in  all  the  forms  of  knowing,  in  conscious- 
ness, sense-perception,  and  representation,  as  truly  as  in  the  technically 
called  forms  of  thought.  Thought  generalizes  them,  and  hence,  even 
when  they  are  spoken  of  in  perception  and  consciousness,  they  are  pre- 
sented to  the  mind  as  concepts,  and  thus  involve  the  relations  of  concepts 
to  concepts,  as  well  as  the  relations  of  things  to  things. 

Knowledge,  in  all  its  forms,  has  been  defined  as  the  apprehension  of  being.  Every  thing 
known  is  known  as  a  being  (§  48).  The  concept  of  being  is  coextensive  with  knowledge,  and 
is  therefore  fundamental.  But  in  knowing,  we  not  only  apprehend  being  but  beings  as  related 
(§  49).  Relationship  or  the  condition  of  being  related,  is  a  concept  which  is  as  truly  involv- 
ed in  every  act  of  knowledge  and  is  equally  extensive  and  original  with  being. 

But  in  knowing  being  as  related,  we  must  distinguish  beings  from  their  relations — i.  e. 
knowledge  involves  analysis  (§  50),  and  thus  requires  the  condition  of  being  distinguished, 
i.  e.,  diversity  in  objects  known,  and  that  this  should  be  as  extensive  as  the  act  of  knowledge. 
Not  only  is  analysis  present  in  every  act  of  knowledge,  but  synthesis  also.  But  union  and 
separation  involve  products  in  objects  related  as  wholes  and  parts. 

One  being  is  distinguished  from  another  being  and  one  relation  from  another  relation,  as 
truly  as  one  being  is  distinguished  from  its  relations.  The  relation  of  diversity  extends  to 
beings  and  relations. 

But  again:  when  beings  are  generalized  they  are  united,  i.  e.,  brought  into  a  whole,  by 
means  of  common,  i.  e.,  similar,  relations  (§  390).  They  cannot  be  described  in  language  or 
defined  in  science,  except  by  means  of  their  characteristic  relations.  They  are  known  and 
knowable  by  these  common  properties.  Not  only  is  every  being  known  by  its  distinguishing 
relations,  but  they  are  still  further  known  in  their  classes  by  the  greater  or  less  number  of 
relations  which  are  common  and  peculiar  to  each,  i.  e.,  by  being  combined  in  class-concepts, 
which  are  more  or  less  comprehensive.  Distinguishability  by  relations,  enters  very  largely  into 
our  knowledge.  It  is  present  as  extensively  as  generalization  or  the  use  of  concepts.  This 
gives  us  the  so-called  category  of  substance  and  attribute,  as  at  least  coextensive  with  the  act 
of  knowledge  by  concepts.  But  the  concept,  in  its  double  relation  of  content  and  extent, 
involves  logical  analysis  and  synthesis,  with  logical  parts  and  wholes  as  their  products. 

Diversity  again  involves  the  relations  of  identity,  in  the  double  form 
of  real  and  logical  identity,  according  as  the  object-matter  is  a  being 
known  to  be  identical  with  itself,  or  as  it  is  a  concept  regarded  as  identical 
with  its  elements. 

§  526.  We  pass  from  the  act  to  the  objects  of  knowledge, 
icai  or  logical  All  the  beings  which  we  know  are  either  material  or  spiritual. 

The  distinctive  relations  of  each  are  manifold,  as  we  have  seen  ; 
but  those  most  generic  and  universal  are  their  time  and  space  relations. 
All  spiritual  beings  and  phenomena  are  enduring  or  time-requiring.  All 
material  beings  and  phenomena  are  extended,  or  space-occupying,  and 
indirectly  time-filling.  These  relations  are  coextensive  with  these  two 


516  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §5  2'< 

kinds  of  being,  and  hence  are  said  to  be  characteristic  of  them,  as  existing 
or  real  objects. 

It  is  by  means  of  space-relations  that  we  connect  together  the  several  percepts  that  art 
given  by  the  separate  senses  into  material  wholes  or  things.  These  material  wholes  we  divide 
into  smaller  spatial  limits,  or  we  can  enlarge  them  by  extending  their  limits  and  adding  tc 
their  substance,  thus  making  material  wholes  and  parts  by  the  analysis  and  synthesis  that  ia 
essential  to  all  sense-perception. 

By  the  time-relations  we  connect  the  several  states  of  the  soul  which  we  experience  in 
consciousness  as  coexisting  and  successive,  and  affirm  the  continued  and  identical  existence 
of  the  soul  itself;  making  wholes  and  parts  of  its  activity,  as  we  are  conscious  of  the  soul 
as  one  existing  being  in  many  acts  or  states. 

Time  and  space  relations  are  eminently  individualizing  relations,  inasmuch  as  the  indi- 
vidual objects  of  sense-perception  and  consciousness  are  known  as  limited  to  certain  time  and 
apace  relations,  as  now  and  then,  here  and  there,  or  as  still  further  limited  by  the  combina- 
tion of  the  two — the  observer  occupying  a  given  place,  or  existing  at  a  given  time  when  he  ia 
respectively  conscious  of  a  psychical  stale  as  now  or  then,  or  cognizant  of  a  sense-object  as  here 
or  there.  This  is  equivalent  to  the  use  of  the  definite  articles  the,  this,  or  that.  But  again, 
these  relations  may  be  generalized,  and  so  express  size,  form,  situation,  and  direction,  the  pres- 
ent, the  past,  and  the  future,  and  so  be  applicable  to  a  great  variety  of  material  and  spiritual 
objects. 

The  most  striking  scientific  use  to  which  they  are  applied  is  when 
the  ideal  relations  of  certain  products  of  the  constructive  imagination  are 
generalized,  and  the  various  concepts  of  magnitude  and  number  are  the 
results,  with  the  relations  which  they  involve.  These  give  us  another 
species  of  thought-wholes  and  thought-parts,  which  are  the  representatives 
and  symbols  of  the  various  species  of  quantity.  It  is  for  their  important 
service,  and  their  ready  application  to  these  uses,  that  time  and  space 
relations  are  called  by  eminence  the  mathematical  relations. 

Time  and  space  relations  also  render  another  important  service.  All  spiritual  phenomena, 
and  all  thoughts,  i.  e.,  intellectual  concepts  and  relations,  must  of  necessity  be  set  forth  by 
analoga  which  are  founded  on  sense-objects  or  sense-images,  i.  e.y  on  objects  and  images 
borrowed  from  the  material  world,  and  holding  relations  to  both  space  and  time.  That  is,  the 
concepts  proper  to  all  these  words,  must  in  some  way  or  other  be  constructed  of  elements 
which,  in  the  ultimate  analysis,  are  derived  from  properties  or  relations  that  are  imaged  in 
apace  and  time.  The  most  abstract  terms  in  every  language — the  terms  for  the  very  categories 
themselves,  as  being,  diversity,  relationship,  even  for  time  and  space  themselves — will  be  found 
to  be  derived  from  such  images,  or  to  suggest  them.  The  universal  attendant  upon  all 
phenomena,  whether  material  or  spiritual  activities,  or  their  products,  is  motion.  Hence,  motion 
is  used  so  largely  in  the  construction  of  all  concepts,  and  the  importance  of  motion,  as  the  one 
category  that  is  in  a  sense  common  to  all  the  rest  and  the  agent  by  which  beings  and  their 
thought-relations  are  conceived  by  the  mind.  But  motion  implies  both  space  and  time,  the 
concepts  of  which  it  enables  us  to  construct,  and  which,  in  its  turn,  it  helps  us  to  reason  of,  and 
to  define.  (Cf.  A.  Trendelenburg,  Logische  Unfersuc/tungen). 

§  527.  Tho  remaining  class  of  relations  is   the    real,  the  so- 
i  cate-    called  qualities,  properties  or  powers  of  existing  material  and 
spiritual  beings.     These  are  reducible  to  two,  viz.,  causation 


J  527.  THEORIES    OF   INTUITIVE   KNOWLEDGE.  511 

or  the  capacity  to  produce  effects ;  and  adaptation  or  the  fitness  to  acconv 
plish  certain  designs  or  ends. 

The  first  is  generic  to  all  material  and  spiritual  properties  and  powers.  Every  thing  which 
we  call  a  sensible  or  spiritual  quality  in  nature  requires  and  supposes  the  fundamental  relation 
of  cause  and  effect.  Every  such  quality  when  affirmed  of  a  being  is  but  another  name  for  its 
causative  power  to  produce  such  and  such  an  understood  or  assumed  effect.  Even  spatial 
motions  are  conceived  by  the  spatial  relations  which  they  involve  or  bring  to  view,  as  causal 
capacities  to  produce  or  effect  certain  mathematical  constructions,  and  thus  in  a  certain  sense 
to  come  under  the  category  of  causation.  We  extend  the  same  relation  to  the  properties  of 
abstracta  or  the  mental  entities  which  are  formed  by  abstraction  and  generalization.  These 
causative  relations  furnish  the  most  important  materials  for  the  analysis  and  definition  of  our 
concepts  of  material  and  spiritual  things,  and  for  the  arrangement  of  them  into  classes.  The 
so-called  powers  of  matter  and  faculties  of  spirit  are  causal  capacities  ;  the  conditions  to  the 
actual  exertion  of  this  causal  force  being  called  their  laws.  These  conditions  are  most  conspic- 
uous in  those  laws  of  material  forces  which  are  found  in  those  mathematical  relations,  the 
value  of  which  has  been  so  amply  illustrated  in  the  progress  of  physical  science.  The  elements 
into  which  analysis  and  preeminently  scientific  analysis  seeks  to  resolve  all  material  and  spirit- 
ual  agents,  are  their  causative  energies. 

But  when  science  combines  these  elements  which  it  has  separated,  for  the  rational  use  or 
interpretation  of  nature,  it  recognizes  the  second  generic  relation,  viz.,  the  relation  of  adapta- 
tion. It  does  this  when  it  itself  combines  together  several  agencies  for  the  designed  produc- 
tion of  an  effect,  or  when  it  interprets  a  result  which  it  finds  in  nature  by  the  combined 
activity  of  the  agencies  which  it  knows  are  fitted  and  it  believes  were  designed  to  effect  it, 
A.S  by  analysis  we  separate  the  several  causative  elements  of  an  object,  and  in  so  doing,  turn 
tne  mind  in  different  directions  or  aspects  in  order  to  view  the  object  hi  its  relations  to  every 
other,  so  by  synthesis  we  bring  these  elements  together  when  we  view  them  as  forming  the 
designed  or  permanent  essence  of  the  object  before  us.  We  do  the  same  when  we  regard 
several  powers  of  different  beings  or  several  beings  as  acting  together  to  accomplish  any  effect 
for  which  they  are  essential.  It  is  by  the  relation  of  adaptation  in  certain  powers  hi  nature 
to  certain  designs  of  nature  that  we  explain  the  permanence  of  individuals  and  classes.  It  is 
by  the  adaptation  of  the  powers  and  laws  of  the  objects  which  we  know,  to  the  impulses  and 
operations  of  the  knowing  mind,  that  we  explain  the  endurance  of  the  laws  of  nature.  It  is 
by  the  same  consideration  of  adaptation  that  we  confide  in  the  harmonious  action  of  the 
powers  of  nature  and  the  stability  of  her  structure  ;  that  we  rely  upon  the  trustworthiness  of 
her  indications,  or  believe  in  the  development  and  progress  of  the  Universe.  It  is  by  adapta- 
tion that  we  connect  the  parts  of  the  universe  into  a  finite  system  or  whole  or  find  the 
best  solution  of  its  being  and  its  order  and  interpretability  in  a  self-existent  and  per- 
sonal Intelligence. 


CHAPTER  II. 

THEORIES    OF   INTUITIVE    KNOWLEDGE. 

COMPLETE  sketch  of  the  various  theories  which  have  been  held  in  respect  to  the  j 

origin,  and  authority  of  primitive  notions  and  intuitive  judgments,  would  involve  the 
most  important  portion  of  a  complete  history  of  Metaphysics  or  Speculative  Philosophy 
Such  a  sketch  would  be  entirely  out  of  place  in  the  present  work,  and  will  not  be  at 


618  TUE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  529 

tempted.  We  shall  only  endeavor  to  group  and  critically  examine,  under  a  few  compre- 
hensive titles,  those  theories  which  have  any  present  interest  for  modern  thought,  01 
which  are  still  maintained  in  modern  schools  of  philosophy. 

§  528.  1.  It  has  been  extensively  taught  and  believed,  that  these  original  ideas  and 
The  theory  of  a  g^t  truths  are  discerned  by  direct  insight  or  intuition,  independently  of  their  relation 
vision  of  first  *°  *ne  phenomena  of  sense  and  spirit.  The  power  to  behold  them  is  conceived  as  a 
truths.  special  sense  for  the  true,  the  original,  and  the  infinite  ;  as  a  divine  Reason  which  acts 

by  inspiration,  and  is  permitted  to  gaze  directly  upon  that  which  is  eternally  triw 
and  divine.  The  less  the  soul  has  to  do  with  the  objects  of  sense  the  better — the  more  it  is  withdrawn 
from  these,  the  more  penetrating  and  clear  will  be  its  insight  into  the  ideas  which  alone  are  permanent 
and  divine.  Such  are  the  representations  of  Plato,  Plotinus,  etc.,  among  the  ancients.  Similar  language 
has  been  employed  by  many  in  modern  times  who  have  called  themselves  Platonists.  Platonizing 
theologians  have  freely  availed  themselves  of  this  phraseology  and  have  seemed  to  sanction  the  views  which 
this  language  signifies.  Thus  the  Platonizing  and  Cartesian  divines  of  the  seventeenth  century,  as  Henry 
More,  John  Smith  of  Cambridge,  Ralph  Cudworth^  and  multitudes  of  others,  freely  express  themselves. 
Philosophers  who  Platonize  in  thought  or  language  have  adopted  similar  phraseology  ;  some  have  even 
pressed  these  doctrines  to  the  most  literal  interpretation.  Malebranclie,  Schelling,  Coleridge,  Cousin,  and 
others,  have  allowed  themselves  to  use  such  language  and  have  given  sanction  to  such  views  more  or  lesa 
dearly  conceived  and  expressed.  Those  who  combine  with  philosophic  acuteness,  the  power  of  vivid  im- 
agination and  of  eloquent  exposition,  not  infrequently  meet  the  difficulties  which  attend  the  analysis  and 
explanation  of  the  foundations  of  knowledge,  by  these  half-poetic  and  half-philosophical  representations. 
Whatever  may  be  their  real  meaning,  it  is  manifest  that  the  representations  which  they  give  are  not 
true  when  literally  interpreted.  Tt  cannot  be  successfully,  scarcely  soberly  maintained,  that  these  ideas  and 
truths  are  discerned  by  the  mind  out  of  all  relation  to  actual  beings  and  concrete  phenomena.  It  is  so  far 
from  being  true  that  the  mind  needs  to  be  delivered  from,  or  to  look  away  from  the  sensible  in  order  to 
discern  the  rational,  that  it  should  always  be  remembered,  that  it  is  only  by  means  of  the  sensible  that 
permanent  principles  and  relations  can  ever  be  reached.  No  direct  inspection  of  primitive  ideas  and 
principles  is  conceivable.  It  is  not  by  withdrawing  the  attention  from,  but  by  fixing  it  upon  the  facts  and 
phenomena  of  the  actual  world,  that  the  truths  and  relations  of  the  world  which  is  ideal  and  rational  can 
be  discerned  at  all. 

If  we  put  a  more  sober  as  well  as  a  more  charitable  interpretation  upon  the  language  in  question,  we 
shall  be  safe  in  asserting,  that  when  this  class  of  writers  require  that  the  intellect  should  be  withdrawn 
from  the  sensible  in  order  that  it  may  discern  the  rational,  they  mean  only  that  the  mind  should  disregard 
what  is  peculiar  to  theindividual,  and  consider  those  attributes  and  relations  which  are  necessary  and  uni- 
versal When  they  insist  that  there  is  in  man  a  special  sense  or  insight  for  the  supersensual,  they  intend 
that  the  mind  cannot  avoid  contemplating  the  higher  relations  of  sensible  and  transitory  objects. 

§  529.  2.  Many  of  the  earlier  philosophers  and  theologians  of  modern  times,  following 
the6  ^are^  ^is*  the  Scholastics  of  the  middle  ages,  were  accustomed  to  say  that  these  ideas  and  truths 
cerned  by  the  are  discerned  by  the  light  of  reason  and  the  light  of  nature,  or  that  they  are  evidenced 
light  of  nature.  or  evinced  by  their  own  light.  The  use  of  this  language  is  in  part  to  be  traced  to  the 
often-repeated  maxim  of  Aristotle  that  some  truths  cannot  be  demonstrated,  but 
must  be  accepted  without  proof ;  in  part  by  a  Platonic  interpretation  of  the  passage  in  the  gospel  of  John 
(i.  9),  in  which  the  Word  is  said  to  enlighten  every  man  who  cometh  into  the  world. 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  origin  of  the  phrase,  the  fact  is  undoubted  that,  before  the  critical 
investigations  were  introduced  by  Descartes  which  led  to  the  modern  psychology,  these  primitive 
Ideas  and  primitive  truths  were  generally  said  to  be  discerned  by  the  light  of  nature. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  phrase  is  figurative  and  expresses  only  the  fact  which  remains  to  be  explained 
and  accounted  for,  that  these  truths  are  neither  generalized  from  experience  nor  deduced  by  logical  ratio- 
cination ;  that  they  are  no  sooner  thought  of  than  they  are  assented  to,  and  that  upon  them  as  original 
assumptions  rests  the  validity  of  all  generalization  and  deduction. 

The  following  account  of  the  lumen  naturale  is  taken  from  the  Lexicon  Philosophicum  of  CJutuvinus, 
Rotterdam,  1692.  "  Hujus  modi  autem  lumen  human®  menti  convenire  ex  eo  confici  putant,  quod  eidem 
humanae  insit,  tarn  ea,  quse  vulgo  appellatur  intelligentia,  sive  habitus  primorum  piincipiorum,  quam  lex 
raturalis  ;  quse  certe  nihil  aliud  esse  posse  aiunt  quam  prsedictum  lumen  naturale." 

"  Inest  quidem  humanae  menti  cum  intelligentia,  turn  lex  naturalis  :  ilia  quageneraliuin  quarundarum 
p  opositionum  ad  quas,  velut  ad  primam  scientiee  normam,  omnes  disciplinarum  omnium  demonstrationea 
revocari  possunt,  nt  impossibile  est  idem  simul  esse,  et  non  esse;  tolum  est  sua  parte  majus ;  hsec  qu4  boni 
faciendi,  malique  vitandi,  ut  honeste  vivere,  neminem  Iczdere,  suum  cuique  tribuere,  mens  huniana,  nemine 
mortalium  docente,  et  conscia  et  persuasissima  est.  Sed  utraque  ilia  mentis  humanse  qualitas  est  LUMEN 
KATUBALE;  si  quidem  utraque  est  informatio  nostrse  menti  &  Deo,  et  de  Deo  ingenita,  nullum  unquanc 
flnem  habitura.  Ilanc  autem  sententiam  impugnant  alii."  Cf.  Notiones  Communes.  Chauvini  LAX.  Pktt 


J531.  THEORIES    OF   INTUITIVE   KNOWLEDGE.  519 

§  530.  3.  The  doctrine  has  been  earnestly  held  and  taught  that  these  ideas  and  belie* 
That  they  are  are  ^nna^e  in  or  connate  with  the  soul.  This  is  well  known  as  the  doctrine  which  Des- 
innaie  or  con-  cartes  is  supposed  to  have  taught,  and  to  the  refutation  of  which  Locke  devoted  the  first 
book  of  his  Essay.  It  is  that  the  intellect  finds  itself  at  birth  or  as  soon  as  it  wakes  ta 
conscious  activity,  to  be  possessed  of  ideas  to  which  it  has  only  to  attach  the  appropriate 
names,  or  of  judgments  which  it  needs  only  to  express  in  fit  propositions.  Whether  this  doctrine  as  thus 
defined  and  stated,  was  ever  held  by  any  one  may  perhaps  be  questioned.  Even  Descartes  himself  seems, 
when  pressed,  wholly  to  abandon  the  doctrine  which  he  had  earnestly  propounded  and  made  the  foundation 
of  the  most  important  conclusions.  That  many  have  used  language  which  would  admit  only  of  this  con- 
struction can  be  satisfactorily  shown.  But  no  philosopher  would  be  thought  worthy  of  attention  who  should 
contend  that  these  primary  conceptions  are  formed  by  the  mind  without  the  experience  of  individual  objects, 
or  that  the  mind  at  a  very  early  period  of  its  activity  has  any  judgments  which  involve  them.  All  will 
agree  that  it  is  only  after  the  experience  of  many  individual  objects  that  these  conceptions  are  developed 
to  its  distinct  apprehension,  and  that  the  mind  must  reach  the  highest  and  last  stage  of  its  development 
before  the  so-called  innate  ideas  are  born  into  life. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  would  be  conceded  by  many,  and  can  be  defended  as  true,  that  the  capacity  to 
evolve  these  ideas  and  these  truths  is  born  with  man  and  forms  an  essential  feature  of  his  constitution  aa 
a  man.  Not  only  is  he  endowed  with  these  capacities  but  he  is  also  furnished  with  tendencies  which  im- 
pel to  their  exercise,  under  which  these  conceptions  and  judgments  are  surely  and  necessarily  developed 
BO  soon  as  the  mind  applies  the  necessary  attention  or  awakes  to  the  requieite  conditions.  Even  before 
these  conceptions  are  generalized  they  are  assented  to  in  the  individual  and  concrete,  in  the  most  impoitant 
kinds  of  knowledge. 

"What  is  innate  in  man  is,  then,  the  capacity  to  know  objects  under  these  universal  and  necessary 
relations  so  soon  as  the  mind  is  sufficiently  developed,  or  finds  the  requisite  occasion  to  apply  them.  There 
is  innate,  also,  the  necessity,  so  soon  as  the  mind  reflects  on  the  relation  of  these  truths  to  the  rest  of  its 
knowledge,  that  it  should  find  in  them  the  foundations  of  or  necessary  assumptions  for  all  that  it  knows. 
Moreover,  as  soon  as  it  considers  itself  as  being  bora  with  a  constitution  which  fits  it  to  know,  it  must 
recognize  the  capacity  for  receiving  these  fundamental  truths  and  for  receiving  them  as  fundamental,  to 
be  born  with  its  being. 

§  531.    4.  From  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas  and  the  school  of  Descartes,  the  transi- 
The     views     of     tion  is  natural  and  direct  to  the  views  held  bv  Locke  and  the  several  divisions  of  his 
Locke    and    bis     school.    These  are  naturally  grouped  together,  though  the  interpretations  of  the  mean- 
ing of  Locke  are  very  diverse,  and  the  several  schools  that  are  named  after  Locke  hold 
opposite  and  incompatible  opinions.    It  will  be  found,  however,  that  they  all  can  bs 
traced  to  Locke,  either  as  they  are  sanctioned  by  his  direct  authority  or  were  derived  from  some  of  his 
principles  by  logical  deduction  or  natural  growth ;  or  as  they  were  devised  to  supplement  some  of  his  sup- 
posed oversights  or  defects.    These  various  schools  also,  in  their  turn,  prepared  the  way  for  the  origination 
and  development  of  the  leading  schools  of  the  later  modern  philosophy. 

Locke,  as  is  well  known,  rejected  the  doctrine  of  innate  ideas  and  protested  most  vigor- 
ously against  it,  in  the  first  book  of  his  Essay.    This  protest  was  of  the  greatest  service 
to  philosophy  in  delivering  it  from  the  vague  and  fantastical  assertions  upon  this  sub- 
ject which  had  been  allowed  before  his  time.    It  has  been  questioned  and  may  be 
doubted,  whether  any  sober  and  considerate  thinker  ever  received  the  doctrine  in  the 
form  and  sense  in  which  Locke  rejected  it.    It  is  certain  that  many  philosophical  writers  have  expressed 
themselves  in  language  which  warranted  the  interpretations  which  Locke  thought  it  necessary  to  refute. 
But  Locke  did  not  guard  himself  against  serious  oversights  in  this  polemic.    He  did  not 
distinguish  between  our  positive  ideas  of  objects  and  acts  in  both  matter  and  spirit — 
were  ung^iSdecL     wbich  niake  up  the  materials  or  facts  of  knowledge— and  the  relations  between  these 
materials,  which,  if  possible,  are  more  important  than  the  facts  which  they  connect. 
Nor  did  he  conceive  at  all  the  difference  between  an  idea  as  acquired  by  experience  and 
as  occasioned  by  experience.    He  did  not  discern  that  a  relation  which  is  developed  in  experience  to  con- 
scious apprehension,  must  be  implied  or  assumed  to  make  experience  possible.    He  did  not  distinguish 
between  innate  ideas  and  innate  dispositions  or  capacities  to  develop  and  assent  to  the  truths  which  in- 
volve original  ideas.    To  correct  these  oversights,  Leibnitz  subjoined  his  well-known  reply  to  the  adage, 
•'  nihil  in  intellectu  quod  non  prius  in  seneu  "— "  nisi  ipse  intellectus." 

Locke  asserts  positively  that  all  our  ideas  are  obtained  through  two  sources,  Sensation 
and  Reflection.  Sensation  gives  the  knowledge  of  sensible  objects  and  their  qualities 
Reflection  P™8  the  knowledge  of  spirit  and  its  operations.  He  was  careful  to  add 
that  except  through  these  two  sources  we  have  no  ideas  whatever.  What  Locke  in- 
tended by  ideas  admits  here  of  a  question  similar  to  that  which  was  noticed  in  connection 
urith  innate  ideas.  Did  he  mean  positively  to  exclude  from  ideas  those  necessary  relations  by  which  the 
mind  connects  all  the  objects  of  matter  and  spirit  which  it  observes  or  experiences?  It  is  probable  that  in 
laying  down  these  leading  positions,  this  distinction  was  not  in  his  mind,  and  that  for  this  reason  he  did 
fcot  provide  against  uncertainty  or  ambiguity  of  interpretation.  It  was  not  unnatural  that  different  con- 


620  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §581. 

*tructions  should  be  put  upon  doctrines  thus  announced,  and  that  according  to  these  diverse  interpreta- 
tions, there  should  spring  up  among  his  followers  different  schools  of  philosophy. 

One  class  of  those  who  called  themselves  his  disciples,  by  greatly  limiting  or  almost 
setting  aside  his  definition  of  reflection,  interpreted  him  as  teaching  that  all  our  posi« 
tive  ideas  are  of  material  obJects,  and  perverted  his  principle  so  as  to  make  him  teach  a 
materialistic  philosophy.  Condillac  thus  applied  his  doctrine,  and  he  derived  from  it 
the  conclusion  that  all  our  ideas,  whether  those  of  sense  or  spirit,  are  simply  trans- 
formed sensations.  "  Locke  distingue  deux  sources  de  nos  idees  :  les  sens  et  la  reflexion.  II  serait  plua 
exact  de  n'en  reconnaitre  qu'une  source,  parce  que  la  reflexion  n'est  dans  son  principe  que  la  sensation  elle- 
meme,  soit  parce  qu'elle  est  moins  la  source  des  ideos  que  le  canal  par  le  quel  elles  d6coulent  des  sens."  — 
TraM  des  Sensations.  This  doctrine,  in  the  form  in  which  it  was  taught  by  Condillac  and  by  others  of 
the  French  school,  was  long  since  abandoned,  but  tendencies  to  the  same  doctrine,  if  not  the  same  opin 
ions  in  respect  to  the  nature  and  origin  of  mental  activities  and  their  products,  retain  their  hold  most 
tenaciously  among  many  modern  psychologists,  such  as  J.  8.  Mill,  and  Alexander  Bain,  with  others. 

Hume  (Treatise  on  Human  Nature.    Part  III.  §§2,  3,  4,  14,  15.    Inquiry  concerning  the 
t  .          Human  Understanding.    §  7.;  applied  the  dictum  of  Locke  in  respect  to  the  sources  of 

6  '        L     knowledge  in  the  analysis  of  the  relation  of  causation,  or  as  he  called  it,  of  the  idea  of 


Cause  and  Effect,  and  of  Necessary  Connexion.  He  first  demonstrated,  as  it  was  easy  to 

do,  that  this  idea  could  not  be  gained  frcni  Sensation.    He  then  inquires  whether  it 

can  be  gained  by  Reflection,  or  the  conscious  experience  which  we  have  of  the  exercise  of  power  in  the 

production  of  effects  by  volition.    To  this  he  answers  in  the  negative,  experience  giving  us  only  the  in- 

variable succession  or  the  constant  conjunction  of  these  internal  ideas. 

How  then,  he  asks,  does  it  happen  that  we  connect  objects  as  causes  and  effects,  and  what  is  the 
meaning  of  the  combination  ?  "We  certainly  do  thus  connect  them,  and  we  give  to  them  as  thus  connected 
the  names  respectively  of  causes  and  effects.  To  his  own  question,  he  replies  :  Objects  which  are  observed 
to  be  always  conjoined,  we  invariably  associate  in  our  minds.  "When  we  observe  the  one  we  cannot  avoid 
thinking  of  the  other.  The  principle  of  association  is  that  which  explains,  and  it  is  the  only  mental  law 
that  explains  the  combination  of  objects  and  events  as  causes  and  effects. 

The  solution  applied  by  Hume,  to  the  single  relation  of  cause  and  effect,  has  since  his 
time  been  applied  to  the  explanation  of  other  of  the  so-called  necessary  truths  or 
tional  School01*"  pri^^tive  cognitions.  Dugald  Stewart  used  it  to  account  for  the  belief  that  every 
visible  or  colored,  i.  e.,  every  object  involves  a  belief  in,  ar.  dan  apprehension  of,  extension. 
•  Dr.  Thomas  Brown  carried  it  still  farther,  applying  it  to  a  great  number  of  relations. 
James  Mill,  in  his  Analysis  of  (lie  Human  Mind,  was  the  first  to  find  in  the  doctrine  of  inseparable  or  in- 
dissoluble associations  a  solvent  for  all  necessary  beliefs  and  original  conceptions.  John  Stuart  Mill,  his 
son,  in  hie  Logic  and.  Examination  of  the  Philosophy  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  has  applied  this  principle 
in  detail  to  all  the  so-called  original  and  necessaiy  truths  with  the  conceptions  which  they  involve.  He 
has  attempted  by  this  single  formula  to  show  that  mathematical  conceptions  and  axioms  are  generalized 
from  experience,  that  the  universal  and  necessary  belief  in  causation  is  to  be  accounted  for  by  experience 
only,  and  results  from  associations  that  cannot  be  overcome  or  separated.  Herbert  Spencer,  while  on  the  one 
hand  he  earnestly  contends  that  the  inconceivability  of  the  opposite  is  the  decisive  test  of  original  truths, 
holds  that  these  very  axioms  are  our  earliest  inductions  from  experience.  Moreover,  he  holds  that  the 
sapacity  of  induction  itself  is  the  result  of  processes  of  association  which  descend  from  one  generation  to 
another,  with  an  augmented  tendency,  till  they  acquire  that  irresistible  force  which  excludes  the  con- 
ceivability  of  their  opposite.  All  these  writers  ir.ay  be  said  to  belong  to  the  school  of  Locke,  but  they  receive 
only  one  or  two  of  his  leading  doctrines  and  interpret  them  in  a  narrow  spirit,  and  apply  them  to 
explain  conceptions  and  beliefs  to  which  Locke  never  thought  of  applying  them. 

Dr.  Thomas  Reid,  with  Hutcheson,  Oswald,  and  Beatrie,  was  aroused  by  the  skeptical 
conclusions  derived  by  Hume  and  Berkeley  from  the  doctrines  of  Locke,  to  combat  hia 
Scottish  ^Behoof  Pr'nciple  as  it  ^ad  till  then  been  interpreted  —  that  all  ideas  are  obtained  from  sensation 
or  reflection—  and  to  assert  for  the  mind  itself  an  independent  power  or  source  of 
knowledge.  This  power  was  called  by  them  Common  Sense,  and  to  it  was  referred  our 
belief  in  the  original  and  fundamental  elements  of  all  knowledge.  Reid  was  especially  earnest  in  assert- 
ing the  necessity  of  first  principles  as  the  foundations  of  knowledge  in  general  and  of  every  special  science 
in  particular.  Of  these  principles  there  is  a  great  variety  —  logical,  grammatical,  mathematical,  moral, 
Ksthetical,  and  metaphysical,  as  well  as  those  facts  given  in  the  experiences  of  sense  and  consciousness 
All  these  are  discerned  by  that  power  which  he  called  common  sense,  or  sometimes  judgment.  The 
nature  and  the  conditions  of  this  faculty  he  did  not  exactly  define,  nor  its  relations  to  other  powers,  the 
laws  of  its  acting,  nor  the  character  and  place  of  its  products.  He  was  content  to  assert  that  there  must  be  ^ 
e«nrce  cf  this  kind  of  knowledge  independent  of  experience,  and  that  these  first  truths  are  to  be  received 
upon  its  authority.  Dugald  Stewart  followed  Reid  in  Insisting  upon  "fundamental  laws  of  Human  Be* 
Kef,"  and  "  original  elements  of  Human  Knowledge."  He  subjected  to  further  analysis  some  of  those 
truths  which  were  assert?  i  by  Reid  to  be  original,  and  allowed  to  the  law  of  association  an  influence  which 
Reid  had  not  i  ^cognized.  Brown  deviated  materially  from  Reid  and  Stewart  in  attaching  gre&lar  im 


§532  THEORIES-    OF   INTUITIVE   KNOWLEDGE.  521 

portance,  in  his  analysis  of  our  conceptions,  to  the  law  of  association.  He  resolved  the  relation  of  tausc 
and  effect  into  that  of  invariable  antecedence  and  succession.  He  occasionally  refers  to  some  origina 
belief  or  tendency  to  belief  as  necessary  to  explain  our  actual  experience.  He  also  distinctly  recognize! 
a  faculty  or  power  called  relative  suggestion,  which  of  itself  originates  or  discerns  certain  original  rela- 
tions ;  making  it,  like  Reid's  judgment,  to  be  itself  the  originator  and  voucher  for  these  original  relation! 
or  categories.  His  system  is  not  always  congruous  or  consistent  with  itself,  inasmuch  as  he  attributes 
greater  authority  at  one  time  to  the  association al,  and  at  another  to  the  intuitional  element. 

In  France,  Royer  Cottard  and  Jouffroy  followed  in  general  the  method  and  the  doctrines 
of  Reid,  With  a  more  analytic  scrutiny  and  a  more  systematic  arrangement  of  the  orig- 
School!^  *"a^  ^:l*a  °^  knowledge.    Each  of  these  writers  made  some  important   improvement! 

upon  the  doctrines  of  their  teachers. 

Maine  de  Biran  followed  out  the  doctrine  of  Locke  in  respect  to  Reflection,  and 
attempted  to  find  in  Reflection  the  source  of  some  important  first  truths.  He  went  further  than  Locke  in 
this  direction  and  borrowed  from  Leibnitz  some  important  modifications  of  Locke's  teachings  in  respect  to 
the  nature  of  force,  and  the  essential  activity  of  the  mind  as  a  discoverer  of  original  and  independent 
truth.  Cousin  sought  to  unite  Reid,  Collard,  and  Kant. 

These  writers  might  perhaps  be  more  properly  grouped  together  as  belonging  to  a  separate  school— 
the  Scottish,  or  the  Scottish  and  French  School.  But  a  more  careful  study  of  the  doctrines  of  Locke  reveals 
the  fact  that  in  the  latter  part  of  the  Essay,  when  he  came  to  analyze  and  account  for  the  ideas  of  rela- 
tion, particularly  of  such  primitive  relations  as  substance,  cause,  and  adaptation,  he  departs  from  the 
doctrines  which  he  was  supposed  to  have  laid  down  in  the  preceding  chapters.  He  certainly  did  not  place 
that  construction  upon  them  which  many  of  his  disciples  imposed  after  his  time.  In  accounting  for  these 
original  ideas,  lie  seems  to  ascribe  them  directly  to  the  intellect  itself,  and  to  an  original  power  to  discern, 
and  an  original  necessity  to  receive  them  as  true.  In  short,  without  asserting,  in  form,  any  new  source 
of  ideas,  ard  without  in  the  least  abandoning  his  previous  teachings — while  in  reply  to  the  objections 
which  were  brought  against  him  for  inconsistency,  he  earnestly  defends  his  own  consistency  with  himself 
— he  does  in  fact  take  the  same  ground  with  Reid  and  the  Scottish  School. 

If  this  is  a  correct  interpretation  of  Locke's  real  opinions,  then  Reid  and  his  disciples  are  properly 
connected  with  the  school  of  Locke,  notwithstanding  their  earnest  polemic  against  some  of  the  doctr'mes 
which  they  supposed  him  to  teach. 

§  532.     5.  From  Hume  and  Reid,  who  were  antagonist  disciples  in  the  school  of  Locke, 
we  pass  to  the  speculations  of  Kant  and  consider  his  views  of  first  principles  and  the 
School and    1"8     cai^<>ries'    Kant,  like  Reid,  was  aroused  by  the  skepticism  of  Hume  to  investigate  the 
foundations  of  knowledge.     He  saw  that  if  the  solution  given  by  Hume  of  the  relation 
of  causation  were  accepted  and  applied  to  others  which  are  as  original  and  fundamen- 
tal, then  sciantific  knowledge  would  be  impossible,  and  religious   faitn  would  be  unsupported  by  any  ra- 
tional foundations.     He  therefore  set  himself  to  the  work  of  examining,  by  critical  analysis,  the  intel- 
lectual powers,  to  ascertain,  if  possible,  whether  knowledge  d  priori  is  necessary,  and  if  so,  what  must  be  ita 
original  elements  and  authority.    The  result  of  his  critical  inquiries  was  as  follows  :  The  human  intellect 
may  be  considered  as  Sense,  Understanding,  and  Reason,  and  to  each   of  these  powers  or  modes  of  action, 
there  are  elements  d  priori.    To  the  Sense,  space  and  time  must  be  assumed  as  d  priori  conditions.    If 
these  are  not  thus  assumed,  neither  perception  nor  consciousness  could  possibly  gain  the  knowledge  ap- 
propriate to  each.    Moreover,  unless  the  knowledge  of  both  space  and  time  is  d  priori,  the  mathematical 
sciences  would  be  impossible. 

The  Understanding  is  the  power  of  generalizing  and  logical  reasoning.  To  this,  certain  forms  of 
conception  are  also  necessary  as  its  d  priori  conditions,  such  as  substance  and  attribute,  and  cause  and  effect. 
Without  these  forms  d  priori,  the  processes  of  the  Understanding  would  be  impossible  and  their  products 
would  be  untrustworthy. 

The  Reason  is  the  power  by  which  we  give  unity  to  our  knowledge  of  both  material  and  spiritual 
phenomena,  as  well  in  the  several  portions  of  each,  as  in  these  portions  as  mutually  connected  and  related 
in  a  universe.  To  this  unifying  process,  there  must  be  assumed,  as  necessary  presuppositions,  certain  ideas 
[i priori,  viz.  :  the  soul,  the  world,  and  God. 

The  d  priori  elements  of  our  knowledge,  according  to  Kant,  are  the  receptivities  of  space  and  time 
for  the  Senses;  the  forms  or  categories  for  the  Understanding;  and  the  ideas  for  the  Reason.  That  these 
elements  are  assumed  and  applied  iu  all  our  higher  knowledge,  was  shown  by  Kant  to  follow  necessarily 
from  the  analysis  of  that  knowledge  which  is  gained  by  the  intellect,  and  indirectly  from  the  analysis  of 
the  operations  of  the  intellect  themselves.  These  were  the  positive  results  of  his  psychological  analysis. 

But  Kant  raised  another  inquiry.  Are  these  d  priori  and  necessary  assumptions  themselves  worthy 
of  confidence  ?  Are  they  true  and  do  they  hold  good  of  the  nature  of  things,  or  do  they  simply  arise  from 
the  constitution  of  the  human  intellect — a  change  in  which  might  involve  a  change  in  these  necessary  rela- 
tions and  in  the  knowledge  which  is  built  upon  them?  To  these  questions  of  his  own  asking,  Kant  maket 
the  following  reply  :  These  assumptions  have  for  man  a  regulative  force,  but  perhaps  only  a  relative  trutt 
y.il  validity.  That  is,  while  man  must  act  in  his  intellectual  processes  under  the  belief  that  these  prin 
tijlos  are  primary  and  universal,  and  thus  admit  them  as  giving  law  to  his  own  intellect,  and  as  groundir 


522  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §533 

and  explaining  all  his  knowledge,  he  is  not  authorized  .nore^y  to  assume  that  they  hold  good  as  the  lawn 
of  minds  which  may  be  supposed  to  be  constituted  differently  from  those  of  human  beings,  or  that  thej 
hold  true  of  the  knowledge  which  such  beings  acquire.  On  the  one  hand,  we  CUL..CI  deny  that  they  dc 
hold  true  for  other  beings  and  their  knowledge  ;  and  on  the  other,  we  cannot  deny  that  they  do  not.  Foi 
aught  that  we  know,  it  may  be  true,  that  other  beings  may  be  *o  constituted  as  not  to  assume  these  prin- 
ciples or  to  know  by  means  of  the  relations  which  they  involve.  We  cannot  affirm  that  there  are  such 
beings.  We  cannot  deny  that  there  may  be.  We  cannot  conceive  how  there  should  be.  We  cannot  imagine 
intellectual  processes  that  do  not  run  back  into  these  relations  and  principles,  nor  can  we  conceive  of  any 
knowledge  which  is  not  held  together  by  these  relations,  but  we  have  no  rational  ground  for  denying 
that  both  are  possible. 

This  is  the  last  result  of  the  critical  examination  to  which  Kant  subjected  the  speculative  Reason. 
These  views  have  had  extensive  currency  among  the  philosophers  of  Germany  and  England,  and  the 
assertion  of  them  has  wrought  like  leaven,  to  stimulate  inquiry  and  to  excite  to  counter  assertions. 
Many  who  would  not  accept  them  have  found  it  difficult  to  show  their  groundlessness  or  their  untruth,  in 
part  or  in  whole.  Many  philosophers  who  have  followed  Kant  in  his  analysis  of  the  foundations  of  oui 
knowledge,  have  felt  themselves  constrained  to  enter  a  special  protest  against  these  views,  or  to  seek  to 
vindicate  the  counter  theory. 

§  533.  The  only  part  of  Kant's  theory  with  which  we  are  here  concerned  is  the 
Criticism  of  SUggestion  which  he  makes,  that  the  relations  and  principles  which  we  find  to  be 
conclusions.  original  and  assume  to  be  true  for  our  own  thinking  and  knowledge,  are  not  necessarily 

true  and  valid  for  the  thinking  and  knowledge  of  others. 
Concerning  this  we  observe  : 

(L)  It  is  a  question  of  Speculative  Philosophy  or  Metaphysics,  and  not  at  all  a  question 
2neurCe0l"ClU?0n  of  Psychology.  Psychologically  considered,  the  views  of  Kant  do  not  differ  materially 
lative.  from  those  of  other  philosophers  in  this,  that  certain  truths  must  be  received  as  uni- 

versal and  necessary,  and  that  these  are  given  to  the  mind  d  priori.  It  is  one  chief 
object  of  his  critique  to  show  that  such  principles  are  not  obtained  by  experience,  but  must  be  assumed  in 
order  to  make  experience  possible,  as  without  them  we  could  have  neither  experience  nor  science.  So  far 
as  the  analysis  of  the  powers,  the  processes,  or  the  products  of  the  human  mind  is  concerned,  Kant  is,  in 
his  general  views,  at  one  with  all  the  best  philosophers. 

That  which  he  subjoins  to  this  ascertained  result  of  psychological  analysis,  is  the  suggestion  that  this 
may  be  true  in  human  psychology  only,  and  not  in  the  psychology  of  other  knowing  beings.  Whatever 
may  be  the  probability  or  reasonableness  of  this  suggestion,  it  is  in  no  sense  a  psychological  fact.  It  ia 
purely  a  philosophical  thesis,  to  be  urged  and  defended  on  speculative  grounds,  but  which  cannot  in  any 
sense  be  ^aid  to  be  given  by  the  analysis  of  the  workings  of  the  souls  of  other  possible  races  or  kinds  of 
beings,  or  of  the  products  which  they  have  evolved. 

(2.)  This  metaphysical  suggestion  or  thesis  is  unsupported  by  any  grounds  of  analogy 
or  probability.  The  facts  which  suggested  the  analysis  are  the  known  changes  in  the 
ol3.iects  of  sense-perception,  which  are  connected  with  known  changes  in  the  organism 
of  the  percipient  or  in  the  medium  by  which  the  percipient  apprehends.  These  changes 
are  most  conspicuous  in  vision.  An  object  seen  through  a  colored  lens,  be  it  red  or 
green  or  blue,  is  seen  to  be  red  or  green  or  blue.  In  like  manner,  the  color  of  objects  is,  to  a  limited  ex- 
tent, affected  by  changes  in  the  physical  condition  of  the  eye.  Some  men,  through  disease,  see  objects 
variously  colored.  Others  are  incapable  of  seeing  any  differences  of  color,  or  at  best,  only  a  few  varieties. 
Upon  analogies  derived  from  these  facts,  Kant  justifies  himself  in  asserting  that  there  may  or  might 
exist  created  or  finite  minds  which  know  objects  without  the  relations  of  time,  space,  substance,  causality, 
or  design.  To  this  it  is  enough  to  reply  that  the  facts  from  which  these  suggestions  are  derived  are  phe- 
nomena of  the  corporeal  organism — while  the  acts  and  objects  to  which  they  are  applied  by  way  of  analogy 
pertain  to  the  pure  intellect.  We  know  moreover  of  the  phenomena  of  the  organism,  that  the  corporeal 
organism  is  a  factor  which,  with  material  conditions,  not  only  presents  the  object  for  the  mind  to  perceive, 
but  makes  it  to  be  what  it  is  to  a  certain  extent,  so  that  the  object  changes  with  its  changing  factors  and 
conditions.  But  to  these  thought  or  intellectual  relations  no  such  conditions  are  required.  Certainly  the 
objects  are  not  known  to  change  with  any  conditions.  So  far  as  these  relations  are  applied  to  material 
beings  it  makes  no  difference  what  the  objects  are.  Many  are  equally  applicable  to  spiritual  beings,  and 
their  phenomena,  products,  and  trustworthiness  cannot  be  weakened  or  set  aside  by  analogies  derived 
from  material  beings  and  phenomena. 

All  positive  ground  for  finding  or  applying  any  analogies  of  too  kind  utterly  fails. 

(3.)  The  suggestion  of  Kant  is  inconsistent  with,  and  overthrown  by,  the  reach  and 
It  is  self -de-  necessary  use  of  some  of  these  very  relations  which  are  brought  into  distrust.  It  ia 
etructive  and  open  to  the  charge  of  being  an  intellectual  felc  de  se.  For  example,  all  the  positive 
suicidal.  ground  for  the  suggestion,  founded  upon  ar.  analogy  which  we  have  shown  to  be  invalid 

because  irrelevant,  rests  upon  one  of  the.e  first  truths  themselves,  one  of  these  very 
original  relations,  which  Kant  subjects  to  metaphysical  doubt,  as  to  whether  it  may  not  be  merely  con- 
tingent upon  the  human  constitution.  We  cannot  but  observe  that  the  question  which  he  raises,  is  whether 


§535 


THEORIES    OF   INTUITIVE   KNOWLEDGE.  523 


knowledge  by  these  relations  as  a  subjective  process,  and  the  relations  themselves  as  an  objective  fact, 
may  not  be  and  probably  is,  an  effect  of  which  the  human  constitution  is  a  cause.  We  notice  also  that  the 
reason  by  which  he  supports  his  suggestion  is,  that  we  are  justified  in  so  interpreting — which  we  have 
shown  is  misinterpreting — certain  signs  or  indications  furnished  by  analogous  phenomena.  In  this  argu- 
ment it  will  be  obvious  to  all  our  readers  who  accept  the  analysis  which  we  have  given  of  induction,  that 
the  assumptions  which  he  contends  are  only  regulative  are  u.«ed  and  applied  by  him  as  though  they  were 
real.  He  certainly  applies  with  entire  confidence,  the  relations  of  cause  and  effect  as  necessarily  and  really 
pertinent  to  the  constitution  of  man  as  viewed  by  all  beings,  and  wholly  omita  to  notice  that  he  has 
already  suggested  that  these  relations  as  necessarily  employed  in  human  thinking,  are  merely  contingent 
upon  the  operation  of  that  thinking,  and  may  not  belong  to  the  constitution  of  the  soul  as  viewed  ot 
Known  by  any  other  being,  whether  creature  or  Creator. 

This  is  not  all.  Not  only  are  they  used  as  though  they  were  real,  but  they  are  used  as  real  in  ordet 
to  prove  that  they  are  only  regulative.  He  reasons  thus  :  Upon  the  validity  of  the  principles  to  which  J 
must  conform  as  the  laws  of  my  human  thinking,  do  I  conclude  that  it  is  more  than  probable  that  they 
are  true  of  human  thinking  only.  That  is,  in  the  very  argumentthat  they  need  apply  only  to  the  processes 
and  objects  of  human  thinking,  he  applies  them  to  both  processes  and  objects  of  thinking  which  are  not 
human.  How  convincing  and  consistent  such  reasoning  is  it  is  easy  to  see. 

5  534.  6.  From  Kant  to  Hamilton  the  transition  is  natural,  because  the  connection  be- 
Hamilton's  Pos-  tween  tneir  views  is  most  intimate.  Hamilton  holds  that  our  native  cognitions  are 
itive  and  Nega-  both  Universal  and  Necessary.  The  Necessity  of  a  cognition  may.  however,  be  of  two 
tive  Necessity.  species.  It  may  be  either  Positive  or  Negative.  It  may  either  result  from  the  power 
of  the  thinking  principle,  or  from  the  powerlessness  of  the  same  to  think  otherwise. 
Of  Positive  Cognitions  he  says  :  "  To  this  class  belong  the  notion  of  existence  and  its  modifications,  the 
principles  of  identity,  contradiction,  and  excluded  middle,  the  intuitions  of  space  and  time."  All  these 
are  discerned  by  the  mind  by  a  necessity  which  positively  pertains  to  the  objects  discerned  and  in  the 
reality  of  which  the  mind  absolutely  confides. 

To  the  other  class  belong  the  relations  of  Substance  and  Phenomena,  and  of  Cause  and  Effect. 
These  are  necessary  through  the  imbecility  of  the  mind  to  conceive  of  existence  in  any  other  way  than 
under  these  relations ;  which  necessity,  however,  is  felt  to  result  from  the  mind's  imbecility  to  think 
otherwise,  and  not  to  represent  a  positive  relation.  This  necessity  is  only  a  special  case  of  the  application 
of  the  more  general  law  of  the  conditioned,  which  in  its  turn  is  described  as  the  necessity  which  constrains 
the  mind  to  think  of  every  object  as  a  medium  between  two  extremes,  each  of  which  are  mutually  con- 
tradictories of  one  another  and  so  both  cannot  be  true,  while  yet  the  mind  must  think  the  object  under 
one  of  the  two. 

The  exposition  and  discussion  of  this  Law  of  the  Conditioned  may  be  deferred  till  we  consider  its 
application  to  the  special  conceptions  and  relations  of  Substance  and  Phenomena,  and  of  Cause  and  Effect. 
It  is  enough  to  say  here,  that  if  it  mean  any  thing,  it  seems  to  be  in  its  principle  the  same  with  the 
doctrine  of  Kant,  that  certain  cognitions  are  necessary  to  the  mind  because  of  its  peculiar  constitution, 
which  would  no  longer  be  so  in  case  this  constitution  were  changed  or  other  than  it  is.  They  are  there- 
fore Regulative  only,  that  is,  they  control  the  actions  of  the  human  mind  and  their  products,  because  we 
cannot  avoid  employing  them,  knowing  all  the  while  that  we  are  obliged  to  do  this  because  we  are  finite. 
They  are  true  relatively,  t*.  e.,  true  only  in  relation  to  our  limited  capacities. 

"We  urge  against  it  substantially  the  same  objections  to  which  the  doctrine  of  Kant  is  liable,  viz. : 
that  we  must  use  these  very  conceptions  which  are  said  to  be  merely  Regulative  and  Relative,  in  the  very 
judgments  which  we  form  of  the  mind  itself  and  its  processes  ;  and  again,  its  tendency  is  skeptical,  like 
that  of  Kant.  It  ought  to  be  regarded  with  distrust  if  for  no  other  reason  than  that  it  introduces  contra- 
diction between  the  decisions  and  dicta  of  the  separate  activities  of  the  intellect. 

§  535.  7.  To  meet,  or  rather,  to  shut  off,  the  difficulties  propounded  by  Kant,  and  in 
The  theory  of  par^  assented  to  by  Hamilton,  Faith  has  been  proposed  as  the  source  of  certain  original 
trasted  with  conceptions  and  primary  beliefs.  Sometimes  feeling,  or  some  act  more  akin  to  the 
knowledge.  emotive  than  to  the  intellectual  powers,  has  been  urged  as  the  originator  and  voucher 

of  the  primary  beliefs,  and  indirectly  of  the  knowledge  which  is  built  upon  them.  This 
faith  or  feeling  has  most  usually  had  for  its  object  or  objects,  the  Absolute  or  the  Infinite,  and  the  Uncon- 
ditioned, rather  than  the  special  conceptions  under  which  finite  objects  are  thought  by  the  mind  and  the 
primary  relations  by  means  of  which  these  objects  are  classified  and  connected.  God,  the  Soul,  Time, 
Space,  Immortality— have  been  usually  the  objects  which  it  is  asserted  are  received  by  this  original  assent 
of  Faith  or  Feeling.  Sometimes  the  moral  relations  have  been  conceived  as  the  direct  object  of  the  soul'a 
apprehension,  together  with  God  and  the  soul.  The  tendency  to  cut  the  knot  which  an  intellectual  analysis 
has  failed  to  untie,  is  most  conspicuous  as  perpetually  reappearing  in  the  whole  history  of  modern  phi- 
losophy. The  need  of  an  ultimate  and  decisive  authority  for  our  confidence  in  the  actings  of  the  soul,  has 
often  prompted  to  a  coup  de  main,  by  which  some  usurping  power,  under  the  fairest  names,  has  seated 
itself  in  the  place  of  rule,  and  the  usurpation  has  been  acquiesced  in  for  the  time  by  the  temporary  peace 
and  order  which  has  followed  in  tne  intellectual  convictions  and  the  received  systems  of  science,  morality, 
and  theology 


524  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §535 

Descartes,  having  vainly  sought  fir  some  criterion  of  truth  whicL  sbjuid  assure  him 
that  his  senses  did  not  deceive  him,  and  that  his  judgments  in  regurd  to  his  spiritua 
operations  might  be  trusted,  found  repose  in  the  veracity  and  benevolence  of  the  Great 
Creator,  of  whose  existence  he  was  assured  by  the  innate  idea  which  attests  both  hi  a 
existence  and  his  perfection.    This  being  given,  the  cognitions  and  inferences  of  the 
Intellectual  faculty  are  to  be  trusted  when  they  are  properly  tested  by  the  criteria  or  norms  which  the 
Creator  himself  has  provided. 

Kant,  after  despairing  to  find  in  the  speculative  Reason  any  warrant  for  trusting  those 
By  Kant  in  bis  necessary  cognitions  which  are  universal  to  all  men  and  assumed  d  priori  as  the  con- 
Practical  Rea-  ditions  of  all  experience  and  all  science,  finds  in  the  categorical  imperative  of  the 
Bon<  Practical  Reason  a  voucher  for  the  law  of  Duty.  Unconditional  faith  in  Duty  is  the 

corner-stone  of  his  system,  the  only  sure  foundation  which  he  can  find  among  the  ruins 
into  which  he  had  disintegrated  the  structures  of  the  merely  speculative  Intellect,  and  upon  which  he  can 
rebuild  the  same  structure  and  make  it  compact  and  safe.  Faith  in  Duty  requires  faith  in  God  to  defend 
and  reward  Duty.  Hence  the  same  Practical  Reason  which  commands  us  categorically  (i.  e.,  uncondition- 
ally and  without  asking  or  finding  reasons  or  grounds)  to  believe  in  Duty,  commands  us  to  believe  there  is 
a  true  and  perfect  God.  But  such  a  God  will  not  deceive  his  creatures.  He  is  the  voucher  that  we  may  trust 
the  speculative  testimony  of  the  Reason  which  he  has  constructed  and  created,  concerning  those  conceptions 
and  relations  which  it  originates  and  requires  ;  and  that  we  may  assign  them  the  place  which  they  take 
and  hold  in  our  knowledge,  not  as  being  merely  d  priori  assumptions  under  which  we  are  obliged  to  think, 
but  as  being  fundamental  truths  which  we  must  accept  as  real.  By  the  Practical  Reason  we  make  these 
forms  of  thought  by  which  we  must  regulate  our  thinking,  to  become  the  representatives  of  those  formi 
of  being  which  control  the  world  of  reality. 

Jacobi  felt  the  difficulties  in  which  Kant  involved  himself  and  the  minds  of  his  gene- 
By  Jacobi  un-  ration,  bat  was  not  content  with  the  solution  which  he  furnished.  He  adopted  another, 
der  various  ti-  similar  in  principle,  indeed,  but  slightly  varied  in  its  applications.  To  the  power  of 
^es-  apprehending  that  which  is  primarily  and  unconditionally  true,  he  gave  the  names,  at 

first  of  Faith,  afterwards  of  Feeling  and  the  Revelation  of  the  Divine,  and  last  of  all, 
of  Reason  Proper.  The  objects  which  this  power  apprehends  are  neither  primarily  nor  exclusively  moral 
relations,  but  the  objects  of  sense  and  consciousness  with  the  relations  which  they  involve,  as  truly  as 
God,  the  Soul,  and  Immortality.  These  are  all  received  by  the  direct  faith  of  the  soul,  and  this  faith  and 
the  truth  of  what  it  receives  is  the  precondition  of  all  analysis,  inference  and  deduction.  In  all  these 
processes  we  simply  distinctly  analyze  and  clearly  explicate  what  is  given  to  faith  im plied!  y  and  as  a  whole. 
Jacobi  simply  asserted  these  principles  as  the  foundation  truths  of  all  knowledge.  He  did  not  show 
how  they  could  be  true  or  why  we  believe  them.  Indeed,  he  despaired  of  any  such  analysis.  He  did  not 
feel  adequate  to  illustrate  them  in  the  detail ;  but  he  rested  in  their  truth. 

Schleiermacher  recognized  feeling — ihefeeli?ig  of  dependence— as  the  ground  and  medium 
Schleiermach-  °^  a'^  *^e  knowledge  of  the  absolute  that  we  can  attain.  But  we  cannot  conceive  of 
er's  feeling  of  God  or  define  our  concepts  of  him.  All  efforts  in  this  direction,  as  well  as  their  results, 
dependence.  are  entirely  inadequate  and  misleading.  So  far  he  is  at  one  with  Jacobi.  With  him 

ho  makes  feeling  or  faith  the  ground  of  our  apprehension  of  the  Infinite  and  Divine. 
In  respect  to  our  knowledge  of  and  faith  in  the  conceptions  that  are  fundamental  to  finite  knowledge— he 
would  be  foremost  to  assert  that  these  are  d  priori  conditions  and  assumptions  of  the  intellect,  and  that 
nature  herself  is  constructed  in  correspondence  with  these  forms  of  human  thought.  "We  have  therefore 
the  amplest  ground  for  trusting  the  processes  that  are  essential  to  our  higher  knowledge  and  the  results  to 
which  they  conduct  us.  The  relations  of  finite  existence,  including  those  of  space  and  of  time,  of 
substance  and  attribute,  of  cause  and  effect,  were  considered  by  Schleiermacher  forms  of  existence,  or  real 
forms  in  contradistinction  to  the  subjective  forms  of  Kant  and  Fichte  and  the  notion  forms  of  Hegel. 
These  are  apprehended  by  the  intellect  directly,  or,  in  the  phraseology  of  his  system,  by  the  intellectual 
function,  to  which,  operating  in  connection  with  the  organic  function,  all  the  forms  of  finite  knowledge  are 
to  be  referred. 

Some  of  the  more  recent  German  philosophers,  as  Ckalybseus,  Reiff,  and  preeminently 
Lotze,  rest  their  confidence  in  the  fundamental  assumptions  of  the  human  intellect,  upon 
etnical  grounds.  The  questions  propounded  by  Kant,  viz.  :  '  Suppose  after  all  that  the 
constitution  of  your  nature  should  itself  not  be  trustworthy  when  it  causes  and  impels 
you  to  think  according  to  these  original  forms  and  fundamental  assumptions  ?  Suppose 
that  there  should  be  no  reality  in  the  relations  or  forms  of  things,  which  seem  to  correspond  to  the 
relations  or  forms  by  which  you  think  1 '  they  answer  thus :  « "We  must  believe  that  nature  is  benevolent  iu 
her  indications  and  therefore  true.  "We  assume  that  goodness  and  veracity  regulate  both  the  objective 
relations  of  the  universe  which  we  study  and  the  subjective  constitution  of  the  intellect  which  interprets 
it.  For  these  reasons  we  rely  upon  the  categories  of  both  thought  and  being,  and  learn  and  think  in 
accordance  with  them,  trusting  the  results  which  we  gain.' 


§538.  THEORIES    UF   INTUITIVE    KNOWLEDGE.  525 

As  Hamilton  (as  we  have  seen),  in  his  views  of  the  extent  and  limits  of  car  knowledge. 
This  theory  followed  both  Kant  and  Schleiermacher,  so  he  borrowed  from  both  the  required  solu- 
sanctioned  by  tion.  While  he  asserts  that  we  cannot  think  the  infinite  and  unconditioned,  because  tA 
Hamilton  also.  think  is  to  limit  and  to  conaition,  he  concedes  that  we  know  the  same.  But  when  asked 
how  ?  he  replies,  by  faith.  "We  must  believe  it  to  be.  The  extremes  of  our  knowledge, 
between  which  we  form  our  concepts — and  out  o  the  relations  of  which  we  form  our  concepts— we  must 
believe  exist  and  are  related  to  one  another.  The  fact  of  their  necessary  existence  we  receive  by  a  direct 
insight,  which  he  calls  both  faith  and  knowledge.  He  borrows  from  Kant  conceptions  that  are  appropriate 
to  the  Practical  Reason — so  far  at  least  as  ethical  distinctions,  moral  liberty  and  a  personal  God  are  con- 
cerned. From  Jacobi  he  adopts  the  term  faith  in  application  to  the  whole  subject  With  the  doctrine  of 
Schleiermaker  the  details  of  his  theory  of  the  Unconditioned  are  closely  allied.  Of.  Hamilton,  Met.  Lee. 
38.  Also,  Appendix  v.  Letter  to  Calderwood. 

That  which  gives  plausibility  to  the  doctrine  that  Faith  or  Feeling  is  the  ultimate 
Reasons  why  it  ground  of  this  kind  of  knowledge  is  that  it  is  not  received  by  any  a.ct  of  conscious 
is  plausible.  assent  to  propositions,  of  which  the  elementary  concepts  are  first  distinctly  apprehended 

apart  and  then  united,  but  the  mind  is  impelled  to  form  separate  concepts  by  means  of 
and  under  certain  general  relations.  The  belief  or  conviction  that  prompts  to  this  ia 
developed  to  the  mind  when  it  reflects  upon  what  it  finds  itself  performing.  Hence  the  act  is  called  faith 
in  opposition  to  and  in  distinction  from  judgment,  the  last  being  supposed  to  involve  analysis  as  well  aa 
combination.  Ethical  and  religious  objects  are  those  which  most  frequently  bring  it  into  exercise,  and 
these  Invariably  excite  more  or  less  feeling.  Hence  the  special  source  of  these  convictions  is  conceived  as 
something  not  intellectual,  and  the  terms  faith  and  feeling  are  applied  to  it.  The  oversight  lies  in  making 
these  terms  to  imply  that  the  act  is  not  intellectual.  •  It  is  preeminently  an  intellectual  act  and  power,  for 
it  conditions  all  the  special  acts  and  cognitions  of  which  the  intellect  is  capable. 

§  536.    8.  The  immediate  successor  of  Kant  was  J.  G.  Fichte,  whose  system  was  pro- 
posed as  a  modification  and  improvement  of  that  which  was  taught  in  the  Critique  of 
J.  G.  Fichte.  the  Pure  Reason.    Fichte  derived  all  knowledge,  the  materials  as  well  as  the  forms,  the 

d  posteriori  and  the  d  priori,  from  the  activity  of  the  Ego.    Every  thing  which  the 
mind  knows,  being  as  well  as  relations,  so  far  as  it  is  known,  is  the  work  of  the  Ego, 
and  evolved  from  its  own  creative  activity. 

So  far  as  the  categories  of  thought  are  concerned,  Fichte  endeavors  to  show  that  each  one  of  them  ia 
necessarily  involved  in  the  several  concrete  creative  acts  by  which  the  Ego  constructs  for  itself  the  known 
universe.  Its  first  act  is  to  afiirm  its  own  being.  But  in  that  it  must  apply  and  evolve  the  law  or  relation 
of  identity,  A=A.  Its  second  act  is  to  affirm  the  non-ego.  But  this  in  like  manner  involves  the  law  of 
contradiction,  (A)  is  not  (non-A).  The  third  is  to  recognize  the  indivisible  Ego  as  opposed  to  a  divisible 
non-Ego.  This  involves  the  reciprocal  activity  of  each  on  the  other,  and  this  implies  the  relation  of 
Causative  efficiency.  The  other  relations  are  all  evolved  in  a  similar  way  by  the  productive  activity  oi 
the  Ego,  together  with  the  non-Ego  which  this  activity  calls  forth.  Time  and  space,  substance  and 
attribute,  reality,  possibility  and  necessity,  etc.,  etc.,  are  all  accounted  for  by  the  creative  activity  of 
the  Ego,  as  it  proceeds  from  the  simpler  to  the  more  complex  processes  and  products  of  human  knowl- 
edge. 

§  537.  9.  Schelling  follows  Fichte — by  the  effort  to  mediate  between  him  and  Kant — so 
Bchel ling's  *ar  as  *°  Prov^e  f°r  a  common  origination  and  relationship  for  the  subjective  and  ob- 
view  of  the  cat-  jective.  His  intellectual  intuition  recognizes  at  first  the  indifference  of  both,  from 
egories.  which  it  develops  in  correspondence  to  one  another  the  forms  of  thought  and  the  forms 

of  being.  The  authority  for  the  categories  in  this  double  application  must  be  in  this 
'ntuition  which  affirms  them  to  be  common  to  the  two.  In  his  later  philosophy,  which  was  modified  to 
avoid  and  displace  the  logical  idealism  of  Hegel,  Schelling  assumes  the  reality  of  concrete  and  actual 
being,  and  teaches  the  mind's  competence  to  originate  and  affirm  necessary  and  original  relations  only  in 
their  application  to  and  by  occasion  of  supposed  concrete  knowledge.  For  this  reason  he  asserted  for 
these  d  priori  relations  and  for  philosophy  itself,  what  he  called  only  a  negative  value. 

§  538.    10.  Hegel  substituted  thought  for  Schelling's  intellectual  intuition,  i.  e.,  that 
mental  activity  which  produces  and  is  concerned  with  the  concept  or  logical  notion  ;  but 
3egure  though?     made  a  fatal  mistake  by  conceiving  that  thought,  viz.,  abstract  thinking  could  be  ex- 
plained independently  of  concrete  knowledge  and  actual  being,  and  that  the  former 
could  explain  the  latter  by  the  relations  of  pure  or  abstract  thought.    He  was  therefore 
compelled,  by  logical  consistency,  to  endeavor  to  evolve  and  explain  every  form  ot  actual  being  by  thfl 
development  or  evolution  of  the  notion  from  within  itself. 

The  categories  or  the  original  and  necessary  relations  of  knowledge,  according  to  Hegel,  are  all  the 
relations  which  are  necessarily  evolved  in  the  process  by  which  simple,  i.  e.,  abstract  being  is  developed 
into  all  the  forms  of  thought  and  existence,  and  through  them  all,  till  the  absolute  is  attained,  i.  e.,  till  the 
process  is  complete  and  with  it  the  cycle  of  the  original  relations  or  categories  which  are  required  for  iti 
at  Mutton. 


626  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  54 1 

5  539.     11.    According   to    Herbart,  some  of  the  categories  are  the  products    of  thi 

action   and  reaction  of  ideas.     They  are  not  the  necessary  laws  or   forms  of  th« 

?heor ^  mind's  knowledge,  bnt  are  the  growth  and  result  of  its  psychological  functions  as  deter- 

mined  by  the  laws  which  govern  the  formation  and  mutual  action  of  the  results  of  the 

impressions  made  upon  the  soul  by  matter,  and  the  soul's  reaction  against  them. 

These  results  are  perceptions  or  representations.    Concepts,  or  general  notions,  arise  only  when  a  numbei 

of  similar  objects  have  been  perceived.    In  their  struggle  for  reappearance  the  differing  elements  crowd  ont 

another  out  of  view,  and  only  those  are  apparent  which,  being  alike,  reinforce  one  another,  and  so  survive 

the  struggle.    The  conceptions  of  Space  and  Time  are  series  of  reproduced  objects,  the  parts  of  which 

are  more  or  less  indistinct,  as  they  stand  related  to  the  here  and  the  now.    A  thing  or  being  and  its 

attributes,  is  either  an  original  whole  analyzed  into  its  constituent  parts,  giving  the  attribute  of  quality, 

or  a  whole  with  its  attendant  series  of  time  and  space  accompaniments  giving  the  attribute  of  quantity. 

The  successful  connection  of  these  attendant  parts  or  accessory  series  is  affirmation — the  unsuccessful  it 

negation — both  these  involve  the  two  forms  of  judgment  or  the  apprehension  of  relations. 

The  relations  of  substance  to  attributes  and  of  cause  and  effect  are  inconsistent  with  the  logical  laws 
of  identity  and  contradiction,  which  are  assumed  by  Herbart  to  be  original  and  independent  laws  of 
thought.  To  remove  these  inconsistencies  is  the  object  of  his  metaphysical  system.  This  he  essays  to  do 
by  u  the  method  of  relations."  It  would  seem  that  the  logical  laws  are  the  only  categories,  properly  con- 
sidered, which  Herbart  accepts,  for  the  reason  that  these  logical  criteria  are  applied  by  him  as  the  fixed 
rules  and  original  measures  by  which  every  other  relation  is  tried  and  tested. 

§  540.  12.  Trendelenburg  has  not  only  subjected  the  doctrines  of  Hegel  and  Herbart  to 
Trendelen-  an  acute  and  comprehensive  criticism,  and  in  so  doing  has  vindicated  that  realism 
burg's  theory  of  which  is  equally  essential  to  the  common  sense  of  every-day  life  aud  the  scientific  confi- 
motion.  dence  of  the  inductive  schools,  but  he  has  given  special  prominence  to  the  importance 

of  final  cause  in  its  relations  to  the  sciences  of  nature,  as  well  as  to  metaphysical  and  ethi- 
cal truth.  He  has  been  equally  successful  in  criticising  the  speculations  of  such,  as  derive  the  catego- 
ries from  the  necessary  and  independent  relations  of  pure  thinking,  and  the  dogmas  of  those  who  find 
their  origin  in  the  empirical  processes  of  psychological  experience  or  the  formalistic  dicta  of  an  irrespon- 
sible logic.  But  most  of  all  has  he  been  distinguished  for  the  ingenious  and  able  derivation  of  the  cate- 
gories of  thought  and  being,  of  spirit  and  matter,  of  space  and  time,  from  that  universal  and  all-pervading 
motion  which  is  common  to  all.  Those  who  hesitate  to  accept  his  dogma  in  every  application  which  he 
makes  of  it,  will  not  question  that  he  has  at  least  made  good  the  thesis  that  physical  motion  and  its  mental 
analogon  furnish  the  ultimate  elements  that  are  employed  in  the  constructions  of  the  creative  imagina- 
tion and  of  synthetic  thought ;  that  motion  contributes  the  material  by  which  mathematical  creations  and 
metaphysical  definitions  can  be  represented  in  language  and  enshrined  in  those  definitions  and  propositions 
by  which  they  are  the  permanent  possessions  of  the  race. 


CHAPTER   IIL 

FORMAL   RELATIONS    OR   CATEGORIES. 

FOLLOWING  the  classification  of  categories  or  intuitions  which  we  have  adopted  and  explained 
(§  524),  we  begin  with  those  which  we  have  defined  as  formal.  These  are  so-called 
because  they  are  involved  in  every  form  of  knowledge :  they  are  essential  to  its  very 
form,  and  are  therefore  called  formal.  Whatever  may  be  the  mode  of  an  act  of  knowl- 
edge subjectively  viewed,  or  whatever  may  be  that  with  which  it  is  occupied  when 
objectively  considered,  it  must  involve  these  relations  in  its  very  nature  and  essence 
They  are  not  the  less  real  than  the  other  relations,  but  they  do  not  require  real  objects  in 
order  that  they  should  exist.  A  represented  image,  a  mathematical  construction,  and  a 
tho1  ghteoncept  not  only  admit  but  require  them,  and  they  are  common  and  essential  to 
them  all. 

§  541.    The  intuition  with  which  we  begin  is  the  intuition  of 

£ng?tegory  °f    being.     This  will  be  readily  acknowledged  to  be  the  most 

extensive  of  all  in  its  application,  and  therefore  fundamental 


§  542.  FORMAL    RELATIONS    OK   CATEGORIES.  52\ 

to  all  others.  Every  thing  which  we  know,  we  know  to  exist  To  know 
is  impossible  and  inconceivable,  if  it  does  not  involve  the  certainty  that 
that  which  is  known,  exists  or  is.  Being  is  the  correlate  of  knowledge. 

Hence,  this  concept  is  apparently  fundamental  to  all  others. 
toitenta]?me  ft  belongs  to  every  object  with  which  the  mind  has  to  do  in 

knowledge,  and  it  belongs  to  each  with  equal  propriety — tc 
Him  whom  we  call,  in  the  poverty  of  our  languages,  the  Being  of  beings, 
and  to  the  most  transient  and  trivial  creation  of  the  humblest  of  his 
creatures ;  to  the  universe  in  the  most  comprehensive  meaning  of  the  term, 
and  to  the  mathematical  point  which  is  the  product  of  the  thought  of  a 
moment.  It  is  applied  to  actual  existences,  to  intellectual  creations,  whether 
individual  or  universal ;  to  all  things  and  to  all  thoughts. 

The  beings  that  are  known  are  of  different  sorts,  and  they  are  known  by 

Beings  of  differ-     different  modes  of  apprehension.      There  are  beings  spiritual,    and  beings 

material.     In  each  of  these  classes  there  are  beings  which  remain  for  ages, 

and  those  which  exist  only  for  an  instant.     But  the  difference  in  the  kind 

and  the  endurance  of  that  which  M,  does  not  make  the  object  any  the  less  to  exist.     Being  as 

properly  belongs  to  the  one  as  to  the  other. 

"We  sometimes  dignify  the  being  which  is  independent  and  permanent  with  the  assertion  that  this  only 
or  truly  has  being,  or  only  and  truly  is  ;  but  this  is  by  a  metaphor  only,  and  does  not  in  the  least  affect  the 
proper  import  of  the  term  or  of  the  concept  for  which  it  stands.  The  positive  existence  of  the  object,  but 
neither  its  dignity  nor  its  duration,  is  expressed  by  the  word. 

The  nature  and  import  of  being  is  not  at  all  affected  by  the  manner  in  which 

?ein£.3  •    j?£re~     it  is  apprehended  or  known  to  exist.     Some  being  is  known  by  direct  sense- 

bended  in  differ-  J 

ent  ways.  perception   or   immediate   consciousness ;    in    other  words,  by   presentative 

knowledge.  Other  being  is  known  by  indirect  or  representative  knowledge, 
as  the  moon  that  is  pictured  by  the  mind,  or  that  is  generalized  as  a  concept.  In  represented 
being,  it  is  presented  beiag  which  is  recalled  or  generalized.  The  being  which  is  directly 
known  as  actually  knowable  or  as  possibly  existing  is  always  supposed  or  implied  as  giving 
interest  and  import  to  that  which  is  recalled.  The  moon  which  we  picture,  is  pictured  as  an 
actually  existing  moon.  The  scene  which  we  remember  or  imagine,  is  remembered  or  im- 
agined as  an  actually  occurring  scene.  Even  the  mathematical  entity  which  we  construct, 
or  the  general  concept  which  we  frame,  must  be  carried  back  to  some  concrete  being  or 
beings  to  be  interpreted  and  understood. 

8  542.    It  is    the    most    abstract  of   all    possible   concepts. 

The    most    ab-  ,     .  ,  .   ,  ,  _ 

etract  of  all  the  After  every  property  or  relation  which  we  know  of  an 
object  is  set  aside  from  any  existing  thought  or  thing,  there 
remains  the  affirmation  it  is.  This  cannot  be  thought  away.  For  this 
reason  it  is  logically  the  first  or  the  most  elementary  of  all  concepts.  As 
it  is  the  last  which  we  reach  by  analysis^  it  is  the  first  with  which  our 
synthesis  begins. 

Concrete  or  presented  being,  gives  all  its  meaning  to  abstract  or  represented 
Explained  by  being.  The  mind  interprets  generalized  being  by  its  previously  experienced 
concrete  being.  Qr  jtg  tacjtiy  assumed  knowledge  of  presented  being.  Hegel  begins  the 

development  and  explanation  of  our  real  knowledge  with  the  concept  of  being 
io  the  abstract,  and  seeks  to  construct  and  develop  from  this  the  conceptior  s  and  knowledge 


528  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §544 

of  real  existence,  and  the  relations  which  it  involves.  In  doing  this,  he  is  obliged  to  interpret 
his  meaning  by  a  tacit  assumption  of  that  which  he  formally  ignores  and  denies — i.  e.,  to  draw 
upon  direct  and  presented  knowledge  for  the  interpretation  of  the  conceptions  and  relations 
which  he  professes  to  develop  and  account  for.  The  attempt  is  vain ;  the  method  is  false 
the  problem  is  impossible.  There  is  no  knowledge  of  being,  or  of  the  relations  of  being  it 
general  or  in  the  abstract,  except  by  means  of  knowledge  in  the  concrete. 

Psychologically,  the  knowledge  of  being  in  the  concrete  precedes  that  of 

beinS  in  the  abstract.  We  know  individual  beings  before  we  know  being  ae 
first  apprehend-  a  concept.  We  perceive  individual  things  by  sense ;  we  are  conscious  of 

our  individual  ego  and  its  individual  states  ;  we  remember  and  imagine  these 
and  other  individual  entities  long  before  we  comprehend  them  or  any  group  of  them  as  under 
the  general  concept  being.  Even  if  it  be  conceded  that,  to  the  infant  perception,  the  material 
universe  presents  itself  as  one  undistinguished  and  undivided  being,  it  would  be  known  as  an 
individual ;  the  one  universe  and  not  as  generalized. 

Logically,  or,  more  properly,  metaphysically,  the  concept  being  is  the  first 
Logically,  it  jg  and  most  fundamental  of  all  the  concepts,  because  it  is  the  most  extensively 
fundamental.  applied,  and  is  the  highest  of  our  generalizations  (§  523).  But  it  cannot  be 

understood  as  a  concept,  except  by  our  knowledge  of  individual  objects.  To 
begin  with  the  concept  in  the  abstract,  excluding  that  knowledge  which  interprets  and  makes  it 
clear,  is  literally  to  begin  with  nothing.  To  attempt  to  develop  from  it  actual  being,  is  to 
give  an  example  by  failure,  of  the  truth,  ex  nihilo  nihil  fit  I 

The  apprehen-  §  543-  The  knowledge  of  being  is  expressed  by  judgments 
prSsed^pfopo-  or  propositions,  the  subjects  of  which  are  whatever  is  known 
by  any  single  acts  of  the  intellect.  We  tacitly  assert  or 
think  of  every  such  object  it  or  this,  is  or  exists.  We  afterward  general- 
ize that  which  is  predicated  under  the  concept — being. 

Being  or  existence  is  not,  however,  an  attribute  or  a  relation,  though  it  is 

Being  not  a  re-     conceived  or  treated  as  such  when  it  is  thus  generalized.     It  is  obvious  that 
lation   or   attri- 
bute, being  must  be    assumed    in  order  that    an  attribute  or    relation    may  be 

known.  Relations  without  beings  related,  or  the  knowledge  of  relations  or 
attributes  without  the  knowledge  of  beings  to  which  these  relations  or  attributes  belong,  are 
impossible  and  inconceivable.  When  being  is  generalized,  however,  it  is  treated  as  a  property 
or  attribute  of  each  concrete  existence  of  which  it  is  affirmed.  We  say  and  think  this  or  that 
has  being  or  existence.  We  say  it  is  an  existing  thing.  We  even  turn  it  into  an 
abstractum,  as  we  do  other  properties  and  relations,  and  speak  of  beingness  or  entity.  Yet 
the  incongruity  of  the  language  and  of  the  conception  is  apparent  when  we  undertake  to  carry 
it  out  by  affirming  entity  or  beingness  of  an  object. 

§  544.  Like  every  intuition,  being  cannot  be  defined — i.  e^ 
ru»nnot  be  de-  analyzed  or  resolved  into  any  more  elementary  constituents. 

It  can  be  described,  however,  by  means  of  the  conditions  or 
circumstances  under  which  it  is  present  to  the  mind.  When  we  ask, 
What  is  being  ?  we  cannot  answer  in  the  way  of  definition.  But  we  can 
say,  whenever  we  know  we  apprehend  being.  In  every  act  of  knowledge 
is  involved  assent  to,  or  certainty  of  being.  By  knowing  we  are  in  a 
situation  to  understand,  though  we  cannot  define,  the  import  of  the  con 
rapt. 


§545.  FORMAL   RELATIONS    OR   CATEGORIES.  529 

The  act  of  knowing  is  supposed  to  be  more  familiar  than  the  concepts  which  it  implies. 
We  exercise  this  activity  more  frequently  and  more  readily  than  we  reflectively  analyze  ks 
known  objects.  For  this  reason  we  explain  the  concept  being  by  the  act  which  implies  and 
contains  it.  When  we  closely  consider  what  to  know  involves,  we  find  that  the  apprehension 
of  being  must  always  be  implied  in  the  act  of  knowledge. 

It  was  said  (§  390)  that  all  concepts  are  founded  on  attributes  or  relations 

[t   is  conceived    generalized,  and  that  the  only  difference  between  nouns  and  adjectives  arises 
and  spoken  of  as     „          ...  .    .  .  .    . 

an  attribute.          from  their  use  and  not  their  meaning ;  the  same  content  being  present  tn 

every  case — a  content  of  attributes  only.  How,  then,  it  might  be  urged,  is  it 
possible  that  there  should  be  any  concept  of  being  at  all  if  being  is  not  only  not  an  attribute, 
but  is  the  direct  contrast  of  an  attribute  and  must  be  supposed  to  make  an  attribute  conceivable 
or  possible  ?  This  inquiry  has  in  part  been  answered.  In  order  to  be  turned  into  a  concept, 
being  is  treated  as  an  attribute ;  it  is  predicated  of  the  individuals  to  which  it  belongs  as 
though  it  were  a  predicable.  Th<i  attempt  is  made  to  define — i.  e.,  to  describe  it  by  its 
relation  to  the  act  of  knowledge,  or  the  activity  of  the  knowing  agent.  The  word  being,  in 
its  etymology,  is  also  taken  from  some  one  of  the  attributes  of  those  existences  which  are 
the  most  permanent — which  existences  or  entities  are  conceived  as  having  the  best  right  or 
claim  to  be  so  used,  as  to  stand,  etc.,  etc.  • 


8  545.    Simple  beine:  is  a  concept  wholly  indeterminate.     It 

A  wholly  inde-     '  .  °  ,  ... 

terminate  con-  stands  for  itself  and  for  nothing  besides.  Being  elementary 
and  logically  original,  it  can  be  resolved  into  no  other,  and, 
of  course,  can  be  defined  by  no  other.  It  is  supposed  in  every  other.  It 
must  be  assumed  to  determine  every  other.  We  must  begin  with  being, 
before  we  can  add  a  single  characteristic  to  make  it  a  concept  more  definite. 

This  is  what  Hegel  had  in  mind  in  his  assertion  :  Being  or  entity  is  equal  to 
Hegel  makes  be-  nothing.  It  is  equivalent  to  a  notion  without  content.  As  an  abstract  con,, 
nothing.  ception,  it  has  no  relations  to  any  other  concept,  and  consequently  no  attri- 

butes ;  it  is  wholly  undefined.  By  viewing  it  as  abstracted  from  all  concrete 
import,  it  has  no  content  at  all ;  it  means  nothing  ;  all  its  meaning  must  lie  in  its  relation  to 
some  other  concept,  and  until  it  is  viewed  in  such  a  relation  it  has  no  positive  import  at  all. 
That  Hegel  was  wrong  in  this  assertion,  will  be  shown  in  its  place.  We  notice  here  only  what 
he  must  have  had  in  mind. 

Being,  the  undeterminnte,  immediate  object  of  knowledge,  is  \~  iasit  nothing,  no  more  nor  less. 
Nothing  is  [has]  the  same  determination,  or  rather,  nbsciice  of  determination  with,  and,  for  that  reason, 
is  equivalent  to  simple  entity.  Logic,  vol.  i.  p.  22.  Encyc.,  p.  101. 

The  common  sense  of  man  which  resists  the  doctrine  that  being  and  nothing  are  identical,  and  ap- 
peals to  some  object  of  experience  immediately  present,  finds  in  this  very  object  some  determinate  being 
that  Is  being  with  a  negation,  i.  e.,  the  very  unity  which  it  rejects,  Log.  vol.  i.  p.  30.  Encyc.,  p.  406. 

But  though  being,  as  a  concept,  and  in  its  relation  to  other  concepts,  is 

N"ot  without    indeterminate,  it  is  not  without  signification.     It  is  taken  from  and  affirmed 

of  and  interpreted  by,  individual  beings  which  we  actually  know  by  direct 

knowledge.     The  formation  and  use  of  this  concept  presupposes  and  rests 

upon  this  knowledge.     Though  abstract  being,  as  a  concept,  is  elementary,  undefined,,  and  equal 

to  non-entity,  yet,  as  related  to  individual  beings,  it  signifies  something  positive,  and,  indeed, 

many  positive  somethings.     Though  being  denotes  no  particular  thing,  it  does  not  denote 

a  thing  actually  not  existing — non-entity — but  is  equally  applicable  to  every  positive — t.  «.  to 

all  entities  whatsoever. 

34 


530  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  g  547 

§  546.    Keferring  to  our  analysis  of  the  act  of  knowing,  we 
p'        find  tnat  it  involves  the  discernment  of  relations  as  truly  and 

as  essentially  as  it  does  the  apprehension  of  being.  This 
introduces  to  us  relationship  in  its  widest  acceptation.  But  relationship 
involves  diversity  and  distinguishability  in  the  concept  produced,  and 
negation  or  distinction  as  the  judgment  or  proposition  by  which  it  is 
discerned  and  affirmed. 

Two  entities — i.  e.,  objects  apprehended — are  essential  to  the  apprehen- 
sion of  a  connecting  relation.  But  if  the  two  are  known,  they  must  be 
distinguished — i.  e.,  known  as  different  from  each  other,  in  order  that 
they  may  be  again  connected.  The  knowledge  of  objects,  as  different  or 
diverse,  must  always  be  present  with  the  apprehension  of  any  other  rela- 
tion, 

It  follows  that  the  relation  which  is  the  most  extensive  of  all 
moIt^xtJnsiv^6  others,  is  the  relation  (*f  diversity  or  difference.  It  is  always 

present  with  every  other.  It  may  not  always  be  distinctly 
recognized,  but  it  is  always  recognizable  in  every  positive  relation,  whether 
formal,  mathematical,  or  real. 

The  same  truth  is  asserted  in  the  proposition,  that  every  act  of  knowledge  is  at  once  an 
act  of  analysis  and  of  synthesis.  In  every  single  act  of  knowledge  we  separate — i.  e.,  dis- 
tinguish— in  order  that  we  may  combine.  We  can  only  unite  so  far  as  we  separate. 

This  truth  is  confirmed,  if  we  refer  to  various  kinds  or  species  of  knowledge.  In  each 
Present  in  all  °^  *nese  we  distinguish  as  we  unite.  In  sense-perception  we  distinguish  colors,  sounds, 
forms  of  knowl-  tastes,  feels,  and  gather  them  into  one  object.  In  consciousness  we  distinguish  the 
e^Ke.  actor  from  the  act,  and  both  from  the  object,  and  unite  them  somehow  in  a  single  men- 

tal experience.  Certainly  we  place  them  together  in  a  single  undivided  instant  of  time. 
In  memory  and  generalizing,  in  deduction  and  induction,  we  unite  what  we  have  already  distinguished, 
or  what  we  distinguish  in  the  act  of  uniting. 

We  repeat  what  has  been  already  laid  down,  that  entities,  in  order  to  be  distinguished,  need  not 
exist  apart,  i.  e.,  not  in  the  common  sense  of  the  term  to  exist.  The  angles  and  sides  of  a  triangle  can- 
not exist  nor  be  constructed  apart  from  each  other,  and  yet  they  can  be  most  readily  distinguished, 
The  moon  which  I  picture  in  the  mind  cannot  exist  except  by  the  act  of  the  mind  which  imagines  it, 
the  attribute  cannot  exist  apart  from  the  substance  to  which  it  belongs,  the  cause  cannot  act  as  a  causo 
without  passing  into  the  effect ;  but  all  these  are  readily  distinguished  the  one  from  the  other. 

Our  analysis  of  Being,  i.  e.,  of  Being  as  a  concept  or  Being  in  general,  has  compelled  us  to  recog- 
nize also  Being  in  the  concrete,  or  individual  Being,  and  the  one  as  related  to  the  other,  the  one  as  sup- 
posing the  other,  and  the  one  as  explaining  the  other.  In  this  explanation  two  relations  are  supposed, 
those  of  diversity  and  of  similarity.  If  there  is  more  than  one  concrete  Being,  one  is  diverse  from  the  other. 
If  both  are  alike  Beings,  i.  e.,  are  comprehended  under  the  concept  Being,  they  must  be  alike  at  least  in  that 
they  are  both  knowable.  In  brief,  diversity  and  similarity  are  everywhere  present. 

§  547.  We  return  to  diversity  and  negation.  The  relation 
propo?itiodn  m  *  °f  difference  or  diversity  is  expressed  by  the  proposition, 

this  being  is  not  that.  A  is  not  B,  or  B  is  not  A  ;  the  color 
is  not  the  taste,  the  taste  is  not  the  color ;  the  pictured  moon  is  not  the 
mind,  the  mind  is  not  the  moon  which  it  pictures.  I  am  not  the  object 
seen  or  tasted,  etc.,  etc.  It  does  not  signify  with  which  of  the  objects  we 
begin — which  of  the  two  we  treat  as  the  subject,  and  which  as  the  predi- 
cate of  the  proposition. 


§547.  FORMAL   RELATIONS    OR   CATEGORIES.  531 

The  act  of  mind  which  we  express  by  the  proposition,  is  called  an 
act  of  denial  or  negation;  i.  e.,  when  the  relation  of  difference  is  expressed 
in  the  form  of  a  proposition,  the  act  is  an  act  of  negation.  The  natural 
form  of  a  positive  judgment  is  also  the  proposition,  which  is  of  course 
affirmative. 

It  will  be  remembered  that  these  propositions  are  all  individual  propo- 
sitions, and  that  none  of  them  are  or  can  be  general.  The  individual  goes 
before  the  general  in  these  propositions  of  relation,  as  in  all  others. 

From  the  recognition  and  affirmation  of  relations  are  evolved 

Relative  no-  °  . 

tions.  Negative    what   are   called   relative    concepts   or   notions.     .From    the 

notions.  .  ..  •,  •   •,  i      •  t»    f  • 

negative  propositions  which  express  the  relation  ot  diversity 
are  produced  what  are  termed  negative  concepts. 

No  sooner  is  A  distinguished  from  B,  than  we  can  apply  to  it  the 
negative  notion  of  not-JB.  In  the  same  way  reciprocally,  the  negative 
notion  not-A  can  be  affirmed  of  B.  These  notions  are  purely  relative. 
The  whole  content  or  import  which  they  express,  is  limited  to  the  single 
relation  in  which  they  stand  to  the  other  object,  which  other  object,  A  or 
B,  as  the  case  may  be,  is  supposed  to  be  positively  known. 

In  like  manner,  other  relative  notions  may  be  formed,  as  if  we  take  a  substance  and  it 
puts  us  to  sleep,  we  conceive  the  unknown  something  which  produces  this  effect  as  sle*p- 
making  ;  that  is,  we  need  know  it  no  further  than  by  its  relation  to  this  effect.  The  only 
notion  which  we  have  of  it  may  be  purely  relative  to  the  known  effect. 

The  negative  relation,  as  indeed  any  relative  notion,  is  at  first  apprehended  as 
At  first  individ-  individual,  and  then  generalized.  No  sooner  is  A  pronounced  to  be  not-B, 
generalizedT™  '  than  we  proceed  to  apply  this  to  C,  D,  E,  F,  etc.,  as  well  as  to  A— indeed,  to 
all  objects  except  B  itself.  We  need  know  nothing  more  of  them  than  that 
they  are,  to  be  justified  in  classing  them  all  as  not-Bs,  or  in  affirming  of  them  the  negative 
concept  thus  generalized.  This  is  the  ground  of  the  division  of  all  real  and  conceivable  things 
by  dichotomy,  as  it  is  called. 

It  will  be  observed,  however,  that  negation  expresses  a  relation  between  two  actual 
beings,  or  two  beings  treated  or  conceived  as  real.  It  supposes  two  positives  known  or 
conceived,  each  of  which  is  thought  as  related  negatively  to  the  other. 

But  after  the  relation  of  diversity  has  been  acquired  by  or  developed  to  the  mind,  it  is 
possible  to  attach  it  to  any  single  notion  positively  known,  without  cognizing  any  object  which 
it  designates.  For  example:  To  any  notion  as  chalk,  marble,  white,  merciful,  financial, 
spiritual,  the  negative  particle  may  be  attached,  indicating  some  reality  or  realities  diverse 
from  this  positive;  as  the  negatively  relative  notion,  not-chalk,  not-marble,  not-white,  not- 
merciful,  uot-financial,  not-spiritual.  The  concept,  in  its  import,  includes  only  diversity  from 
the  several  positives  known.  But  it  implies  that  there  are  or  may  be  other  positives  which 
belong  under  it  or  to  its  extent.  It  is  sometimes  said  that  the  mind  can  form  a  positive  notion 
of  a  negative  object.  A  closer  inspection  will  show  that  a  positive  notion  of  a  negative  object 
or  of  a  pure  negation,  is  impossible.  A  negative  object  or  negative  term  indicates  only  some 
real  or  possible  object  or  objects  in  a  negative  relation. 

We  can,  indeed,  form  a  negative  notion  of  every  object  positively  known,  by  attaching 
to  it  a  negative  particle ;  but  we  do  this  on  the  supposition  that  it  represents  some  positive 
objects  that  are  knowable  because  they  are  real. 


582  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  5-47. 

The  concept  nothing — nonentity,  is  a  purely  relative  concept.  All  beings  OJ 
The  concept  entitiesi  whether  real  or  imaginary,  are  grouped  under  the  most  general  ot 
nothing.  aii  concepts.  To  this  is  attached  the  relation  of  negation.  What  is  express- 

ed, is  the  proposition  that  the  concept  is  exhaustive,  and  that  it  is  impossible 
to  conceive  or  believe  in  any  thing  beside,  i.  e.,  should  the  mind  attempt  to  form  a  concept  of  any 
object  not  included  under  being,  it  would  not  succeed :  there  is  not  an  object  to  which  the  con- 
cept could  be  applied :  there  is  not  a  thing,  not  a  being,  not  an  entity  besides.  By  a  fiction 
of  speech  and  of  imagination,  this  proposition  is  contracted  into  the  concept  nothing — nonentity 
— as  though  there  were  a  really  existing  object  negatively  related  to  being. 

When  Hegel  asserts  that  the  concept  being  or  entity  equals  nothing  in  its 
Hegel's  view  of  imPorti  ne  has  m  mind  tnat  Jt  is  a  concept  which  cannot  be  analyzed  into  any 
nothing.  constituent  concept  or  thought-element :  it  is  therefore  unrelated  to  any 

other ;  it  is  undetermined :  it  has  no  notional  or  conceptual  import.  So  far 
from  being  true  that  this  concept  has  no  import,  no  concept  has  an  import  so  extensive.  Its 
import  is  found  in  the  various  forms  of  direct  knowledge,  which  give  the  material  and  meaning 
to  every  concept,  and  a  reference  to  which  is  supposed  every  time  the  concept  being  is  used. 

The  nothing  or  nonentity  hy  which  Hegel  seeks  in  a  sense  to  define  the  concept  Being  or  Entity,  is 
simply  the  concept  itself  viewed  in  its  relation  to  every  other  concept,  and  also  to  every  object  of  direct 
and  individual  knowledge.  It  is  simply  the  proposition  contracted  into  a  concept,  that  being  or  entity,  is 
the  most  general  of  all  concepts,  and  cannot  be  analyzed  into,  or  resolved  by  any  concept  more  general  than 
itself;  or  the  proposition  that  abstract  or  generalized  being  must  not  be  confounded  with  concrete  or  indi- 
vidual being, — being  in  the  second  intention  is  not  being  in  the  first  intention  ;  or  it  maybe  it  is  both  these 
propositions  united  into  one. 

The  error  of  Hegel  lies  in  attempting  to  begin  the  analysis  and  development  of  knowl- 
The  error  of  edge  nnd  of  thought  even,  with  thought  itself  or  mediate  knowledge,  instead  of  begin- 
Hegel.  ning  with  knowledge  that  is  immediate,  as  the  order  of  natural  production  and  ol 

psychological  acquisition  would  direct.  This  error  involves  the  fiction  of  a  possible  de- 
velopment of  both  thought  and  existence  from  thought  or  mediate  knowledge  only,  of  an  evolution  of  all 
being,  and  all  forms  of  being  from  the  mere  formal  concept  of  being  in  general,  which  by  the  very  definition 
is  confessed  to  be  empty  or  void,  i.  e.,  mere  nonentity.  It  involves  the  still  more  obvious  fiction  of  a  per- 
petual 'becoming  or  self-evolution  of  concept  from  concept,  which  is  conceived  to  arise  from, or  to  be  equiva- 
lent to,  or  explained  as,  the  vibration  between  being  and  nothing,  and  nothing  and  being ;  all  the  meaning 
or  reality  of  which  must  come  from  that  for  which  it  is  dexterously  substituted,  i.  e.  from  the  real  operations, 
forces  and  motions  of  the  actual  universe.  That  there  can  be  no  evolution  of  one  notion  from  another  has 
already  been  shown,  §  523.  The  original  intuitions  and  relations  out  of  which  concepts  are  generalized,  dif- 
fer from  one  another  really  m  their  greater  or  less  extent  of  application  to  objects,  not  at  all  in  the  relations 
of  content  or  import.  The  content  of  one  is  conceived  to  be  developed  from  the  content  of  another  because, 
when  arranged  in  the  gradations  of  a  logical  system,  being  stands  highest  or  most  general  of  all,  and  cer« 
tain  other  concepts  stand  lower,  and  others  lower.  Hence  it  is  conceived  that  the  notions  arranged  below 
those  which  are  higher,  are  in  fact  developed  from  them  by  an  independent  movement  of  self-evolution  be- 
longing to  the  more  general  concept  as  such. 

In  other  words,  because  the  concept  being  is  the  summum  genus  among  concepts,  it  is  taken 
to  be  the  originator  of  all  other  concepts.  Not  only  so,  it  is  held,  by  the  same  law  of  self- 
evolution,  to  be  the  originator  of  things  or  actual  beings.  The  failure  of  the  attempt,  and  the 
absurdity  of  the  theory  on  which  it  rests  is  manifest  when  the  effort  is  made  to  cross  over 
from  the  notion  world  to  the  real  world  ;  when  the  effort  is  essayed  to  evolve  time  and  space, 
matter  and  spirit  from  concepts  only  The  effort  seems  to  be  successful  only  because  the  real 
world  with  its  relations  is  ever  ready  at  hand  behind  the  concept  world  which  symbolizes  it, 
to  furnish  the  signification  which  is  required.  Real  being,  and  real  relations  are  very  easily 
confounded  with  the  generalized  concepts  of  the  same.  The  two  are  easily  interchanged,  and 
it  is  by  a  kind  of  intellectual  juggling  or  sleight-of-hand  that  any  success  appears  to  be 
attained,  or  any  conviction  is  produced. 

The  History  of  Philosophy  records  two  theories  similar  to  that  of  Hegel,  both,  like  his, 
Xenophanea  and  being  founded  upon  the  confusion  of  abstract  or  notional  entity  with  the  concrete  or 
SpinoBa.  individual  being  and  its  relations  which  it  symbolizes.  They  were  the  theories  of  the 

schools  of  Xenophanes  and  Spinoza.    Both  these  philosophers  reasoned  that  because  the 


§548.  FOKMAL   RELATIONS    OE   CATEGOKIES.  533 

concept  Being  was  equally  applicable  to  all  actual  beings,  therefore  there  was  but  one  being  actually  exist- 
ing,  and  that  was  the  sum  total  of  all  beings,  the  rb  ev  KOI  irav.  In  the  case  of  the  first  school,  the  specul* 
tions  were  vaguely  conceived  and  crudely  denned.  In  the  school  of  Spinoza,  the  theory  was  rendered 
more  plausible  by  his  reasoning  from  the  definition  of  substance  furnished  by  Descartes,  §  656,  and  by  hii 
clear  conception  and  his  emphatic  enforcement  of  the  truth  that  no  finite  being  can  be  independent  oi 
any  other  for  the  beginning  or  continuance  of  its  existence.  Hegel  seemed  to  give  the  finishing  stroke  to  the 
argument,  when  he  contended  that  not  only  the  existence,  but  even  the  conception  of  a  finite  being  in- 
volves the  knowledge  of  its  relations  to  all  other  so-called  finite  beings  ;  and  as  actual  existence  is  but  th6 
rational  result  of  an  ideal  or  mental  conception  of  the  evolution  of  the  whole,  so  each  finite  being  exists  only 
as  it  is  evolved  from  and  by  the  whole 

Diversity  or  negation  is  applied  to  a  being  as  distinguished  from  its  relations,  to  on« 
relation  as  distinguished  from  another  relation,  and  also  to  one  being  as  distinguished  from 
another  by  means  of  its  relations.  While  it  is  true  that  one  being,  whether  material  or 
spiritual,  is  distinguished  from  another  by  intuition  or  direct  inspection  ;  it  is  also  true  that  in 
the  most  important  parts  and  uses  of  our  knowledge,  we  employ  relations  only,  and  especially 
those  similar  relations  by  which  beings  are  united  under  concepts.  These  last  are  the  essential 
products  and  media  of  all  thought-knowledge,  the  conditions  of  language,  and  the  aim  and 
achievement  of  all  science. 

This  introduces  us  to  the  category  of  substance  and  attribute, 

Substance     and  &      J 

attribute  for-     so  far  as  it  is  merely  abstract  and  formal.     We  have  already 

mally     conceiv-  .  .  °  t/.  «•'••"•'", 

ed.  seen  in  our  analysis  of  the  formation  and  application  of  the 

concept,  that  it  presupposes  similar,  and  therefore  common  relations  ; 
and  that  these  are  singly  and  in  combination  affirmable  of  things  which  are 
diverse  in  the  content  or  essence  by  which  they  are  defined,  and  in  the 
extent  of  beings  to  which  they  may  be  applied. 

Whenever  a  being  is  thought  of,*,  e.,  is  distinguished  from  another  being 
by  the  number  and  the  extent  of  its  relations,  then  we  have  the  rela- 
tion of  substance  and  attribute  in  its  abstract  form.  What  it  is  in 
the  concrete,  and  what  is  the  true  import  of  a  material  and  spiritual  sub- 
stance, we  will  inquire  after  we  have  considered  the  several  categories, 
both  mathematical  and  real,  by  which  these  two  descriptions  of  beings 
are  characterized,  Chap.  VII.  We  are  at  present  concerned  with  it  only 
in  the  abstract,  and  as  a  formal  relation. 

We  notice  however,  that  diversity  or  difference  pertains  to  a  concept  as  truly  as  to  an 
individual,  to  a  logical  essence  as  properly  as  to  an  actual  being.  Whatever  be  the  object 
distinguished,  however  unlike  any  other  in  its  being  or  relations  ;  or  whether  the  diversity 
belongs  to  the  being  or  its  relations,  diversity  is  properly  applied  to  it.  The  sense  or  mean- 
ing in  which  one  object  is  diverse  from  another  should,  however,  always  be  kept  in  view. 

§  548.  The  relation  of  diversity  with  its  several  applications 
suggests  the  relation  of  identity.     In  affirming  that  A  is  not 


B,  or  is  diverse  from  B,  we  are  prepared  to  affirm  that  A  is 
dentical  with  itself.  When  we  apprehend  that  A  is  not  B,  or  that 
A  is  not  B  in  some  one  particular,  we  can  hardly  fail  to  apprehend 
that  it  is  the  same  as  itself.  That  the  mind  comes  to  the  distinct  recog- 
nition of  this  relation  at  an  early  period  of  its  development,  and  makes  fre- 
quent application  of  it  afterwards,  is  too  obvious  to  need  confirmation 
That  the  relation  is  original,  and  is  intuitively  discerned,  is  almost  equullj 


534  THE   HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §  54 ft 

clear.     To  attempt  to  explain  it  by  or  to  resolve  it  into  any  other  rela- 
tion is  to  fail. 

Let  it  be  supposed,  as  many  hold,  that  the  first  object  to  which  it  is  applied 
Affirmed  of  men-  is  the  soul  itself,  as  distinguished  from  the  diverse  acts  and  states  of  which  it 
tal  existence.  -g  conscious<  Astheego  distinguishes  itself  from  its  changing  states,  it  knows 

that  the  states  are  varying,  but  the  ego  is  the  same.  In  doing  so,  it  must 
compare  itself  at  one  time  with  itself  at  another,  or  itself  in  one  state  with  itself  in  another, 
if  this  knowledge  is  expressed  in  a  proposition,  the  ego  in  one  state  and  at  one  time  is  the 
subject — the  ego  at  another  time  and  in  another  state  is  the  predicate  coupled  with  the  sameness 
affirmed.  The  sameness  however  is  predicated  of  the  same  real  object.  The  occasion  which 
excites  to  its  affirmation  is  described  by  the  diverse  form  or  time  under  which  it  is  pre- 
sented to  the  mind. 

This  would  by  some  philosophers  be  held  to  be  a  contradiction  in  terms,  an  offence  against  the  law 
of  identity  itself,  because,  as  it  is  alleged,  the  subject  and  predicate  should  be  terms  exactly  convertible. 
That  this  is  a  false  and  narrow  view  of  the  nature  of  predication, and  of  the  law  of  identity,  see  P.  III.  c.  v 

Or  it  may  be  that  Identity  is  affirmed  of  a  material  object,  as  of  a  house,  or  a 

ship,  a  tree,  or  a  horse.  In  such  cases  the  objects  are  perceived  at  different 
Or  of  material. 

t  mes  at  least,  and  are  often  changed  in  form,  appearance  and  properties.    The 

.test  or  standard  of  identity  may  be  real  and  natural,  or  it  may  be  conventional 
and  factitious.  But  the  relation  itself  is  not  thereby  altered.  It  is  properly  expressed  by  a 
proposition,  thus :  the  object  now  perceived,  or  in  any  form  or  appearance,  is  the  same  as  the 
object  perceived  formerly,  or  under  a  different  form  and  aspect. 

Identity  may  also  be  applied  to  a  purely  mental  product.  Often  it  is  inter- 
Of  a  purely  men-  changed  with  similarity,  or  the  sameness  is  transferred  from  the  object 
tal  product.  which  is  mentally  transcribed  or  pictured,  e.  </.,  I  have  a  similar  image  or  con. 

cept  now  of  the  same  object  which  I  previously  imagined  or  thought,  as  of  the 
same  horse,  or  of  horses  similar  to  him  hi  all  essential  particulars.  When  the  concept  is  said 
to  be  the  same,  in  all  times  and  in  all  ages,  it  is  not  necessary  that  it  should  be  formed  by  all 
men  from  the  same  individuals,  but  it  is  meant  that  the  similarity  between  the  individual 
objects  is  so  perfect  that  one  individual  may  be  substituted  for  another  in  forming  it,  and  that 
it  may  be  applied  to  one  as  freely  and  as  properly  as  to  another,  so  that  for  all  the  purposes 
of  thought  and  reasoning  and  scientific  knowledge  it  is  as  though  the  individual  objects  were 
the  same. 

It  is  in  this  last  sense  that  identity  is  so  conspicuous  in  logic  and  philosphy,  viz.,  in  the  re- 
lations of  a  concept  to  a  concept.  It  is  the  identity  of  a  concept  with  its  content,  in  propositions 
of  definition,  or  of  a  concept  with  its  extent  in  propositions  of  division,  or  of  the  two  as  cor- 
related, to  which  the  laws  of  identity  and  contradiction  in  books  of  logic  are  applied.  The 
extension  of  these  laws  to  other  kinds  of  identity  and  difference  has  wrought  indescribable 
confusion  and  error  of  thinking. 

The  principle  or  law  of  identity  is,  in  books  of  logic,  con- 
Theiawofiden-  nected  with  the  law  of  contradiction  and  the  law  of  ex- 

tity,  etc.  in  logic. 

eluded  middle,  and  the  three  are  set  forth  as  the  three 
fundamental  laws  or  principles  of  thought.  To  secure  us  against  the  con- 
fusion and  error  of  which  we  have  spoken,  the  inquiry  is  of  great 
interest  and  importance,  what  relation  have  these  laws  of  thought  to 
the  intuitions  of  identity  and  diversity  ?  In  answer  to  this  inquiry  we 
may  say : 


§549.  FORMAL   RELATIONS    OR   CATEGORIES.  535 

Concern  the  re.    These  laws  of  thought  concern  the  relations  of  concepts  to 
'  °       concepts  ;  the  intuitions  in  question  concern  the  relations  of 


beings  and  things.  But  as  the  relations  of  concepts  to  con- 
cepts are  in  the  last  analysis  resolved  into  and  founded  upon  the 
relations  of  things,  it  is  manifest  that  the  purely  logical  principles  or 
laws  cannot  be  received  as  fundamental.  They  are  the  axioms  of  logical 
thinking,  but  not  necessarily  the  rules  for  every  form  and  mode  of  knowl- 
edge. In  logic  and  thought-knowledge  they  are  such  practical  rules,  or 
principles  from  which  those  rules  are  derived,  as  have  been  found  necessary 
from  the  clangers  to  which  men  are  exposed  in  the  use  of  concepts, 
from  the  various  forms  of  expression  in  which  both  concepts  and  their 
relations  are  phrased. 


The  law  of  iden- 


The  law  of  identity  is  designed  to  avoid  a  twofold  danger  in 

xne  law  01  men-        , 

tity     guards    the  use  of  concepts  and  terms.     We  are  tempted  to  suppose, 

against    a    two-  .,  ,          -,      ,  IT. 

fold  danger.  on  the  one  hand,  because  the  diction  is  altered,  that  the 
concepts,  propositions,  and  reasonings  are  changed,  or,  on  the  other,  we 
hastily  conclude  that  two  different  phrases  are  equivalent  in  meaning. 

To  avoid  this  double  exposure  we  are  held  by  this  law  to  the  necessity  and 
CTses^an^nims  the  dutv  of  a}wayg  usmg  an^  maintaining  our  concepts  in  the  same  import, 
identity.  and  of  being  certain  that  we  mean  the  same  thought  when  we  use  the  same 

or  equivalent  language.  Of  our  concepts,  it  is  only  those  which  are  complex 
which  can  be  tried  and  tested  by  this  law;  and  these  can  be  tested  both  in  their  content  and 
extent.  In  its  application  to  the  content  it  asserts  that  a  concept  is,  for  purposes  of  logic,  the 
same  with  the  sum  of  its  constituting  elements :  A=(a,  b,  c,  d,  and  e) ;  i.  <?.,  all  these  being  taken 
together,  the  one  is  convertible  with  the  other.  When  applied  to  the  relation  of  extent, 
it  asserts  that  the  concept  as  genus  is  identical  with  the  total  of  its  c.ntamed  species  or  sub- 
ordinate parts.  When  content  and  extent  are  both  recognized  in  any  use,  then  identity  in 
both  these  particulars  is  to  be  respected.  To  make  the  logical  law  of  identity  a  mere  mean- 
ingless truism,  as  A  is  A,  or  a  concept  in  the  same  form  of  diction  is  identical  with  itself; 
is  inept  and  absurd. 

It  is  true,  as  has  been  said,  that  in  the  last  analysis  logical  relations  are  founded  upon 

.  real  relations,  or  the  relations  of  concepts  upon  the  relations  of  things.    The  principle 

on  real  identity.       °^  i^entity  iQ  logic  has  its  meaning  and  its  use  from  the  assumption  that  in  nature  and 

the  constitution  of  things  there  are  the  same  powers  (x.  e.,  similar),  the  same  causes, 

the  same  ends,  and  the  same  laws,  and  that  these  are  represented  to  the  mind  in  the 

same  concepts  with  a  fixed  content  and  extent.    The  identity  of  concepts  or  logical  identity  is  derived 

from  :\  special  application  of  that  relation  of  identity  which  is  intuitional  and  original. 

§  549.  A  similar  remark  may  be  made  of  the  logical  axiom 
?radiction.f "  "  or  law  of  contradiction :  A  is  not  not- A.  This  is  only  a 

generalized  application  of  the  intuition  of  difference  to  any 
concept  whatever,  taken  in  both  extent  and  content.  A  thing  or  a  con- 
cept is  not  another,  it  is  not  any  one  of  the  things  or  concepts  from  which 
it  differs,  nor  all  of  them  united.  Expressed  as  a  rule  it  requires  "  it  should 
never  be  confounded  with  them,  or  substituted  for  them." 


536  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  55C 

The  law  of  excluded  middle  is  but  another  application  of 
Excluded  middle,  the  intuitions  of  difference  and  identity  when  generalized, 

It  is,  every  B  is  either  A  or  not-A.  When  A  is  distin- 
guished from  not-A,  it  is  then  discerned  by  reflection  that  these  two  di« 
vide  the  extent  of  all  conceivable  existences  into  two  classes.  This  truth 
is  then  stated  as  a  principle ;  which  is  ready  to  be  used  as  a  law  whenever 
it  is  required  to  guard  or  correct  our  thinking. 

§  550.  Much  evil  has  resulted  from  the  error  of  taking  these  three  logical  laws  as  the  original  and  th« 
only  laws  of  our  knowledge. 

It  was  entirely  natural  for  philosophers  who  were  practised  in  the  schools  of  formal 
Misapplica-  logic  to  suppose  that  every  thing  which  man  believes  to  be  true  could  be  demonstrated 
tj  °n  of  the  law  by  the  methods  and  after  the  principles  of  the  syllogism.  The  tenacity  with  which  this 
persuasion  has  been  adhered  to  is  most  remarkable  in  the  history  of  all  systems  and 
schools  of  thought.  For  a  long  period  after  the  revival  of  philosophy  it  seemed  that 
man  would  never  cease  to  attempt  to  give  a  logical  demonstration  for  the  very  axioms  and  principles  on 
which  all  demonstration  must  rest.  Logical  proof  was  required  for  all  knowledge,  for  the  belief  in  a  mate- 
rial world,  for  our  confidence  in  memory,  for  the  distinction  between  facts  of  experience  and  the  illusions 
of  the  imagination ;  in  short,  for  every  thing  known  or  believed  by  man.  To  logical  proof  the  three  laws 
of  thought  were  assumed  as  the  axioms.  Hence,  upon  these  three  laws  was  made  to  rest  the  whole  struc- 
ture of  human  knowledge,  and  from  them,  the  validity  of  this  knowledge  was  deduced  in  all  its  forms  and 
applications. 

This  view  of  these  laws  is  especially  manifest  in  the  system  of  Wolf,  who  sought  formally  to  demon 
strate  the  truth  of  all  that  we  know.  These  logical  axioms  constitute  the  ultimate  principles  on  which  all 
knowledge  rests,  the  decisive  criteria  by  which  the  credibility  of  all  knowledge  is  to  be  tested  and  tried. 

A  new  direction  was  given  to  opinion  in  respect  to  the  value  and  authority  of  these 
Kant  resolved  principles  by  Kant  and  his  followers.  Kant  demonstrated  that  as  logical  axioms  they 
these  laws  into  oniy  respect  the  consistency  of  concepts  with  concepts,  and  ae  such  cannot  be  made 
forms  of  thought.  ^  g,)le  foim(jations  or  criteria  of  knowledge.  He  showed  that  besides  analytical  judg- 
ments d prior i,  to  which  these  principles  apply  in  the  fullest  measure,  there  is  also 
another  class  of  d  priori  judgments  to  which  they  can  have  no  possible  relation.  But  when  he  made  the 
d  priori  element  in  all  these  judgments  to  be  dependent  upon  mental  forms  which  might  be  only  the 
products  of  the  mind's  own  activity,  he  greatly  weakened  their  force  and  authority. 

Bchelling,  after  Fichte  had  carried  Kant's  doctrines  into  complete  idealism,  sought  to 
R  . . .  ,  provide  for  our  knowledge  of  the  external  or  material  world  by  asserting  that  we  have 

Hegel's  view  of     a  direct  intuition,  in  the  first  instance,  of  the  indifference  of  both  the  subjective  and 
identity.  objective.     In   other  words,  as  first  known  these  are  undistinguished  or  identical. 

From  this  indifference  or  identity  of  the  two,  the  mind  develops  the  two  opposite 
forms  of  known  being.  This  was  an  entirely  novel  application  of  the  law  of  identity,  a  transference  of 
it  from  the  logical  to  the  metaphysical  arena.  Hegel  sought  to  give  this  doctrine  definite  shape,  by  mak- 
ing pure  thought  or  the  abstract  concept  the  starting  point.  From  this,  by  the  necessary  movement  oi 
thought,  he  sought  to  develop  every  form  and  object  of  huma.n  knowledge.  He  tested  all  knowledge 
by  logic,  and,  of  course,  made  the  logical  axioms  universal.  But  in  doing  so  he  made  a  special  use  of  the 
law  of  negation  and  the  law  of  identity.  The  relation  of  negation  is  fundamental  to  his  whole  system. 
Every  concept  is  what  it  is  by  its  negative  relation  to  something  else  :  when  this  negative  to  something 
else  is  turned  back  or  applied  to  define  the  first  it  gives  it  all  its  positive  and  definite  import :  A  is  not  B  : 
Us  not-B-ness  makes  it  to  be  what  it  is  as  A.  The  relation  of  identity  is  similarly  applied.  A  ia 
shown  to  be  identical  with  not-B  by  precisely  the  same  mode  of  developing  and  defining  it.  Whatever 
is  developed  from  any  concept  is  developed  by  thought,  and  in  being  developed  from  it,  is  shown  to  be 
other  than  it  is ;  but  by  being  affirmed  of  it  it  is  made  to  be  identical  with  it.  In  this  way  every  object  it 
shown  in  its  thought-relations  to  be  that  which  it  is  not— in  other  words,  to  be  identical  with  it  because 
it  is  conceited  or  defined  ?y  it 


§  552.  MATHEMATICAL  RELATIONS  I   TIME  AND  SPACE.  53' 


CHAPTER    IV. 

MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I   TIME    AND   SPACE. 

THE  class  of  relations  or  categories  which  come  next  in  order  are  the  relations  which  involve 
the  belief  in  time  and  space.  They  are  what  in  our  classification  we  have  called  the 
mathematical  categories.  These  relations  are  of  the  most  extensive  application.  The 
recognition  of  them  is  involved  in  every  act  of  consciousness  and  perception.  They  are 
most  intimately  blended  with  one  another.  They  suggest  the  space  and  time  which  are 
infinite  and  absolute — the  correlates  of  limited  time  and  limited  space.  Both  space  and 
time  are  invested  with  a  peculiar  mystery  which  seems  to  mock  every  attempt  at  analysis 
and  explanation.  On  the  other  hand,  the  very  mystery  of  their  nature  and  essence 
serves  to  fascinate  and  hold  the  attention  to  them ;  the  difficulty  which  attends  the  subject- 
matters  both  invites  and  challenges  investigation.  In  order  to  relieve  the  treatment  of 
the  subject  as  much  as  possible,  we  will  consider  them  first  under  their  more  familiar 
aspects  and  relations,  and  afterwards  in  those  which  are  more  recondite  and  difficult.  We 
begin  with 

I.  Extension  as  given  in  sense- Perception ;  or  the  relations  of  matter 
which  introduce  and  require  the  knowledge  of  Space. 

AH  matter  is  §  551'  ^  matter  is  known  as  extended.  The  beings  or 
known  as  ex-  objects  of  which  we  become  cognizant  in  the  muscular  and 
sen  serial  apparatus  are  extended.  The  percepts  which  are 
presented  to  the  sensorium,  as  eye  and  ear  and  hand,  are  perceived  as  ex- 
tended. Whether  this  objective  and  extended  world  is  first  perceived  as 
a  whole  and  then  divided  into  parts,  or  as  parts  which  are  afterwards 
united  into  a  \vhole,  or  as  parts  and  whole  together  reciprocally  rela 
ted,  it  or  they  must  be  known  as  extended. 

It  is  not  meant  that  the  extension  in  one  or  all  of  its  dimensions  is  known  at 
The  extension  at  first  separately  from  the  matter  to  which  it  pertains  and  of  which  it  is  affinn- 
with  matter.  ed ;  nor  that  its  several  directions  or  dimensions  are  clearly  distinguished;  nor 

again  that  the  mind  is  at  once  familiar  with  magnitude,  form,  size,  and 
distance,  apart  from  perceived  objects,  or  even  as  belonging  to  such  objects.  Nor  again  is  it 
intended  that  these  objects  of  apprehension  are  clearly  distinguished  and  familiarly  mastered  at 
even  the  first  application  of  the  attention.  Frequent  repetition  and  much  practice  is  requisite 
to  separate  the  elements  which  in  a  single  perception  are  blended,  or  vaguely  perceived.  But 
these  elements  un-distinguished  and  connected,  must  be  potentially  in  the  object,  and  ready  to  be 
discerned  as  soon  as  the  mind  attends.  Some  are  mastered  more  easily  than  others.  One  and 
another  stands  out  from  its  background  of  original  indistinctness,  by  a  natural  prominence  as 
compared  with  the  remainder.  But  the  mind  neither  creates  its  materials  either  of  being  or  rela- 
tion, from  itself  or  by  means  of  its  own  energy,  nor  does  it  give  validity  to  its  concepts 
of  either  simply  by  inspecting  objects.  It  simply  finds  what  was  there  before,  and  what 
would  at  once  have  been  observed  if  the  attention  had  been  more  sharp  and  the  powers  had 
been  matured.  As  soon  as  it  begins  to  distinguish  the  objects  or  parts  of  the  objects  of  ita 
perception,  it  connects  them  at  once  by  the  relations  in  question. 

Deveio  ment  of    §  552'  ^s  soon  as  ^Y  matter  is  distinguished  as  such,  from 
the  several  reia-    ail(j  by  the  observing  mind,  it  is  known  as  extended,  at  least 

lions  of  exten-  *  » 

si°n.  in  two  dimensions.     We  cannot  conceive  the  eye  and  the 


538  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §552 

hand  to  rest  upon  or  to  move  along  any  so-called  object  without  the 
apprehension  of  an  extended  surface.  In  the  process  by  which  the  mate- 
rial world  itself  is  broken  up  into  separate  objects,  each  of  these  objects 
must  be  known  as  terminating  in  surfaces  having  different  directions  with 
reference  to  the  surfaces  and  positions  of  other  objects.  The  ball  which 
the  infant  grasps  and  holds  is  known  to  have  an  extended  surface,  which 
when  followed  by  the  eye  or  felt  by  the  hand  is  known  to  return  upon 
itself,  giving  as  the  result  a  formed  object  or  an  object  having  form.  The 
cube  sooner  or  later  makes  objects  familiar  as  extended  in  three  dimen- 
sions or  directions,  i.  e.,  as  high,  broad,  and  deep.  This  extension  is  first 
known  as  outer  or  as  enclosing  matter.  But  when  the  child  peeps  into  a 
box,  or  surveys  from  within,  the  walls,  floor  and  ceiling  of  the  apartment 
with  which  it  is  familiar,  it  distinguishes  surfaces  as  inner  or  inclosed 
by  matter  from  those  which  are  outer  and  inclose  matter  ;  the  surfaces 
being  still  known  as  belonging  to  matter  and  not  at  all  as  separable 
attributes,  and  still  less  as  involving  relations  to  empty  space  or  a  con- 
ceivable void. 

But  the  mind  cannot  contemplate  inclosing  and  inclosed,  or  outer  and  inner 
Void  or  inclos-  extension,  without,  removing  the  inclosed  or  inclosing  matter,  or  at  least  with- 
ing  space.  Qut  Chinking  of  them  as  removed.  By  the  child,  the  box  or  apartment  is 

believi  d  literally  to  be  empty.  It  is  void  of  all  matter  that  is  discern- 
ible  by  the  senses.  The  outer  surface  of  the  ball  or  cube  is  in  contact  with  no  perceived 
matter.  So  far  as  the  senses  apprehend,  a  void  or  empty  space  is  believed  to  envelop  them. 
The  contained  atmosphere  is  not  perceived  to  be  material.  However  decisively  succeeding 
experiments  may  prove  that  it  has  weight,  resistance  and  even  color,  the  senses  do  not  as  yet 
acknowledge  any  of  these  properties.  In  this  void  there  is  nothing,  i.  e.,  nothing  sensible  or 
material.  And  yet  this  void  can  be  occupied  with  matter.  The  box  and  the  apartment  can 
both  be  filled.  Cube  can  be  piled  upon  cube,  ball  can  be  laid  by  the  side  of  ball  till  the  inner 
surfaces  are  reached  in  every  direction.  More  than  all,  within  this  void,  matter  can  be  moved  ; 
the  ball  can  be  dragged  or  thrown  from  one  side  of  the  apartment  to  the  other, 

Matter  is  thus  perceived  to  be  capable  of  being  included  or  surrounded  by 
void  space/  Is  other  matter,  or  by  that  which  is  void  —  i.  e.,  not-matter.  It  is  also  known  to 


placeand  dbrc-  e  of  including  other  matter  or  void  space.     Last  and  most  im. 

tion.  portant  of  all,  it  is  known  to  be  movable  in  space.     Moreover,  within  the 

void  included  by  matter,  different  objects  may  be  introduced.  When  compared  with  one 
another,  or  with  this  inclosing  matter,  they  are  said  to  be  placed  or  situated  here  and  there, 
near  and  remote,  etc.  When  viewed  with  respect  to  a  person  perceiving  them,  or  an  object 
in  his  place,  they  are  before  and  behind.  If  the  person  or  object  moves  or  is  moved,  he  or  i« 
is  said  to  go  or  to  be  carried  hither  and  thither.  These  give  the  relations  of  matter  to  matter, 
involving  place,  position,  and  direction. 

All  these  relations  are  as  yet  known  of  different  portions  of  matter  as  perceived.  The 
mUside  and  inside,  the  here  and  there,  etc.,  etc.,  are  only  affirmed  of  m«terial  objects  as  they 
ire  mutually  related  to  each  other,  and  to  the  something  which  at  least  is  not  known  to  be 
matter,  or,  it  may  be,  is  known  not  to  be  matter  —  i.  e^  not  to  affeci  the  senses  in  any  of  th« 
usual  methods. 


§554.  MATHEMATICAL  KELATIONS  :  TIME  AND  SPACE.  539 

Analysis  re-  §  &*>3.  After  the  process  of  perception  is  complete,  and  all 
Ktfcms'one  by  tnat  ^  involves  is  united  and  built  up  into  sense-objects  and 

their  relations,  the  mind  proceeds  to  analyze  these  elements, 
and  to  think  of  them  separately  from  any  one  substance,  and  as  common  to 
many.  The  color,  the  taste,  the  feeling,  and  the  other  sensible  qualitiea 
are  conceived  and  named  apart  in  the  manner  already  explained,  and 
soon  become  familiar  to  the  mind.  But  after  disposing  of  all  the  qualities 
apprehended  by  sense-perception,  it  encounters  as  a  residuum  those  which 
are  suggested  by  the  inner  and  outer  surfaces  of  matter  as  already  de- 
scribed. The  hand  experiments  upon  these  surfaces,  and  finds  them 
rough  or  smooth,  etc.  The  eye  discerns  them  as  variously  colored,  as  light 
or  dark,  etc.  But  no  one  of  the  senses  finds  what  we  call  their  extension. 
There  is  no  sense-perception  to  which  this  is  appropriate,  and  over 
against  which  this  may  be  set  as  a  quality.  Moreover,  this  very  property 
involves  the  recognition  of  the  void  to  which  it  is  conceived  to  have  some 
relation.  The  one  cannot  be  apprehended  without  the  other;  the  asser- 
tion or  recognition  of  the  one  is  the  assertion  or  recognition  of  some  rela- 
tion to  the  other. 

What  is  this  void  which  we  call  space ;  which  as  yet  is  not 
s.  many  Percevve(l  by  the  senses,  and  yet  is  somehow  known  to 

exist  ?  What  is  extension  or  that  property  in  matter  which 
requires  the  recognition  of  space  ?  By  what  powers  and  processes  of  the 
mind  are  each  of  these  known?  How  are  they  defined  when  known? 
These  inquiries  remain  to  be  answered.  We  may  find  some  aid  in  answer- 
ing them,  if  we  consider  first  the  attributes  and  relations  which  involve 
the  kindred  questions  in  respect  to  time. 


II.  Of  Time  as  apprehended  in  consciousness  ;  or  the  relations  of 
events  which  introduce  and  involve  the  knowledge  of  Time. 

§  554.  The  phenomena  or  activities  of  the  soul  are  to  time, 
re?ataea°nto  Se  what  material  objects  are  to  space.  It  is  to  these  events  and 

activities  of  the  spirit  that  the  relations  of  time  are  applied 
with  the  most  eminent  propriety.  They  are  also  afiirmed  of  the  events 
and  phenomena  of  matter,  and  apparently  with  the  same  directness  and 
confidence  as  of  those  of  spirit.  Whether  this  happens  by  the  direct 
or  intuitive  action  of  the  mind,  or  by  its  indirect  and  mediate  opera- 
tions, is  reserved  for  further  inquiry.  Meanwhile,  there  can  be  no  question 
that  time  and  its  relations  pertain  with  eminent  propriety  to  the  phe- 
nomena which  the  soul  apprehends  by  consciousness. 

Every  psychical  act  or  state,  whether  apprehended  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctly as  a  part  of  the  whole  series,  and  the  entire  series  viewed  as  an 
unoroken  whole,  is  known  as  continuing  or  enduring. 


640  THE    HUMAN     INTELLECT.  §  555, 

How  soon ;  or  whether  it  is  by  the  gradual  discipline  or  instant  applicatior 
«Hif  nc>t  df  'tin6  °^  tne  Powers  tnat  Psvchical  phenomena  are  separated  into  distinct  events,  w« 
guished  at  first,  need  not  inquire.  The  events  of  our  inner  life  may  seem  at  first  to  flow  ic 

a  smooth  and  even  current,  or  the  surface  may,  from  the  first,  be  broken  bj 
slight  ripples,  that  afterwards  rise  into  clearly-distinguished  waves.  In  either  case,  the  whole 
and  the  parts  are  known  as  continuous  or  enduring.  An  act  that  is  literally  instantaneous,  a 
state  beginning  and  ending  in  the  same  instant  and  occupying  no  time  at  all,  is  absolutely 
inconceivable.  What  we  call  instants  are  not  timeless,  but  the  least  knowable  or  appreciable 
portions  of  time.  As  every  object  of  sense-perception — whether  many  as  one,  or  one  of  many 
— must  be  known  as  extended ;  so  is  it  with  the  phenomena  of  consciousness.  Continuance 
belongs  to  each  and  to  all.  This  continuance  of  which  we  are  conscious  at  first,  like  the 
extension  which  we  perceive  in  matter,  is  not  known  as  an  attribute  or  relation  involving 
what  we  call  void  or  absolute  time,  but  is  known  as  blended  with  the  object  of  which  we  are 
conscious  ;  constituting  with  the  special  matter  of  the  state  an  undistinguished  whole,  separa- 
ble by  the  attentive  thought  into  its  distinguishable  elements  or  relations. 

8  555.    As  soon  and  as  fast  as  the  continuous  flow  of  these 

The  continuance      .  •       i        i  T      • 

of  two  classes  of    inner  phenomena  is   broken  up  into  distinct  and  separable 

activities.  . 

events,  the  tact  that  they  are  continuous  becomes  more  dis- 
tinctly apprehended.  Before  it  was  vaguely  known ;  now  it  is  made  the 
matter  of  definite  cognition.  But  there  are  two  classes  of  objects  given 
to  consciousness ;  first,  the  energy  of  the  ego  by  which  it  manifests  its 
continued,  unbroken,  and  identical  life ;  and  second,  the  special  activities 
which  change  every  instant,  which  are  clearly  distinguished  from  one 
another,  and  attract  the  attention  by  their  special  force  or  quality.  The 
mind  knows  itself  the  subject  of  changing  activities — to  be  living  and  acting 
continuously.  That  which,  in  the  knowledge  of  what  is  here  called  the 
continued  life  or  energy  of  the  soul,  is  presented  as  the  object  of  its 
apprehension,  cannot  be  classed  with  any  thing  besides,  in  the  soul's 
cognition.  It  is  enough  to  say  of  it,  that  the  soul  distinguishes  itself 
from  its  changing  and  succeeding  phenomena,  and  that  it  knows  the  ego — 
the  self,  the  existing  being  as  contrasted  with  its  phenomena — to  be 
enduring.  But  the  soul  also  knows  itself  as  acting  and  suffering  in  states 
that  change  as  continuously.  Some  of  these  states  may  seem  also  to 
coincide  with  others,  as  one  continuous  or  repeated  act  of  knowledge  may 
run  side  by  side  with  two  or  more  diverse  states  of  feeling. 

Of  the  special  and  changing  activities  we  are  accustomed  to  say,  We  know 
The  present,  the  present  by  immediate  and  intuitive  inspection,  but  we  know  them  as 
past,  and  future,  continuing :  the  past  activity  we  remember,  but  we  remember  it  as  con- 
tinuing :  the  future  we  anticipate  and  believe  in,  but  we  believe  it  as  con- 
tinuing. But  we  know  all  the  three  as  connected  with  and  proceeding  from  the  continually 
existing  subject  of  them,  and  as  by  its  life  connected  with  one  another.  Upon  this  con. 
tinually  existing  and  proceeding  life  of  the  soul,  all  its  special  activities  and  states  are  pro- 
jected,  as  it  were ;  as  one  portion  of  extended  matter  is  perceived  over  against  the  back- 
ground  of  other  matter  more  extended  than  itself.  These  activities  thus  connected  are  known 
to  exist  in  a  series  involving  the  relations  between  one  another  of  now,  before,  and  after. 
These  relations  are  applied  first  of  all  to  the  individual  activities  of  the  soul,  not  at  all  to  the 
Instants  or  periods  of  time  which  they  are  conceived  to  occupy,  or  are  supposed  to  represent 


Jj  557.  MATHEMATICAL    RELATIONS  :   TLXIE    AND    SPACE.  541 

for  these  are  not  yet  supposed  to  be  reached  by  analysis  or  generalization.  But  just  as  we 
speak  of  portions  of  matter,  as  here,  there  ;  before,  behind ;  uithin,  and  without ;  so  we  apply 
these  time-relations  to  the  states  of  the  soul.  As  we  find  one  portion  of  matter  included  by 
or  including  other  portions,  so  we  can  cut  off  one  portion  of  the  continuous  life  of  the  soul  by 
voluntary  or  involuntary  effort,  and  contemplate  those  states  which  are  bounded  by  it,  either 
in  the  way  of  inclusion  or  exclusion. 

§  556.  Time  may  seem  to  the  consciousness  to  be  void,  as  space 
?v"nate.°n  v°id  °f  can  aPPear  to  be  void  to  sense-perception.  The  mind  can  at 

least  attend  to  a  certain  series  only  of  the  events  of  its  inner 
life,  and  contemplate  the  rest  of  this  existence  as  unoccupied  by  any 
events  whatever,  and  yet  as  continuing.  There  can  be  no  time  absolutely 
void,  but  portions  of  the  soul's  existence  can  be  considered  as  such,  in  the 
sense  explained.  But  that  time  should  be  conceived  or  known  as  void,  ia 
not  at  all  essential  to  the  knowledge  of  events  in  the  relations  of  time. 
We  can  know  events  as  past,  present,  and  future,  by  considering  each  of 
them  as  continuous  phenomena  of  the  continued  life  of  the  soul. 

We  have  to  do  thus  far  only  with  time-relations  in  the  concrete,  and  as  given 
Consciousness  in  consciousness.  By  consciousness,  it  will  be  obvious,  we  do  not  intend 
carefully -lefined.  mereiy  tne  power  or  the  act  by  which  the  soul  knows  its  own  states  as  present 

and  immediate.  It  includes  some  use  of  the  representative  power  in  respect 
to  past  and  future  events,  as  well  as  the  belief  that  what  is  represented,  was  or  will  be  actual. 
Consciousness  must  be  enlarged  to  this  extent  of  meaning,  before  it  can  connect  objects  in  the 
relations  of  time.  But  in  consciousness  as  thus  defined,  we  clearly  distinguish  between  what 
is  concrete  in  the  matter  of  the  soul's  experience — both  its  separate  acts  or  stages  of  knowl. 
edge,  feeling,  and  will,  as  well  as  the  energy  of  the  soul's  continued  life— from  the  time-rela. 
tions  which  these  phenomena  hold  to  one  another.  These  last  are  a  residuum  which  present 
material  for  further  consideration  and  analysis. 

III.     Of  the  mutual  relations  of  Extended  and  Enduring  objects. 

The  mind  dis-  §  55?-  Material  objects,  as  we  have  seen,  are  apprehended 
ana8  enduring  t)y  sense-perception  as  extended.  Spiritual  acts  and  states 
objects  together.  are  known  jn  consciousness  as  enduring.  But  sense-percep- 
tion and  consciousness  occur,  in  fact,  as  two  elements  of  the  same  psychical 
energy  or  state.  As  a  consequence,  the  relations  of  extension  and  dura- 
tion are  intimate  and  interchangeable,  and  the  conceptions  and  language 
originally  derived  from  and  appropriate  to  the  one,  are  appropriated  to  the 
other. 

We  do  not  insist  that  the  soul  can,  in  the  same  mental  state,  act  with  equal 
But  not  with  energy  in  each  of  these  forms  of  activity.  On  the  contrary,  its  force  is  most 
equal  attention.  uguaiiy  expended  upon  the  one  or  the  other.  But  however  energetic  and 

absorbing  be  the  energy  of  the  soul  in  its  sense-perception  of  a  material 
object,  it  cannot  be  wholly  unaware  that  it  also  exercises  spiritual  activity  in  perceiving.  However 
exclusively  introverted  is  its  gaze  upon  the  experiences  of  the  inner  self,  it  cannot  be  wholly 
unaware  of  material  and  extended  objects.  By  this  obvious  fact  of  actual  experience,  we 
explain  the  intimate  conjunction  of  duration  and  extension,  and  understand  how  it  is  not  only 
possible,  but  even  necessary,  to  connect  the  two  in  imagination,  language,  and  thought. 


542  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §559, 

Duration  trans-  §  558-  ^he  first  of  these  applications  which  we  notice,  IE 
rlT*1  alts™  and  tne  transference  of  the  relations  of  time  from  the  phe- 
phenomena.  nomena  of  spirit,  to  the  activities  and  phenomena  of  matter. 

Duration  or  continuance  is,  as  we  have  seen,  originally  discerned  of  the  activities  and 
phenomena  of  the  spirit.  To  these  the  relations  of  time  are  directly  and  properly  applied. 
The  reason  is,  that  when  these  relations  are  affirmed  of  more  than  one  object,  whether  of 
matter  or  spirit,  the  intervention  of  the  memory  is  required.  We  cannot  say  of  the  trotting 
of  a  horse,  of  the  flight  of  a  bullet,  or  of  any  other  motion,  that  it  continued  so  many  seconds 
or  minutes,  without  supposing  the  memory  of  the  observer,  who  is  all  the  while  looking  on,  to 
translate  the  objects  really  taking  place  into  the  objects  as  perceived  by  himself,  i.e.,  into  so  many 
acts  of  his  own,  each  enduring  so  much  time.  Every  object  of  memory  is  remembered  as 
having  been  observed  by  the  person,  and  is  recalled  by  him  as  having  been  observed,  and 
hence  as  necessarily  bearing  the  relations  of  time.  Material  acts  or  phenomena  must  be 
connected  as  constituting  an  intellectual  whole,  that  they  may  be  recalled.  This  is  further 
evident  from  the  circumstance  that,  whatever  may  take  place  hi  the  series  of  objective  or 
material  acts,  that  which  is  unobserved  is  totally  omitted  in  the  estimates  of  time.  It  is  to  the 
mind  as  enduring  as  though  it  had  not  been  at  all.  It  is  not  true  that  observation  or  memory, 
one  or  both,  makes  the  material  phenomena  to  endure  or  to  require  time  in  which  to  endure ; 
but  it  is  true  that  the  knowledge  of  them  as  enduring  requires  that  they  be  thought  of  by 
some  person  as  occurring  in  his  actual  or  possible  experience.  We  raise  no  questions  and 
make  no  assertions  respecting  objective  time,  or  time  considered  apart  from  the  experience 
of  some  spirit.  We  have  to  do,  at  present,  with  duration,  i.  e.,  as  experienced,  or  with  objects  as 
enduring.  We  assert  that  this  relation  can  neither  be  applied,  nor  thought  of  as  applied  to 
any  material  acts  or  events,  except  through  the  medium  of  the  duration  of  some  person  who 
applies  to  them  his  own  spiritual  experiences  as  coinciding  with  these  in  fact  or  imagination. 
Every  such  application,  when  fully  translated  or  explicated,  is  made  as  follows :  "  While  I  was 
thinking  or  observing,  the  horse  trotted  or  the  bullet  sped  so  or  so  far." 

The  measures  §  559-  But  though  duration,  as  a  spiritual  experience,  is  the 
taken^from*1^  ultimate  standard  or  measure ;  the  duration  of  materia^ 
tended  being.  events,— the  actual  measures  of  the  duration  of  both  spiritual 
and  material  phenomena, — are  taken  from  the  objective  or  material  world. 
The  reason  is  obvious.  Any  standard  furnished  from  individual  and 
spiritual  experience  must  be  so  indeterminate  to  one's  self  as  to  be  use- 
less, and,  moreover,  must  be  wholly  inaccessible  to  every  one  besides. 
Though,  in  our  ultimate  analysis,  we  say  to  ourselves,  "  While  I  was 
thinking  and  feeling  so  and  so,  the  pendulum  vibrated,  the  horse  ran,  the 
bullet  sped  so  or  so  far,"  yet  it  is  practically  impossible  for  us  to  fix  and 
render  familiar  any  individual  or  often  repeated  series  of  thoughts  and  feel- 
ings, so  as  to  use  it  as  a  standard  even  for  ourselves.  Even  if  we  could 
do  this  for  ourselves,  we  could  not  bring  it  within  the  reach  and  use  of 
others.  Each  individual  might  perhaps  be  supposed  to  employ  his  own 
separate  measure  or  standard  of  duration,  but  no  two  persons  could  have 
one  that  was  common.  But  two  individuals,  and  even  two  myriads  oi" 
individuals,  can  observe  the  same  vibrating  pendulum,  the  same  advancing 
or  waning  shadow  on  the  dial,  the  same  rising  and  setting  sun,  and  car 
use  these  as  standards  to  measure  and  mark  all  other  phenomena,  bo'b 
internal  and  external. 


§  560.  MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I   TIME    AND    SPACE.  543 

It  is  by  a  natural  necessity,  therefore,  that  all  the  relations  of  time  should  be  measured 
oy  standards  and  dimensions  taken  from  extension  and  space.  Some  material  thing,  moving 
a  prescribed  distance,  is  taken  as  the  unit  or  standard.  It  may  be  a  heavenly  body  returning 
upon  its  path  at  supposed  regular  intervals ;  it  may  be  the  beating  of  the  hand  or  the  foot, 
each  stroke  being  assumed  to  be  equally  long ;  it  may  be  some  artificial  motion,  as  of  a  pendu- 
lum or  balance-wheel,  under  the  operation  of  gravitation  or  steady  tension.  But  whatever  the 
standard  may  be,  it  must  be  assumed,  for  it  cannot  be  in  any  way  demonstrated  that  it3 
motions  are  uniform  in  their  rate  of  time.  It  cannot  be  demonstrated,  and  it  certainly  is  not 
intuitively  discerned,  that  any  of  these  motions  which  are  considered  the  most  accurate 
standards  of  time  are  uniform  with  each  other.  This  assumption  rests  upon  another,  that  of 
rational  order  or  fitness  in  the  constitution  and  phenomena  of  the  universe ;  or,  in  other 
words,  upon  the  principle  of  final  cause.  The  certainty  which  is  claimed  for  the  mathernatico- 
physicul  sciences  in  the  ultimate  and  most  unquestioned  of  their  relations, — the  sciences  which 
are  styled  preeminently  the  sciences  of  observation  and  of  fact — rests  in  the  final  resort  upon 
thia  d  priori  relation  of  being  and  law  of  thought, 

Not  only  are  the  standards  of  duration  taken  from  material 

The  language  of 

duration   taken    aud  extended  omects,  but  the  lantruasre  of  duration  is  taken 

from  the  same. 

from  the  same  source,  and  lor  a  similar  reason.  In  fact,  and 
from  necessity,  all  the  relations  of  time  are  expressed  in  terms  originally 
appropriate  to  material  objects,  and  the  relations  of  extension  which  they 
involve.  Long,  short,  before,  after,  etc.,  were  first  applied  to  material 
oDjects,  and  from  them  transferred  to  the  relations  of  time.  As  will  be 
seen  hereafter,  this  is  but  a  single  example  of  the  necessity  by  which  the 
language  and  terms  of  every  kind  that  are  applied  to  spirit  and  its  rela- 
tions must  be  derived  from  space-objects  and  space-relations. 

IV.    Of  the  relations  of  Quantity  as  applicable  to  space  and  time  objects. 
§  560.    Material  obiects  are  not  only  known  to  be  extended, 

Extended  objects     f  ,J  J    , 

measure  one  but,  as  extended,  they  are  soon  perceived  as  measuring  one 
another.  This  at  once  introduces  and  explains  the  relation 
of  quantity.  The  relation  implies  the  act  of  measuring,  and  the  discovery 
of  an  answer  by  some  assumed  standard.  Quantity  supposes  the  inquiry, 
How  much,  How  many,  or,  How  great  ?  It  has  for  its  answer,  So  much, 
So  many,  So  large — referring  at  once  to  some  object  which,  in  its  relation 
of  extension,  duration,  or  number,  is  before  or  may  be  before  the  mind. 
The  extended  material  universe,  as  at  first  vaguely  and  confusedly  per- 
ceived, is  unbroken,  having  only  superficial  extension.  By  the  process  of 
sense-perception  it  is  soon  broken  into  separate  objects,  each  of  which  is 
extended.  When  these  objects,  thus  separated,  are  again  compared  with 
the  unbroken  whole  from  which  they  are  divided,  they  are  known  as 
holding  to  each  other  the  relation  of  parts  and  a  whole.  The  same  is  true 
when  any  portion  of  this  extended  whole  is  detached  and  subdivided  into 
smaller  divisions. 

In  a  similar  way,  one  or  more  of  the  separate  acts  or  states 

cMcairinpiienS-    of  the  soul  which  follow  one  another  in  a  series  as  experienced 

in  consciousness,  may  be  contemplated  as  dividing,  and  yet 


'544  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §561 

making  up  this  whole,  the  whole  of  time  being  constituted  by  the  con< 
tinued  activity  of  the  soul  in  its  different  acts.  In  this  way  we  apply  the 
relation  of  whole  and  parts  to  both  extended  and  enduring  objects,  the 
whole  being,  in  the  one  case,  constituted  of  objects  adjacent  in  extension, 
and,  in  the  other,  of  objects  continuous  in  duration,  which  objects,  thus 
viewed,  become  its  parts. 

Psychologically  viewed,  the  relation  of  whole  and  parts  is  the  first  of 
the  relations  of  quantity  which  the  mind  apprehends  by  sense  and  con- 
sciousness, and,  as  we  have  seen,  the  wholes  and  parts  which  result  from 
the  analyzing  and  combining  acts  of  sense,  representation  and  thought,  be- 
long among  the  formal  relations. 

Again :  The  adjacent  surfaces  of  extended  objects  are  observed  to  coincide  in  one  of 
their  terminating  limits,  either  when  two  objects  are  placed  closely  upon  one  another  by  the 
hand,  or  when  two  are  held  at  different  distances,  so  as  precisely  to  cover  one  another  to  the 
eye.  If,  in  either  case,  all  the  extremities  coincide,  one  of  these  objects  measures  the 
other,  and  is  equal  to  it.  If  one  extends  beyond  the  other,  it  is  greater ;  if  it  falls  short  of  it 
it  is  less.  The  same  relations  would  be  affirmed  of  two  or  more  spiritual  states  as  enduring, 
if  they  should  be  actually  experienced  together  in  consciousness,  supposing  this  were  possi- 
ble, or  if  they  were  simply  conceived  so  to  occur.  We  speak  of  periods  of  time,  when  thus 
compared,  usually  as  longer  or  shorter  than  others,  or  as  equally  long  or  short  with  another,  in 
terms  taken  from  the  dimensions  of  space.  We  also  speak  of  more,  or  less,  or  equal  time,  in 
those  designations  of  quantity  which  are  common  to  both  space  and  time  objects,  and  are 
acknowledged  to  be  equally  appropriate  to  either. 

It  will  be  noticed  that,  in  order  to  measure  one  extended  surface  by  another,  the  two 
must  be  in  fact,  or  appear  to  the  eye  to  be  in  one  plane.  You  cannot  measure  a  plane  by  a 
spherical  surface,  nor  a  circular  by  a  straight  line.  You  can  measure  only  the  planes  which 
each  present  to  the  eye.  Direction  in  some  sense  is  also  implied.  You  must  move  the  meas- 
ured object  evenly  in  a  plane,  or  move  it  towards  some  defining  limit,  which  must  be  kept 
steadily  in  view.  Inasmuch,  however,  as  the  eye  leads  in  the  sense-perceptions,  and  to  the  eye 
at  first  all  objects  appear  in  one  plane,  direction  need  not  at  first  be  a  matter  prominently  con- 
sidered. 

8  561.    These  examples  explain  how  one  extended  object  or 

Measurement  »  .  J     . 

requires    nom-    enduring  act  of  spirit  may  measure  another  by  the  relations 
of  equality  or  greater  and  less.     Measure,  in  another  mean- 
ing, supposes  the  application  of  number. 

This  relation  may  be  developed  so  far  as  to  be  applied  to 

The  relation  of  _  *,.  _,  „ 

number,  how de-  these  uses,  as  tollows  i  Jjirst  of  all,  some  object  must  be 
selected  which  shall  serve  as  the  unit,  which  at  the  same 
time  can  be  conveniently  repeated  as  an  equal  part  of  a  whole  of  extended 
objects,  or  of  a  series  of  enduring  mental  states.  Let  two  objects  of 
equal  extent  of  surface  be  placed  one  upon  the  other,  and  be  seen  to  be 
equal.  Let  the  one  be  then  placed  adjoining  the  other,  and  made  to  coincide 
with  it  in  the  same  plane ;  or,  which  is  the  same  in  effect,  let  a  single 
object  be  moved  before  any  background,  and  successively  cover  and  reveal 
portions  equal  to  itself,  and  we  have  at  once  complete  occasion  for  the  use 
of  number  in  measurement.  Two  equals  side  by  side  in  a  plane,  car 


§663.  MATHEMATICAL   BELATIONS  :    TIME    AND   SPACE.  545 

be  counted  if,  the  mind  contemplates  the  one  after  the  other  in  the  ordei 
of  time.  That  with  which  it  begins  is  the  first,  or  1,  of  the  series.  The 
next,  when  connected  with  the  one  taken  first  in  time,  is  second,  or  2. 
When  another  is  thus  connected,  we  have  the  third,  or  3,  and  so  on.  Thus 
we  count,  or  number.  But  to  count,  or  number,  is  only  possible  as  we 
connect  objects  by  a  consecutive  series  of  mental  acts  —  that  is,  by  a  series 
of  mental  acts  following  each  other  in  time. 

The  object  which  thus  divides  into  equal  parts  an  extended  whole  or  a  con 
Relations  of  *mued  series,  whether  the  divisions  are  permanent,  or  momentary,  is  called 
number.  its  measure.  When  these  parts  are  connected  as  following  one  another,  bj 

the  sustained  attention  of  the  mind,  the  parts  are  numbered  as  well  a? 

measured. 

§  562.  The  relation  of  number  is  complex,  and  requires  that 
numberladefined!  objects  should  be  connected  in  series  as  wholes  and  parts, 

and  contemplated  in  the  relations  which  are  derived  from  the 
time-relations  of  the  mind  that  views  them.  It  is  clear  that  we  cannot 
number  without  cognizing  objects  as  connected  as  wholes  and  parts,  by  the 
mind's  contemplation  of  them  in  a  series  of  acts  distinguished  and  united 
as  enduring  in  its  own  subjective  experience.  In  other  words,  number 
depends  upon  those  relations  of  time  which  we  assume  and  know  to 
be  inseparable  from  the  soul's  own  activity. 

When  a  series  of  mental  states  is  itself  measured  and  numbered,  it 
must  be  remembered  that  in  reflective  consciousness  the  series  itself  is 
made  objective  to  the  mind.  It  is  treated  or  viewed  as  though  it  were  a 
series  or  whole  of  material  objects.  In  such  a  case  it  is  itself  contem- 
plated by  a  new  series  of  acts  which,  as  necessarily  consequent  in  the 
mind's  subjective  experience,  both  require  and  furnish  the  relations  of 
number  which  are  forthwith  applied  to  the  object-series  before  it.  It 
makes  no  difference  what  this  object  is,  whether  it  is  an  object-object  or  a 
subject-object.  It  is  contemplated  by  a  series  of  acts  wholly  subjective, 
involving  as  spiritual  acts  the  attribute  of  duration  to  themselves,  and  as 
successive,  the  relation  of  number  in  the  objects  which  they  unite  and 
measuio  as  wholes  and  parts. 

Thus  far  we  have  to  do  with  the  relations  of  quantity  as  known  in  the  concrete,  that  Is,  aa 
applied  to  actually  existing  objects.  We  have  seen  how  one  portion  of  matter  or  one  act  or 
state  of  niind  can  be  applied  to  measure  another  or  others,  in  the  way  of  magnitude  and 
number.  We  have  also  seen  that  we  cannot  measure  extended  objects  or  connect  spiritual 
states  without  numbering  them.  How  these  can  be  conceived  as  pure  quantity  or  quant5  ty  ia 
the  abstract,  will  be  considered  hereafter.  (Cf.  §  569). 

V.  Of  extended  and  enduring  objects  as  imaged  or  represented  :  of 
space  and  time  objects  as  enlarged  and  measured  by  the  Imagination. 

§  563.    Only   a  small   portion   of  the   material   universe   is 
-    apprehended  through  the   senses  by  any  single  act  of  the 


mind     The  hand  can  cognize  an  object  of  only  equal  extent 
35 


546  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  564 

with  itself.  The  eye  has  a  far  wider,  but  still  a  very  limited  range.  All 
beyond  either,  is  apprehended  and  measured  by  the  representative  power 
Even  within  the  limits  to  which  the  eye  reaches,  and  upon  those  very 
objects  which  the  eye  seems  to  command,  the  representative  power  is 
largely  employed  in  estimating  extent  in  the  dimensions  of  distance  and 
size. 

That  which  is  before  the  eye  is  the  utmost  which  the  eye  can  in  any  sense  be  said  to 
perceive,  and  very  much  of  this  extent  is  estimated  by  the  mind's  eye.  If  we  change  the 
point  of  view  with  the  swiftness  of  the  flying  bird,  as  fast  as  we  see  a  new  extent  of  objects, 
we  lose  sight  of  those  present  an  instant  before.  The  sailor  who  is  driven  before  the  wind, 
finds  himself,  every  morning,  apparently  in  the  same  place  as  the  evening  previous — in  the 
centre  of  a  circular  lake  bounded  by  the  line  made  by  the  sky  and  the  sea. 

Within  these  limits,  whether  the  observer  is  fixed  or  in  motion,  this  ex- 
"Within  these  tended  whole  can  be  divided  according  to  the  convenience  or  the  caprice  of 
aswu  pleaseT^ '  tlie  percipient.  Nature  has  given  fixed  or  moving  boundary  lines,  by  the 

various  properties  of  the  undivided  and  separable,  of  the  stationary  and 
moving  objects  with  which  she  fills  every  visible  scene.  The  objects  within  the  reach  of  the 
hand  and  the  direct  inspection  of  the  eye,  we  measure  by  selecting  some  one  as  a  unit,  in  the 
manner  explained.  Those  beyond  these  bounds,  we  measure  in  a  similar  way,  with  this  differ- 
ence only,  that  the  material  measured,  and  the  standard  by  which  it  is  measured,  are  furnished 
by  the  imagination  only,  working  upon  the  suggestions  or  occasions  which  perceived  objects 
furnish.  We  seem  to  perceive  the  real  height  of  the  lofty  tree  that  shoots  up  from  the  hori- 
zon against  the  sky,  while  it  is  but  a  mote  to  the  eye  ;  we  think  we  perceive  the  width  of  the 
stream  that  threads  the  distant  meadow  with  a  silvery  line,  but  these  estimates  are  possible 
only,  by  the  aid  of  the  picture-making  power,  that  brings  them  by  the  side  of  the  tree  under 
which  we  stand,  or  upon  the  margin  of  the  stream  where  we  sit.  We  have  already  learned, 
in  considering  the  acquired  perceptions,  that  it  is  only  by  the  aid  of  the  imagination  that  we 
supply  the  defects  of  the  senses,  and  interpret  their  indications. 

8  564.    Beyond  the  limits  of  actual  perception  we  are  de* 

Beyond  these  we     '  , 

use  the  imagina-  pendent  upon  the  imagination  alone  for  our  estimates  of 
distance  and  size.  These  estimates,  within  and  beyond  the 
reach  of  experience,  vary  with  the  actual  knowledge  which  we  have  gained 
of  such  objects  by  inspection  and  recall  by  the  memory,  and  with  Die 
practice  which  we  have  gained  by  the  frequent  application  of  definite 
standards  by  the  representative  power.  The  adult  surpasses  the  child 
immeasurably  in  this  power.  So  does  the  man  of  various  observation  and 
of  disciplined  powers  excel  the  man  of  limited  knowledge  and  of  untrained 
habits  ;  so  most  strikingly  does  the  modern,  instructed  and  taught  as  he 
is,  present  a  very  striking  contrast  to  the  wisest  of  the  ancients. 

The  child,  uninformed  and  immature,  has  very  scanty  materials  with  which 
Hrw  the  child  to  Q\\  Up  or  extend  the  background  of  the  scene  that  is  within  reach  of  its 
objects.  .  perceptions,  and  but  little  interest  to  excite  to  their  use.  Hence  its  esti- 

mates of  the  place,  distance,  and  size  of  the  objects  that  are  remote  from  its 
reach,  uninteresting  to  its  feelings,  or  unfamiliar  to  its  handling,  are  singularly  confused, 
capricious,  and  uncertain. 

A  child  between  three  and  four  years  old,  of  no  inferior  intelligence,  and  of  good  oppor 


§565.  MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I    TIME   AND    SPACE.  541 

.^unities  for  instruction  and  thought,  was  once  asked  how  far  distant  the  sun  sets,  and  answered 
promptly,  In  the  next  field.  The  answer  expressed  the  first  impressions  of  every  child,  and 
3learly  illustrates  the  little  exercise  to  which  the  childish  imagination  is  disciplined  in  the  way 
of  filling  the  interval  that  lies  between  its  home  and  the  visible  horizon.  This  child  had 
walked  and  driven  for  miles  in  every  direction  from  its  home,  and  would  have  remembered, 
and  declared  if  prompted  by  a  leading  question,  that  all  the  roadways  along  which  it  had  gone 
were  bordered  by  adjacent  houses,  fields,  and  gardens,  like  those  in  sight ;  but  it  had  never 
learned  familiarly  to  think  of  these  as  filling  up  the  space,  or  to  estimate  their  relative  dimen- 
sions. Beyond  the  bounds  that  shut  in  the  nearest  and  the  most  familiar  objects,  its  imagi- 
nation had  rarely  acted,  and  all  the  wide  universe  without  was  to  its  fancy  and  its  judgment 
almost  a  blank.  In  the  same  way  we  account  for  the  incapacity  of  a  child  to  conceive  intelli- 
gently the  length  of  a  road  or  the  extent  of  a  journey. 

Very  like  the  immature  child  is  the  uncultivated  man,  especially  if  such  an 
The  uncultiva-  one  'IS  fixe<^>  by  his  habits  of  life,  to  a  single  narrow  valley  or  a  limited  range 
ted  man.  of  travel.  Every  thing  beyond  is  confused  and  unmeasured.  The  horizon  of 

his  actual  perceptions,  or  the  slightly  enlarged  horizon  of  his  expeditions  for 
hunting  and  war,  includes  all  that  he  knows  or  soberly  imagines.  He  may  at  times  fill  the 
blank  vacuity  beyond  with  objects  that  are  monstrous,  horrid,  and  grotesque — objects  that  are 
terrific  to  his  unintelligent  fears,  or  are  bewildering  to  his  insane  expectations ;  but  he  fixea 
few  or  none  which  hold  definite  or  rational  relations  to  others  as  measures  or  bounds.  The 
spatial  world  formed  by  both  child  and  savage,  is  well  represented  by  the  rude  maps  of  the 
early  geographers,  in  which  the  countries  actually  traversed  are  drawn  with  a  certain  degree 
of  definiteness,  though  the  near  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  remote ;  while  all  beyond  is  a 
blank  bounded  by  an  uncertain  line,  along  which  uncouth  monsters  are  placed,  or  the  unknown 
and  measureless  water  or  desert  shuts  in  the  picture. 

If  the  child  or  the  savage  attempt  to  picture  and  measure  the  regions  of  the  sky,  or  to 
estimate  the  size  and  distance  of  the  heavenly  bodies,  the  processes  are  still  more  uncertain 
and  the  results  more  indefinite  and  vague.  Both  soon  tire  of  repeating  any  familiar  object 
selected  as  a  measure.  They  neither  think  nor  care  how  large  are  the  sun  and  the  stars,  or  how 
many  are  the  steps,  the  miles,  or  leagues,  which  would  be  required  to  reach  them.  Thus  and 
thus  only  can  we  explain  the  very  inadequate  conceptions  on  these  subjects  which  the  early 
astronomers  accepted  and  taught. 

,    §  565.    Our  conceptions  and  measures  of  time-objects,  like 

Measures    of     °  K  J 

time-objects  im-  those  of  space-objects,  are  largely  the  work  of  the  representa- 
tive faculty.  The  passing  and  present  acts  and  states  of  our 
own  spirits,  and  the  coincident  operations  and  phenomena  of  the  material 
world  are  the  only  time-objects  of  which  we  have  direct  cognizance. 
Past  objects  are  gone.  Future  objects  do  not  yet  exist.  Present  objects 
alone  directly  confront  the  mind.  The  past  must  be  recalled  by  memory, 
the  future  must  be  anticipated  in  the  imagination,  so  as  with  the  present 
to  complete  the  series  of  time-objects. 

The  standards  by  which  we  measure  these  objects,  whether  present, 
past,  or  future,  are  of  two  descriptions.  They  are  taken  from  the  material 
world,  in  the  motions  of  certain  objects  which  are  assumed  to  be  uniform, 
or  from  the  world  of  spirit  in  some  longer  or  shorter  period  of  our  own 
existence,  which,  with  the  feelings  attending  it,  is  made  the  standard, 
We  may  distinguish  these  standards  of  space  and  time  as  definite  and  in- 
definite. 


548  THE   HUMAN   rOTELLEOT.  §  560 

To  measure  past  events,  we  must  be  able  to  recal1  them  in  their  order,  so 

Different  uipaci-    as  to  have  before  us  the  material  which  we  are  to  estimate.     But  men  diffei 

tics  in  uirtGrcnt 

OXPU.  greatly  in  the  capacity  to  revive  past  objects  in  their  fuliiesa  and  order.     If 

the  capacity  to  recall  with  success  be  possessed,  time  and  effort  must  be  added 
that  any  past  series  may  be  restored,  so  as  to  be  estimated  or  measured.  Some  self-discipline 
and  practice  are  required  that  a  measure  may  be  prepared  from  our  inner  experience  which 
shall  be  ready  for  use,  and  also  that  the  same  standard  shall  be  applied  on  the  occasions  required, 

Differences  in  both  these  particulars  in  different  persons,  and  in  the  same 
Differences  in  persons  at  different  times,  account  for  the  singular  differences  which  are 
time.  notorious  in  our  estimates  of  time.  No  fact  is  more  generally  accepted,  than 

that  two  series  of  events  may  occupy  the  same  length  of  time  as  measured 
by  the  clock,  and  may  seem  to  vary  very  greatly  from  one  another  as  measured  by  the  mind, 
If  we  are  waiting  impatiently  for  the  arrival  of  a  friend  or  of  a  railway  train — if  we  are 
listening  to  a  tiresome  conversation  or  a  tedious  lecture,  the  time  seems  very  long.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  the  conversation  is  interesting,  or  the  pastime  is  absorbing,  the  time  flies  swiftly 
along.  The  child  cannot  believe  that  the  hour  has  come  which  calls  him  from  his  play,  to 
school  or  to  bed.  A  trip  by  a  steamer  seems  much  longer  than  a  trip  by  railway,  when  the 
time  is  the  same.  Each  are  sensibly  shortened  if  the  tedium  is  beguiled  by  spirited  conver- 
sation. A  week  spent  in  the  daily  routine  of  regular  employment,  goes  quickly  by ;  while  a 
week  of  constant  travelling,  filled  up  by  a  rapid  succession  of  exciting  objects,  often  seems 
surprisingly  long.  The  years  of  childhood  glide  slowly  away.  Every  day  and  every  month 
stretches  to  an  interminable  length,  because  our  present  enjoyment  brings  no  disappointment, 
and  because  it  stands  between  us  and  some  future  enjoyment  which  the  mind  is  impatient  to 
grasp.  The  years  of  our  busy  middle  life  slip  hastily  by,  though  we  would  fain  delay  then 
flight,  because  we  are  too  busy  to  measure  the  passing  years. 

The  estimates  which  we  make  in  dreams  of  both  space  and  time,  are  singu- 
Estimates  of  larly  capricious.  They  strikingly  illustrate  and  enforce  the  truth,  that  these 
•^'dreanS  *  '  estimates  depend  on  the  subjective  judgment  of  the  soul,  and  these  judgments 

are  capable  of  extraordinary  variations,  from  merely  accidental  causes.  A 
dream  whicn  takes  but  a  few  minutes,  suffices  for  a  long  journey  or  a  tedious  voyage,  for  a 
protracted  entertainment  or  a  prolonged  and  painful  contest.  We  seem  to  ourselves  to  pass 
through  weary  hours  of  prolonged  suspense,  to  experience  manifold  struggles  and  disappoint- 
ments, to  climb  lofty  eminences  by  a  series  of  vain  efforts,  to  apply  ourselves  again  and  again 
to  fruitless  tasks,  and  the  time  which  we  spend  and  the  spaces  which  we  traverse  are  stretched 
almost  to  infinitude. 

Measurements  §  566.  The  constructions  and  measurements  of  space  and  time 
nu^ber^alTd  which  we  have  thus  far  considered,  are  not  to  be  confounded 
magnitude.  -with  those  which  involve  the  relations  of  number  and  mag- 
aitude.  They  are  made  for  practical  use  and  convenience,  and  rest 
ipon  those  comparisons  of  one  series  of  objects  with  another  which  give 
.general  impressions  of  their  time  or  space  relations,  or  the  application 
}f  some  familiar  object  or  series  as  a  standard  by  which  to  measure  one 
that  is  freshly  presented.  They  do  not  involve  any  great  precision  or 
an  exact  record.  In  the  most  of  these  cases,  the  relations  of  time  and  space 
are  not  the  sole,  perhaps  not  the  prominent  matter  of  interest.  The  mind 
judges  the  time  spent  in  one  occupation  was  about  as  long  as  the  tim« 
Bpent  in  another.  It  took  me  about  as  long,  or  twice  or  half  as  long,  as  tc 
do  this  or  that  daily  duty.  The  distance  from  A  to  B  is  equal  to  the 


§566  MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I   TIME  AND  SPACE.  548 

distance  from  C  to  D,  or  it  may  be  greater  or  less.  But  when  we  say 
London  is  3  to  4,000  miles  from  New  York,  or  the  moon  is  238,650  milea 
distant  from  the  earth ;  or  Washington  and  Napoleon  were  born  and  died 
eo  many  years  after  the  birth  of  our  Lord,  we  apply  measurements  of  a 
different  character.  These  are  what  we  have  styled  the  definite  standards 
of  both  space  and  time. 

It  is  interesting  to  notice,  in  this  connection,  the  history  of  the  progress  made  by  the 
human  race  in  the  standards  of  both  time  and  space.  The  savage  measures  time  by  the  bud- 
ding of  the  oak,  or  the  return  and  departure  of  birds  or  other  game.  By  and  by  he  marks 
the  coming  and  going  of  the  moon.  Then  rude  devices  like  the  clepsydra  or  the  sand-dial  are 
introduced.  Last  of  all,  the  scientific  observer  employs  the  chronometer  and  the  astronomical 
clock. 

So,  in  standards  of  length,  the  mind  has  passed  from  the  use  of  parts  of  the  body,  to 
measurements  by  the  aid  of  the  pendulum,  or  a  portion  of  a  circle  of  the  earth,  in  order  to 
find  an  accurate  and  trustworthy  standard. 

The  first  question  that  presents  itself  in  respect  to  these  standards  is,  What  are  the 
conceptions  of  a  minute,  an  hour,  a  day,  a  year,  a  yard,  a  rod,  or  a  mile,  which,  in  such  cases,  we 
speak  of  so  freely  and  apply  so  readily  ?  Are  they  images  or  concepts  ?  Are  they  individual 
or  general,  or  something  between  the  two  ?  We  answer,  They  are  both  images  and  concepts, 
or  imaged  concepts,  and  are  the  products  of  both  imagination  and  of  thought.  So  far  as 
they  are  products  of  the  imagination  or  the  representative  power,  they  fall  within  the  present 
section. 

Standards  of  both  space  and  time  are  images  or  representations  of  material 
Whence  stand-  objects.  N"o  images  can  be  formed  of  space  or  time  as  such,  or  of  what  are 
derived.  sometimes  called  pure  or  empty  space  and  time,  but  only  of  those  objects  or 

events  which  hold  a  relation  to  either  or  to  both.  When  these  are  pictured 
or  imaged,  they  carry  with  them  those  relations  which  the  originals  necessarily  involve,  and 
from  which  they  cannot  be  severed  in  reality  or  in  thought  (§  424). 

Objects  and  events  can  be  represented  or  pictured  with  the  greatest  possible 
How  they  axe  fulness  or  vagueness.  If  not  really  present,  they  can  never  equal  those  whicfc 
pictured.  are  subjects  of  actual  experience.  They  can  rise  very  nearly  to  that  freshness 

and  fulness  which  present  perception  and  immediate  consciousness  can  alone 
apprehend,  or  they  can  fade  and  sink  away  to  that  dimness  which  simply  suggests  that  certain 
portions  of  space  and  time  are  covered  or  occupied  by  them.  In  forming  these  representations 
of  pure  and  empty  space  and  time,  the  mind  has  only  to  fix  its  limits  nearer  or  more  remotely, 
more  widely  or  closely,  and  leave  the  interval  between  wholly  unoccupied  by  either  objects  or 
events.  As  in  forming  images  of  objects  actually  perceived  or  experienced,  it  can  make  them 
full  or  scanty,  vivid  or  faint,  so  it  can  leave  unpictured  every  thing  except  the  bounding  limits 
themselves,  and  these  it  can  picture  with  only  the  distinctness  required  to  suggest  the  space 
and  time  between.  But  even  in  all  these  cases  some  definite  and  individual  object  is  imaged. 
But  with  the  object  itself,  as  such,  the  mind  is  little  concerned.  It  only  employs  and  cares 
for  it  as  it  suggests  the  space  and  time  to  which  it  is  related.  Thus,  for  a  standard  of  space, 
the  words  yard,  or  rod,  or  mile,  may  call  up  some  visible  or  tangible  object  most  indefinitely 
pictured,  or  with  the  words,  a  minute,  an  hour,  a  day,  or  year,  some  series  of  events  that  have 
"equired  a  remembered  period,  or  a  part  of  such  a  period.  Both  these  are  pictured,  not  for 
their  own  sake,  but  for  the  sake  of  the  time  or  space  which  they  suggest.  But  these  standards 
are  concepts  as  well  as  images,  and  they  cannot  be  completely  understood,  even  as  images,  till 
ihey  are  considered  also  as  concepts.  This  leads  us  to  the  next  topic. 


THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  |  568 

VI.  Of  space  and  time  objects  as  Generalized ;  or  the  Concepts  of  tht 
relations  of  objects  to  time  and  space. 

HOW  the  reia-  §  56^  Different  individual  objects  and  events  hold  similai 
andtim°ef  objects  relati°ns  to  both  space  and  time,  whether  they  are  presented 
are  generalized.  ^o  sense  and  consciousness,  or  are  represented  to  the  imagina- 
tion. Space-objects  may  be  alike  in  relative  position,  distance,  form,  and 
size,  etc.,  Time  objects  maybe  alike  in  coexistence,  in  antecedence  or  sub- 
sequence, in  their  relative  place  in  the  order  of  occurrence,  and  in  the  inter- 
vals by  which  they  are  separated  from  one  another  or  from  any  other 
event.  The  mutual  relations  which  exist  between  time  and  space  objects 
may  also  be  common  to  any  number  of  both  classes.  These  relations  are  aa 
readily  generalized  as  are  the  attributes  of  material  or  spiritual  things.  It 
is  as  easy  to  generalize  the  forms  and  sizes  of  objects  as  their  color  or  their 
taste,  the  beforeness  and  afterness  of  a  spiritual  act,  as  its  quality  as  an  act 
of  knowledge  or  of  feeling. 

There  is  this  difference :  these  relations  are  in  their  nature  incapable  of  being  directly 
picturable  to  the  imagination,  as  are  the  properties  of  matter  and  spirit.  In  order  to  represent 
them  at  all,  we  must  first  picture  the  objects  which  hold  them,  and  so  recall  or  suggest  the 
relations  themselves.  As  concepts  these  generalized  products  are  as  easily  formed  and  com 
prehended  as  any  other  concepts.  They  are  peculiar  only  in  the  relations  which  they  bear  to 
the  individual  things  and  events  of  which  they  are  affirmed,  and  to  the  representations  of  those 
things  and  events  by  which  the  concepts  are  imaged. 

§  568.    The  words  by  which  these  relations  are  named  and 

These   relations     ,  . 

individual  and  known,  are  as  truly  generic  as  the  terms  usually  caller 
common.  It  is  true,  these  terms  are  usually  called  terms  oi 
relation,  but  this  makes  no  difference  with  their  character.  All  of  them,  it 
is  true,  have  a  more  or  less  direct  relation  to  an  individual  place  and  time, 
and  seem  therefore  to  be  less  general  than  the  other  appellatives  ;  but  they 
are  all  capable  of  being  equally  applicable  to  many  individual  objects,  and 
hence  are  as  truly  generic  as  they.  We  cannot  say  here,  there,  now,  be- 
fore and  after,  without  implying  that  an  individual  observer  occupying  an 
individual  place  at  an  individual  portion  of  time  apprehends  the  object  in 
this  very  relation,  but  it  is  possible  that  many  objects  at  different  times 
may  be  here  or  there,  and  now  and  then,  before  and  after,  i.  e.}  at  the  same 
time  in  different  places.  Hence  the  hereness  and  thereness,  the  nowness,  the 
beforeness  and  the  afterness  may  all  be  common  to  many  individuals,  and 
like  sensible  or  spiritual  qualities  may  be  affirmed  or  predicated  of  all. 
Hence  these  objects  may  be  grouped  under,  or  classified  by  means  of  these 
general  relations.  Hence  the  terms  which  denote  them,  take  their  place 
side  by  side  with  the  other  common  terms  with  which  we  are  more  familiar. 
Very  many  adjectives  of  time,  as  prior,  later,  present,  past,  and.  fitture,  and 
of  space,  as  long,  short,  high,  deep,  and  broad,  and  of  form,  as  circular 
triangular,  square,  spherical,  and  conical,  and  of  motion,  as  swift,  slow,  etc. 


§569.  MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I    TIME    AND   SPACE.  551 

will   occur  to   any  thoughtful   mind   as  belonging   to   these  classes  of 
words. 

All  these  classes  of  terms,  like  all  other  notion  words,  require  some  image  to  explain  and 
illustrate  them  to  the  mind.  But  they  are  peculiar  hi  this,  that  any  object  whatever  will  serv« 
to  image  some  of  these  terms,  and  a  very  large  class  of  objects  will  serve  to  illustrate  others. 
Every  object  in  nature  and  in  spirit  has  some  relation  to  time  and  space,  and  hence  it  is  indif- 
ferent what  one  is  cited  to  exemplify  these  universal  relations.  Other  time  and  space  relations, 
though  not  universal,  are  much  more  extensive  than  most  of  the  usually  recognized  appella- 
tives.  It  i?  much  easier  to  recall  an  example  of  an  event  that  is  early  or  late,  or,  an  object 
that  is  spherical  or  oval,  than  of  the  majority  of  the  common  terms  that  are  most  frequently 
used. 

VII.  Of  Mathematical  Quantity  ;  the  process  by  which  its  concepts  are 
evolved,  and  their  relation  to  time  and  space. 

TWO  classes  of  §  ^^'  These  concepts  naturally  divide  themselves  into  two 
mncee?satical  classes,  the  concepts  of  magnitude  and  the  concepts  of  num- 
ber, or  the  concepts  which  are  related  severally  to  space,  and 
time.  We  begin  with  those  which  imply  the  existence  of  space,  as  being 
the  most  easily  explained  and  understood ;  i.  e.,  with  geometrical  concepts 
or  concepts  of  pure  magnitude. 

Of  these  the  most  familiar  are  the  point,  the  line,  the  surface, 
cai  concepts  are    the  triangle,  the  square,  the  rectangle,  the  rhomboid,  the  solid, 
the  cube,  the  sphere,  etc. 

These  terms  stand  for  both  images  and  concepts,  in  other  words  for 
the  products  of  the  imagination  and  of  thought.  As  images  they  are 
individual,  as  concepts  they  are  general.  The  representative  imagination 
recalls  sensible  objects  and  phenomena  with  their  relations  to  both  space 
and  time.  It  is  impossible  to  view  the  one  and  omit  the  other. 

The  creative  imagination  idealizes  not  only  the  sensible  and  spiritual  properties  of  these 
objects  and  phenomena  but  it  idealizes  their  space  and  time  relations,  §  353.  It  transforms  the 
perceptible  edge  with  its  actual  breadth  and  ragged  outline  into  the  ideal  line  which  has  neither 
breadth  nor  undulation.  It  smooths  the  undulating  surface  into  an  evenly  lying  geometrical 
superficies.  In  the  same  way  it  refines  the  blunted  corner  of  a  die  or  cubical  block  into  the 
mathematical  point  which  is  imagined  as  having  place  but  no  extent  in  any  direction.  These 
relations  cannot  themselves  be  thus  imaged  without  the  aid  of  some  concrete  object,  but  the 
object  itself  can  be  imaged  with  these  relations  thus  idealized  and  refined.  When  the  attention 
is  withdrawn  from  the  object  related  and  occupied  with  the  relation  in  question  thus 
idealized,  the  relation  itself  is  said  to  be  imaged.  This  act  of  fixing  the  attention  is  an  act 
of  analysis,  preliminary  to  the  act  of  generalization.  But  when  the  relation  is  generalized, 
we  have  a  concept  in  place  of  an  image,  holding  the  same  relation  to  the  concrete  and  indi- 
vidual which  belongs  to  any  other  concept.  That  is,  these  concepts  need  to  be  imaged  and 
illustrated  by  concrete  objects  as  truly  as  do  others.  Their  import  can  be  understood  and 
their  validity  established  only  by  this  process.  As  has  already  been  explained,  §  453,  theii 
superior  clearness  and  intelligibility  as  the  materials  for  definition  and  deduction  can  be 
accounted  for  by  the  readiness  with  which  the  mind  can  recur  to  their  import  by  citing  some 
Individual  example,  and  can  be  sure  that  it  has  considered  every  one  of  its  possible  relations. 


552  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §571 

§  570.  All  the  geometrical  conceptions  are  dependent  upon 
Msum  lions***  tne  a8811111?*!011  OI*  tne  space-relation  of  objects.  Without 

these  space-relations  they  have  no  meaning.  They  presup- 
pose the  belief  in  these  space-relations,  as  actually  belonging  to  every 
material  existence.  They  rest  upon  the  belief  in  that  absolute  and  infinite 
space  which  limited  space  presupposes  and  involves.  Space  with  the  space- 
relations  of  objects,  is  the  ever -assumed  background  upon  which  all 
geometrical  constructions  are  projected,  and  over  against  which  all  its 
processes  are  interpreted.  Its  presence  is  not  expressed  in  language,  but 
it  is  constantly  recognized  by  the  mind  as  essential  to  the  intelligibleness 
and  the  application  of  the  definition,  and  proof.  A  line,  a  point,  etc.,  are 
no-things,  they  are  incomplete  and  impossible  conceptions  except  as  space 
is  supposed  and  supplied  by  the  mind  as  that  in  and  by  means  of  which 
they  can  be  constructed  and  conceived.  These  truths  are  too  obvious  to 
need  further  proof  or  illustration. 

The  vouchers  for  the  reality  and  the  validity  of  these  conceptions  are  to  be 
Postulates  of  found  iu  the  mind's  own  power  to  construct  them.  The  mind  knows  that  it 
quant™  C *  r  J  °al  can  construct  these  concepts,  and  knows  what  they  are  when  constructed. 

Geometry  postulates  of  every  student  that  he  should  make  them  for  himself 
The  language  of  these  if,  '•''draw  a  line"  "conceive  or  construct  a  plane"  "think  of  a 
point"  It  lays  the  foundations  for  its  reasonings  in  these  postulates.  It  defines  the  mean- 
ing of  these  constructions  by  analyzing  their  relations  to  one  another  and  to  the  space 
to  which  they  all  have  a  common  relation.  It  illustrates,  or  as  we  usually  say,  demon- 
strates the  relations  unknown  before  by  referring  to  new  constructions  made  concrete  in  some 
material  substance,  for  example,  by  a  cube  or  sphere,  a  cone,  a  dot,  a  chalk  line,  a  rough  surface 
on  blackboard,  or  paper  included  by  marks — which  are  no  mathematical  lines  but  serve 
to  represent  them  and  hold  the  attention  to  what  they  represent.  In  the  so-called  demonstra- 
tion of  Geometry  one  figure  is  supposed  to  be  drawn  in  connection  with  another.  Additional 
figures  are  placed  by  the  side  of  those  already  constructed,  or  those  already  drawn  are  divided 
so  as  to  enable  the  mind  to  bring  into  comparison  figures  that  had  been  inaccessible  and 
incommensurable.  But  as  it  is  with  the  original  and  simpler  definitions  or  postulates  so  is  it 
with  these  complex  constructions.  Space  is  supposed  as  the  necessary  attendant  of  each  and 
of  all,  making  it  possible  to  construct  them  and  to  evolve  the  new  relations  which  the  mind 
discerns  by  skilfully  preparing  and  combining  the  required  figures.  As  has  already  been 
shown,  §  457,  the  nerve  and  force  of  the  geometrical  demonstration  rests  more  upon  these  suces- 
Bive  intuitions  than  upon  that  element  in  it  which  is  properly  deductive. 

8571.   The  concepts  of  number  are  conditioned  upon  certain 

Conditions  of  the     °  ^ 

concepts  of  num-  relations  of  objects  and  phenomena  to  time.  Objects  to  be 
capable  of  number  must  be  contemplated  in  a  continued 
series.  This  only  is  possible  by  the  known  and  recognized  relation  of 
such  objects  to  the  mind's  continued  or  sustained  action  as  it  contemplates 
them  in  succession.  They  must  also  be  viewed  reciprocally  as  wholes  and 
parts.  This  is  possible  only  as  the  mind  gathers  objects  viewed  as 
arranged  in  a  series  into  a  group  which  it  breaks  up  into  parts,  reuniting 
these  parts  with  each  other  at  its  will,  making  its  units  larger  01  smaller 
according  to  its  caprice.  To  both  these  relations  time  is  the  necessar* 


§572  MATHEMATICAL    RELATIONS  I    TIME   AND   SPACE.  553 

condition,  to  the  continued  subjective  act  of  the  mind  in  connecting 
objects  into  a  series,  and  to  the  recalling  of  them  as  thus  connected,  so  that 
they  may  be  arranged  and  grouped  as  wholes  and  parts  by  the  successive 
additions  of  units. 

It  has  been  already  shown,  what  it  is  to  number  or  count,  and  that 
to  the  act  of  counting,  time  must  be  assumed  as  both  the  subjective  and 
objective  condition.  The  relations  by  which  objects  are  viewed  or 
connected  in  the  act  of  counting  when  abstracted,  generalized,  imaged 
and  symbolized,  are  the  relations  of  number. 

These  relations  can  be  applied  to  any  objects  whatever — to  material  objects,  to 
number  can  be  spiritual  objects,  to  acts  or  states  of  the  mind  itself,  to  the  very  acts  of  the 
any  ^ects.  b  ?  mind  in  numbermg>  m  short,  to  any  thing  which  can  become  an  object  of  direct 

or  reflex  cognition.  Any  series  of  objects  can  be  used  as  the  symbols  or  im- 
ages of  number.  We  may  use  objects  most  unlike  one  another,  contemplating  them  only  in  their 
numerical  relations,  or  we  may  select  those  very  nearly  alike,  and  presenting  so  few  points  or 
features  of  interest  as  not  readily  to  distract  the  mind  from  the  single  relations  conditioned  by 
time.  Thus  a  row  of  marbles,  of  kernels  of  gram,  or  a  series  of  marks  is  usually  selected.  Such  ob- 
jects c;\n  be  readily  interchanged  with  one  another,  and  therefore  suggest  little  more  than  their 
numerical  relations.  For  convenience  of  recording  and  recalling  the  results  of  the  processes 
of  counting,  arbitrary  symbols  have  been  selected.  Thus,  for  two  objects  made  one  by  a  single 
addition,  we  employ  the  symbol  of  two  marks,  as  in  the  Roman  system,  II,  later,  the  Arabic 
character  2 ;  then  III,  3  ;  then,  instead  of  five  marks  we  use  V  Rom.  and  5  Ar.;  instead  of  four 
and  six,  V  diminished  by  1  going  before,  and  increased  by  1  following,  or  the  Arabic  characters, 
5  and  6,  etc.,  etc. 

§572.    The  principal  concepts  of  number  are  the  unit,  the 

The    principal  _._r  _. 

concepts  of  sum,  the  difference,  trie  multiple,  the  divisor  and  the  ratio. 
For  our  purposes  these  need  not  be  separately  and  carefully 
defined.  It  is  sufficient  for  us  to  notice  that  they  stand  for  the  relations 
of  objects  as  viewed  in  a  continued  series,  t.  e.,  contemplated  as  parts  that 
can  be  augmented  by  a  constant  addition,  or  repeated  one  by  one  or 
group  by  group  ;  or,  again,  as  a  whole  that  can  be  diminished  by  a  constant 
subtraction,  or  be  separated  into  equal  parts  that  are  themselves  more  or 
.ess  numerous. 

These  concepts  cannot  be  so  readily  defined  as  they  can  be  imaged  and  exemplified.  To 
explain  and  illustrate  what  they  are  we  must  take  objects  and  count  them.  Their  meaning  ia 
originally  taught  and  repeatedly  explained  by  the  directions,  do  so  and  so  with  them,  take  ob- 
jects and  count  them  thus  and  thus.  In  other  words,  they  rest  upon  postulates  as  truly  as  do 
the  concepts  of  geometry.  They  assume  that  the  mind  can  perform  certain  thought-processes 
tvhich  result  in  certain  thought-products.  The  psychological  conditions  of  these  processes  are 
distinguished  objects,  whether  material  or  spiritual.  Their  logical  condition  is  the  reality  of 
time-relations,  and  of  tune  itself  as  making  these  relations  possible.  That  number  depends 
upon  and  implies  time,  is  obvious  still  further,  from  the  language  which  we  continually  use  in 
our  definitions  and  analyses.  We  say,  add  this  so  many  times  ;  ten  taken  twice,  i.  e.  two  times  ten, 
is  twenty ;  ten  divided  one  time  by  five,  or  diminished  once  by  three,  is  respectively  two  and 
seven. 


654  THE    HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §574 

8  573.    The  application  of  number  to  magnitude,  or  of  the 

The  application     '  . 

of  Dumber  to  concepts  of  discrete  to  those  of  continuous  quantity,  depends 
on  the  mutual  relations  of  time  and  space  objects  which  have 
already  been  explained,  §  557.  If  number  can  be  applied  to  the  parts  of 
space  and  time  in  the  concrete,  so  that  one  can  measure  the  other,  then  the 
concepts  of  number  can  be  applied  to  the  concepts  of  magnitude,  for  both 
of  these  are  resolved  into  and  explained  by  their  origin  in  individual  time 
and  space  objects.  We  take  any  portion  of  space  as  a  whole,  we  divide  it 
into  parts,  we  number  these  parts,  we  discern  ratios  between  them.  We 
express  the  powers  of  curves  by  their  equivalent  formulae  of  lines,  as  symbo- 
lized by  numbers,  creating  all  those  conceptions  and  performing  those  pro- 
cesses which  modern  analysis  has  discovered  and  applied. 

VIII.  Of  the  application  of  mathematical  conceptions  to  Material 
phenomena, 

Why,  and  how    8  574.    Thus  far  we  have  considered  the  pure  mathematics. 

far    mathemati-      "  A 

cai  concepts  are    Pure  geometry  seems  to  deal  only  with  ideal  constructions 

applicable  to  ma-     .  ° 

teriai  objects.  m  ideal  space,  and  pure  arithmetic  and  algebra  with  ideal 
concepts  conditioned  by  abstract  or  ideal  Time.  How  can  it  be  possible 
to  apply  these  ideal  creations  to  material  things  and  sensible  phe- 
nomena? To  this  general  question  we  give  the  folio  wing  general  answer. 
These  concepts  of  number  and  magnitude,  are  all  generalized  from  the  in- 
dividual relations  of  concrete  objects  and  events  to  both  space  and  time. 
We  cannot  explain  or  understand  them  except  as  we  go  back  to  such  ob- 
jects and  find  them  realized  in  these.  In  the  order  of  time  and  acquisition 
we  know  applied  number  and  applied  magnitude  before  we  know  pure 
number  and  pure  magnitude.  The  latter  are  always  explained  by  the 
former. 

Moreover,  as  number  and  magnitude  are  in  a  certain  sense  idealized 
when  they  are  affirmed  of  concrete  objects,  and  the  mind  discerns  a  differ- 
ence between  the  ideal  and  the  real,  so  is  it  when  these  concepts  are  gener- 
alized and  the  inferences  from  them  are  reapplied  to  these  objects.  We 
do  not  expect  that  they  will  exactly  conform.  Certain  properties  of 
matter  were  necessarily  left  out  of  view  in  forming  such  concepts.  These 
must  all  be  considered  and  brought  into  view  to  modify  our  ideal  inferences. 
In  estimating  the  velocity  of  bodies  we  consider  them  as  capable  of  con- 
stant force  and  of  accelerated  motion,  the  force  being  manifested  in,  and 
estimated  by  motion.  When  we  compare  the  results  of  our  mathematical 
processes  we  do  not  find  that  they  hold  good.  Why  should  they  ?  GUI 
data  were  ideal.  They  assumed  what  rarely  if  ever  actually  occurs 
i.  e.,  a  force  entirely  constant  and  equable.  Or  if  this  were  real,  certak 
properties  or  attributes  of  moving  bodies  were  omitted  in  our  estimate  ot 
the  result,  e.  g.,  the  increase  of  resistance  with  the  increase  of  velocity. 


§575.  MATHEMATICAL    RELATIONS  I    TIME   AND    SPACE.  553 

In  Mechanics,  bodies  are  viewed  as  attracted  by  gravitation,  as  held  togethei 
Example  in  Me-  by  coliesion»  as  impelled  by  a  natural  or  artificial  agency,  as  capable  of  both 
chanics.  force  and  motion,  as  acquiring  and  losing  velocity.  But  gravitation,  in  these 

concepts,  is  idealized  as  a  constant  force  manifested  in  motion,  the  rapidity 
of  which  is  inversely  as  the  square  of  the  distance.  The  nature  of  gravity  itself  as  a  ma- 
terial agent,  is  not  considered,  nor  that  of  inertia;  nor  is  the  resistance  of  intervening  media, 
but  only  the  simple  fact  of  motion,  or  a  tendency  to  motion,  with  certain  constant  relations  to 
space  and  time.  In  like  manner  cohesion  is  conceived  as  manifested  in  the  phenomena  of  mo- 
tion. So  the  laws  and  properties  of  bodies  in  motion  and  pressure  are  expressed  by  space  and 
time  relations.  Whether  bodies  do  in  fact  move  or  tend  to  move  with  regularity  hi  these 
relations  so  that  their  motions  can  be  measured  and  computed,  are  facts  that  can  be  ascertained 
and  vouched  for  by  observation  and  induction  only. 

In  illustration  of  this   we  observe    that  Newton's   great  laws  hi    respect 

Newton's    great     to   the  causes  and  continuance   of  force   and    motion  are  all    generalized 
laws  of  Mechan- 
ics, observations  of  facts  of  sense  enforced  on  grounds  of  high  probability.     In 

other  words,  they  are  grounded  upon  induction.  These  laws  or  facts  being 
assumed,  we  reason  and  compute  with  respect  to  the  direction  and  rate  of  bodies  in  mo- 
tion, with  respect  to  the  pressure  and  weight  of  bodies  tending  to  move,  and  with  re- 
spect to  the  results  of  bodies  conspiring  together  in  motion,  just  as  we  can  reason  or  com- 
pute with  respect  to  a  sizeless  or  weightless  point  that  is  supposed  to  move  in  a  breadthlesa 
line.  That  is,  we  apply  to  these  material  objects  the  concepts,  relations  and  laws  of  the 
pure  mathematics.  But  when  we  compare  the  results  of  our  computations  and  demonstrations 
with  bodies  actually  existing  and  phenomena  actually  occurring,  we  find  that  the  two  do  not  coin- 
cide. When  we  find  that  the  prophecy  given  by  the  demonstration  or  computation  is  not  fulfilled 
by  the  facts  of  the  velocity,  weight,  or  pressure  of  the  material  bodies  with  which  we  come  in 
contact,  we  account  for  the  discrepancy  by  those  elements  or  properties  which  we  were 
obliged  wholly  or  partially  to  disregard,  such  as  inertia,  resistance,  friction,  and  the  like.  In 
many  cases  these  are  so  unimportant  that  we  subject  them  to  no  estimate,  but  take  the  result 
as  exact  enough  for  our  purposes.  In  other  cases,  as  in  gunnery,  astronomy,  and  the  working 
of  machinery,  we  seek  to  express  the  value  and  effect  of  these  very  forces  in  mathematical 
concepts  and  formulae,  and  subject  them  to  mathematical  computation,  according  to  the  prin- 
ciples and  methods  which  had  been  applied  to  the  prime  forces. 

§  575.  As  all  material  objects  must  of  necessity  hold  relations  to  space,  and  all  material 
All  material  pb-  events  or  phenomena  relations  to  time,  and  as  our  perceptions  of  each  must  be  formed  in 
jects  susceptible  gome  order  of  tjme>  it  follows  that  they  all  are  susceptible  in  some  sort  of  mathematical 
relations.  relations.  The  tendency  to  seek  and  expect  regularity  and  uniformity  in  these  relations 

was  very  naturally  suggested  and  very  early  developed  to  the  thoughts  of  men.  It  was 
natural  to  believe  that  the  heavenly  bodies  which  moved,  or  appeared  to  move,  advanced  at  regular  rates  of 
speed  and  returned  to  their  starting  places  at  uniform  intervals  of  time.  This  expectation  prompted  the  ear- 
liest observations  of  astronomy,  and  its  conclusions  rest  on  the  inductions  which  this  speculation  excited. 
When  the  phenomena  of  matter  began  to  be  accounted  for  by  their  causes,  and  the  active  agents  or 
forces  of  nature  were  ascertained,  it  was  natural  to  believe  that  these  several  efforts  and  products 
were  obedient  to  and  dependent  upon  the  mathematical  relations  of  the  working  of  these  causes,  either 
their  quantity  of  matter,  the  rate  of  their  motion,  or  both  of  these  combined.  Exact  observations  and  care- 
ful experiments  confirmed  the  truth  of  these  anticipations  in  respect  to  many  phenomena,  and  in  this  way 
wae  evolved  what  are  called  the  laws  of  mechanics,  both  on  the  earth  and  in  the  heavens.  The  successful 
discovery  and  establishment  of  one  mathematical  law  after  another  by  Galileo,  Kepler,  Newton,  and  La- 
place, greatly  extended  the  domain  of  this  kind  of  knowledge. 

When  the  agents  or  elements  of  the  new  chemistry  were  discovered,  and  their  nature 
determined,  as  oxygen,  hydrogen,  etc.,  and  when  many  well-known  substances  were  de- 
*  *     composed  into  these  and  kindred  elements  ;  when,  also,  the  reality  of  chemical  union 
and  chemical  products  was  vindicated,  the  bright  thought  of  the  mathematical  Dal- 
ton  that   these   agents    unite  with  one    another  in  constant  weights  of  atoms  01 
yolumes  of  gas  at  the  same  temperature,  introduced  a  luminous  order  into  the  whole  sphere  of  chemical 
science,  and  subjected  its  wonderful  phenomena  to  the  control  of  definite  mathematical  laws.    Upon  4uil 


556  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §575, 

conjecture,  verified  into  a  discovery,  rests  the  precise  nomenclature  of  the  later  chemistry  and  its  compact 
and  almost  algebraic  symbolization. 

As  the  consequence  of  these  remarkable  discoveries  of  a  rigid  obedience  to  mathematical  law  in 
the  most  poetical  of  the  physical  sciences,  the  impression  was  confirmed  in  the  minds  of  many  students 
of  nature,  that  we  ought  to  expect  and  seek  for  the  observance  of  mathematical  relations  in  every  depart- 
ment of  matter,  even  in  those  material  conditions  on  which  psychological  phenomena  depend.  It  was 
early  discovered  that  the  quality  of  harmonious  musical  tones  emitted  from  a  stringed  instrument  de- 
pends on  the  length  of  the  strings  and  the  coincidence  of  their  vibrations  ;  that  when  the  string  on  being 
struck  springs  backward  and  forward  in  the  same  or  proportional  times,  the  sound  which  pleases  the  ear 
is  the  result,  while  if  the  times  or  fractions  of  times  in  these  vibrations  fail  to  correspond,  discordant  and 
displeasing  tones  are  certain  to  follow. 

By  and  by,  light,  or  the  material  agent  or  condition  of  vision,  was  subjected  to  scientific 
thought  and  inquiry.    It  was  first  conceived  to  be  a  material  substance,  the  particles 
tics     h*      d  °P~     of  whLich    Proceed  in-  right  lines    from  all  luminous    and  illuminated  bodies,   from 
which  lines  they  are  reflected  and  refracted  by  material  agents,  so  as  to  produce 
the  effects,  or,  more    exactly,  to  furnish  the  conditions   of  vision.    To  these  pro- 
cesses of  reflection  and  refraction,  mathematical  relations  and  formulae  were  at  once  applied  with  the  same 
propriety  as  they  had  been  previously  used  to  explain  the  motions  of  other  bodies.    As  the  phenomena 
corresponded  to  these  mathematical  formulae,  the  formulae  themselves  were  accepted  as  their  established 
lawa^  and  the  laws  of  light  as  expressed  by  mathematical  relations  took  their  place  among  the  laws  of  othei 
material  bodies.     When  the  theory  of  undulations  was  suggested,  and  the  phenomena  of  light  were  sup- 
posed to  admit  of  a  more  satisfactory  explanation  on  the  supposition  of  the  excitement  and  propagation  ol 
a  series  of  wave-like  motions  in  the  matter  of  light,  the  mathematical  relations  proper  to  such  undula- 
tions were  at  once  brought  into  requisition,  and  formulae  appropriate  to  undulating  motion  were  accepted  as 
expressing  the  laws  of  light. 

The  material  conditions  of  hearing,  or  the  agent  or  element  of  sound  was  tried  in  ita 

turn,  partly  because  of  the  laws  which  were  known  to  attend  those  vibrations  that  yield 

To    sound    and     musical  tones,  and  partly  because  of  the  success  which  had  been  achieved  in  explaining 

1CS'  by  mathematical  relations  the  phenomena  of  light.    The  theory  was  soon  accepted,  that 

these  relations  are  also  applicable  to  the  science  of  acoustics. 

Next  in  order  it  was  suggested,  that  the  sensations  of  heat  can  be  explained  upon  the 

theory  of  the  more  or  less  rapid  vibrations  of  the  particles  of  matter  that  are  occasioned 

To  heat.  by  the  subtle  agent  or  influence  which  is  called  caloric  or  heat,  if  its  vibrations  are 

subject  to  regular,   i.  e.,   to  mathematical  formulae  and  laws.    "Whether  heat  itself 

is  only  a  form  or  mode  of  motion,  so  that  the  phenomena  can  be  resolved  into  moving 

particles,  or  whether  these  regular  motions  are  only  the  attendant  signs  of  the  presence  of  a  specific  agent ; 

it  is  almost  an  accepted  truth  that  the  laws  of  heat  can  be  expressed  by  formulae  appropriate  to  motion. 

The  attempt  has  been  made  to  account  for  the  conditions  of  taste,  smell,  and  touch  by  the  vibration 
of  material  particles  in  objects  as  responded  to  by  the  vibrating  nervous  substance,  but  no  facts  or  laws 
have  yet  been  educed  which  give  to  this  attempt  more  than  the  semblance  of  success. 

The  suggestion  has  more  than  once  been  confidently  urged,  that  the  varying  phenomena 
The  doctrine  of  of  the  whole  Pflysical  universe  may  be  resolved  by  supposing  masses  or  particles  of  mat. 
the  correlation  ter  either  moving  or  having  a  tendency  to  move  according  to  fixed  mathematical  re- 
of  forces.  lations.  It  is  obvious,  as  has  already  been  observed,  that  every  material  object,  whether 

a  mass  or  a  molecule,  is  capable  of  holding  certain  relations  to  space  and  time,  and  is 
thereby  capable  of  those  relations  which  are  called  mathematical.  In  this  we  find  provision  for  the  possi- 
bility that  matter,  in  all  its  phenomena,  should  act  according  to  mathematical  formulae.  This  possibility 
was  conceived  by  one  of  the  earlier  philosophers  to  be  a  fact,  when  he  asserted  that  number  rules  all  things, 
and  that  harmony,  rhythm,  and  even  music  pertain  to  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  Plfeto,  in  a 
moment  of  sagacious  insight  reaching  almost  to  inspiration,  exclaimed,  God  geometrizes.  He  said  this  with 
confident  enthusiasm,  indeed,  yet  not  without  decisive  grounds  of  reason,  for  he  could  not  believe  it  possi- 
ble that  the  Great  Architect,  if  he  could  construct  and  move  the  universe  according  to  the  relations  and  laws 
made  possible  by  space  and  time,  should  avoid  doing  so.  To  establish  this  conjecture  into  a  fact  has  been 
the  slow  work  of  science  during  the  centuries  that  have  intervened,  and  its  work  is  not  yet  somplete. 

It  is  one  thing  to  believe,  and  even  to  prove  that  all  the  laws  of  matter  can  be  expressed 
in  mathematical  formulae,  and  another  to  ascertain  what  these  formulae  are.  It  was  easy  to 
believe  with  Pythagoras  that  number  must  rule  in  the  universe,  but  it  required  the  close  ob- 
servation and  experimenting  of  centuries  to  bring  the  human  mind  to  a  standpoint  from 
which  it  could  determine  the  numbers  according  to  which  chemical  elements  unite  and  are  de- 
composed. So  also  it  was  natural,  and  almost  necessary,  for  Plato  to  believe  that  the  Architect 
of  the  heavens  built  and  moves  the  celestial  bodies  by  geometrical  relations  and  laws ;  b  :t  it 


§  576.  MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I   TIME   AND   SPACE.  557 

required  the  observation  and  thought  of  Ptolemy,  Copernicus,  Galileo,  Kepler,  before  Newtoi 
and  Laplace  could  fix  the  laws  and  formulae  under  which  the  geometry  of  the  heavens  is  now 
comprehended  and  expressed. 

IX.    Of  the  application  of  mathematical  relations  to  Psychical  phe 
nomena. 

Application    of    §  ^^'  ^n  earnest  an(i  persistent  effort  has  been  made  to  subject  the  phenom- 

mathematics  to     ena  of  the  soul  to  mathematical  formulae  and  relations,  similar  to  those  which 

the  science  of  the 

soul;  arguments     hold  good  of  material  objects  and  agencies.     The  grounds  or  reasons  for  this 

attempt  are :  First.  Analogy  would  lead  us  to  suppose  that  the  media  by  which 
alone  material  phenomena  are  satisfactorily  explained,  may  hi  some  way  or  other  be  employed 
to  account  for  the  phenomena  of  the  soul.  Second.  There  is  a  large  and  important  class  of 
mental  phenomena  which  seem  to  act  according  to  the  general  methods  which  govern  the  phe 
nomena  of  matter.  Such  are  those  forces  which  regulate  the  return  of  objects  previously 
known,  as  in  memory  or  imagination.  These  objects,  or  the  mind's  impressions  of  them,  seem 
to  be  endowed  with  a  force  or  tendency  by  which  one  struggles  with  another  for  the  mastery, 
like  mechanical  or  chemical  forces,  and  the  question  which  shall  prevail  is  determined  by  the 
preponderant  strength  of  one  over  the  other.  Third.  If  we  cannot  apply  mathematical  relations 
to  psychological  facts,  then  we  cannot  reduce  these  facts  to  science  at  all.  Mathematical  re- 
lations are  the  essential  conditions  of  scientific  knowledge.  In  the  earlier  stages  of  scientific 
knowledge,  facts  explained  and  arranged  by  their  conditions  and  causes  might  be  called  science, 
but  it  is  not  so  at  present.  The  expression  of  laws  by  means  cf  mathematical  forinuUe,  in 
essential  to  constitute  any  species  of  knowledge  scientific. 

Over  against  these  considerations  may  be  urged  the  following,  first.  The 
Arguments  analogy  between  material  and  psychical  phenomena  is  too  remote  or  feeble  to 
v?ew?S  '  warrant  the  inference  in  question.  As  we  pass  from  the  one  to  the  other,  we 

are  more  impressed  by  the  differences  than  we  are  by  the  similarities  that 
present  themselves.  We  are  justified  in  the  inference  that  much  may  be  true  of  the  one  which 
cannot  hold  good  of  the  other.  Again,  we  observe  that  the  higher  psychical  phenomena, 
those  which  are  preeminently  and  distinctively  spiritual,  are  peculiar  in  this,  that  in  them  the 
soul  exerts  an  agency  which  is  self-active  and  free,  and  in  this  is  totally  unlike  those  which 
are  passive  and  inert.  In  these  higher  functions  there  seems  scarcely  to  be  a  feature  of  like- 
ness with  the  phenomena  to  which  mathematical  or  material  properties  belong.  Take  the 
act  itself  of  apprehending  mathematical  relations,  and  of  measuring  material  force  by  means 
of  them,  or  acts  such  as  those  by  which  Plato  or  Pythagoras  surmised,  and  Newton  or  Dalton 
demonstrated  that  these  relations  give  laws  to  the  material  universe.  Can  it  be  conceived  that 
such  an  act  should  itself  be  the  result  of  psychical  forces  acting  according  to  these  very  laws  ? 
If  so,  then  by  the  operation  of  forces  acting  according  to  mathematical  laws  are  evolved  the 
convictions  that  these  laws  hold  good  of  the  universe.  Second.  The  psychical  phenomena 
which  are  in  any  degree  analogous  to  those  material  forces  which  are  mathematically  deter- 
mined do  not  and  cannot  exist  or  move  in  space,  and  therefore  are  incapable  of  any  knowM.  or 
estimable  relations  to  space.  All  those  forces  which  are  measured  by  mathematical  relations 
are  spatial  in  their  action.  It  is  impossible  that  mental  forces  or  phenomena  should  como 
under  similar  relations.  The  conceptions  and  relations  by  which  they  are  conceived  as  mov- 
ing, striving  against,  excluding,  and  regressing  one  another,  are  figurative  expressions  arising 
from  the  necessities  of  language.  They  cannot  be  pressed  to  a  literal  consti  action.  Inas- 
much, then,  as  these  forces  have  no  relation  to  space,  one  of  the  essential  conditions  of 
mathematical  laws,  it  may  be  they  are  exempt  entirely  from  such  laws.  Third.  It  is  to  beg 
the  question  to  assert  that  if  mental  phenomena  cannot  be  regulated  by  mathematical  laws, 
they  cannot  be  the  subjects  of  scientific  estimates.  No  one  has  a  right  to  assume  that  scien 
tific  knowledge  must  cease  where  mathematical  relations  cannot  apply. 


558  THE  HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  577. 

X.  Of  the  relation  of  space  and  time  concepts  to  Motion. 
can   time  and     8  577.  It  has  already  been  shown  that  the  space  and  time 

space  relations,  .  .  ,  ..       _ 

etc.,  be  still  fur-     relations  of  objects  can  be  generalized  as  truly  as  their  sen 

ther    generally-         .,  .  .    .         .  .  .. 

ed!  sible  or  spiritual  properties,  and  when  so  generalized  can 

become  universals  of  a  very  wide  extension.  The  inquiry  naturally  sug- 
gests itself  whether  these  relations  can  be  still  further  generalized,  and  so 
be  included  under  a  concept  of  a  still  wider  extension,  as  well  as 
be  subordinated  under  one  another.  In  other  words,  can  the  here-ness, 
the  there-ness,  the  distance,  the  breadth,  the  height,  depth,  and  solid  content 
of  material  objects,  or  their  correlated  mental  images  be  set  forth  under  a 
group  of  relations  or  attributes  which  are  of  still  wider  extent  or  appli- 
cation than  themselves  ?  Likewise,  can  the  now-ness,  the  then-ness,  the 
past-ness,  the  futurity  and  duration  of  an  event  be  also  generalized  in  a 
similar  way  ? 

Last  of  all,  can  time  and  space  relations  be  brought  together,  and  generalized  by  means 
of  the  relations  common  to  the  two,  so  that  they  can  be  coordinated  in  a  logical  classification, 
and  can  be  denned  by  logical  definitions  ?  These  inquiries  have  often  been  made  and  answered 
with  more  or  less  success  by  different  philosophers.  The  fact  that  they  have  been  made,  indi- 
cates the  interest  that  has  been  awakened  in  the  subject,  and  illustrates  the  strength  of  the 
tendency  which  impels  the  mind  to  generalize  and  unite  all  the  objects  of  its  knowledge,  even 
those  which  are  so  attenuated  and  abstract  as  space  and  tune. 

One  of  the  most  general  properties  or  attributes  of  material  objects  is  their 
capacity  for  motion.  Every  material  thing  can  be  moved.  The  eye  and  the 
Sons  space"rela"  hand  learn  to  separate  the  objects  of  perception  from  the  great  universe  with 
which  they  are  at  first  united,  by  the  circumstance  that  they  are  moved  and 
movable.  The  limiting  surfaces,  edges  and  corners  of  such  objects  are  determined  and  traced 
out  by  the  moving  of  the  hand  or  the  eye  along  or  up  to  their  several  limits.  Every  act  of 
motion  brings  with  it  the  possible  suggestion  of  some  one  of  the  relations  of  space.  As  an 
edge  or  surface  cannot  be  perceived  without  involving  to  the  percipient  the  relation  of  either 
to  space,  and  as  motion  enables  the  mind  to  follow  or  apprehend  the  edge  or  surface,  so 
does  motion  become  the  medium  of  bringing  the  relations  of  linear  or  superficial  extension  to 
imagination  and  thought.  If  the  direction  of  the  moving  limit  be  changed,  and  the  line 
or  lines,  the  surface  or  surfaces  are  followed  by  the  moving  hand  or  the  moving  eye  to  the 
place  of  starting,  then  a  superficies,  or  a  solid  portion  of  space,  must  be  included  to  the 
touching  hand,  the  following  eye,  the  picturing  imagination,  and  the  generalizing  thought. 
These  motions,  with  their  directions,  can  neither  be  perceived  nor  imagined  without  suggesting 
the  corresponding  relations  to  space  of  the  objects  which  have  moved,  or  which  are  bounded 
by  moving  objects. 

We  conclude,  then,  that  there  is  not  a  single  relation  of  space  which 
cannot  at  once  be  brought  before  the  mind,  and,  as  it  were,  be  created  to 
the  fancy  by  some  act  or  process  of  motion.  Motion  is,  therefore,  equally 
extensive  with  all  these  relations.  It  attends  them  all.  It  can  suggest 
them  all.  Each  one  of  them  can,  therefore,  in  a  certain  sense,  be  expressed 
and  defined  in  terms  and  concepts  of  motion. 


$577,  MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS:  TIME   AND   SPACE.  559 

Not   only   is   this   true  of  the  relations   of  extension,   but 

Also    the    rela-  .  *         •  •  i  -i  i  • 

tionscf  position,  even  those  ot  position  can  be  expressed  by  means  oi  motion. 
The  meaning  of  here  and  tlure,  above  and  below,  behind 
and  before,  are  all  definable  by  acts  of  motion — to  and  from,  this  way  and 
that  way, — -joined  with  counter  or  arresting  motions,  which  stop  their 
progress.  When  the  question  is  asked  of  a  child,  What  do  you  mean  by 
these  terms  ?  it  invariably  replies  by  explanations  of  this  kind.  It  says, 
in  effect,  Move  an  object  in  this  or  that  direction,  and  then  arrest  it,  and 
it  will  be  here  or  there,  before  or  behind,  above  or  below. 

The  relations  of  time  can  also  be  generalized  by  means  of 
£on?ofctime!la"  motion.  The  motion  of  material  objects  suggests  the  rela- 
tions of  time  as  truly  as  it  does  the  relations  of  space.  A 
moving  body  suggests  duration  as  truly  as  it  does  extension,  when  the 
motion  is  complete ;  the  act  of  starting  suggests  then  as  truly  as  it  does 
there  /  the  act  of  stopping  suggests  now  as  well  as  here.  It  may  have  come 
to  do  so  by  a  secondary  and  transferred  meaning,  but  it  does  so  in  fact  and 
by  a  universal  and  inevitable  connection. 

Even  when  time  is  thought  or  affirmed  of  mental  acts  and  events,  it  is  still 
™S^J     represented  by  motion  in  space.     Every  such  act  is  capable  of   being  at- 


by  motion.  tended  by  some  bodily  movement.     In  point  of  fact,  every  mental  act  or  state 

is  so  attended,  whether  it  is  observed  or  not.  Hence,  by  a  natural  conse 
quence,  when  time  is  affirmed  of  processes  (or  states)  that  are  purely  spiritual,  its  relations  are 
expressed  in  language  and  thought  by  motions  that  are  corporeal.  As  the  language  and  con- 
cepts of  time,  when  applied  to  the  spirit,  are  taken  exclusively  from  space-relations,  originally 
derived  from  material  objects,  so  do  such  concepts  come  under  the  relations  to  motion  which 
these  involve.  It  follows  that  motion  furnishes  all  the  materials  for  a  common  generalization 
of  both  space  and  time  objects,  and  that  time  and  space  relations  by  means  of  motion  can  be 
comprehended  by  a  common  classification  in  the  same  logical  system. 

It  also  follows  that  mathematical  entities  or  quanta  are  produced  to  the  mind 
Also  mathema-  an(j  defined  by  means  of  motion,  the  motion  in  such  case  being  both  imaged 
and  generalized.  This  follows  of  necessity  of  what  has  already  been  ex« 
plained  of  the  relation  of  concrete  objects  and  events  to  the  several  concepts 
of  magnitude  and  number.  The  truth  of  this  proposition  is  still  further  confirmed  by  the 
language  of  mathematical  definitions.  These  definitions  always  rest  upon,  and  can  be  ex- 
pressed by  postulates.  These  postulates  always  suppose  an  act  or  acts  of  motion.  In  geome- 
try we  say,  draw  a  line  ;  terminate  or  bisect  a  line,  giving  a  point ;  move  a  line  and  it  gives  a 
surface.  In  arithmetic  and  algebra  we  say  count,  that  is,  unite  as  wholes,  or  odd,  subtract,  mul 
ti}'ly  and  divide  ;  all  of  which  terms  suggest  or  suppose  some  image  taken  from  spatial  motion 
as  the  result  of  the  constant  conjunction  already  adverted  to,  of  the  duration  of  the  con- 
scio  is  spirit  with  its  attendant  measured  space. 

in  11  b*t  sense  is  It  ought  however  to  be  kept  in  mind,  that  motion  is  not 
StSif  ^hgener-  *ne  medium  or  instrument  of  generalization  in  precisely  the 
same  way  as  the  other  attributes  or  properties  of  matter  and 
spirit  become  so.  Thus,  we  define  the  notion  egg,  by  the  various 
propeiixes  which  constitute  its  logical  essence,  or,  as  we  say,  make  up  its 
3r  finitioii.  So,  too,  we  define  a  material  act  which  is  complex,  by  resolv- 


560  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §577 

ing  it  into  its  simpler  constituents,  going  back  till  we  reach  those  which 
are  ultimate  and  in  decomposable.  In  a  similar  way  we  define  spiritual 
beings  and  spiritual  acts.  In  both  cases  we  begin  with  the  most  generic 
concepts,  and  come  down  to  those  which  are  more  specific.  For  the  ex- 
planation of  these  properties  or  attributes,  whether  generic  or  specific, 
we  must  resort  to  experience,  either  of  sense-perception  or  consciousness. 
This  experience  is  presupposed  in  all  definition.  Simple  ideas  cannot  be 
defined  or  analyzed.  No  definition  can  convey  to  the  blind  the  meaning 
of  color  [generic]  or  of  red  color  [specific]. 

Time  and  space  attributes  [more  exactly  time  and  space  relations]  are  not  given  to  expe- 
rience precisely  as  are  sensible  and  spiritual  properties.  They  are  involved  in  all  experience, 
but  they  are  not  properly  experienced.  The  space-relations  of  a  concrete  object  are  not 
apprehended  by  sense-perception  in  the  narrowest  sense  of  the  term,  but  in  connection  with 
sense-perception.  The  same  is  true  of  time  relations  as  apprehended  by  consciousness. 
When  these  objects  are  imaged,  the  same  distinction  is  to  be  observed  between  what  we 
directly  experience,  and  what  is  given  with  experience,  and,  in  a  certain  sense,  is  involved  in 
experience.  We  can  only  image  what  we  perceive.  We  cannot,  as  has  been  already  said, 
§  566,  image  or  picture  space  or  time  relations  as  such,  but  we  can  image  those  objects  of 
sense  and  consciousness  which  involve  space  and  time  relations.  Motion  is  not  an  object  of 
sense-perception  in  the  narrow  meaning  of  the  term,  but  it  ig  its  constant  condition  and 
accompaniment,  i.  <?.,  it  always  involves  some  space-relations,  and  for  this  reason  it  can  become 
the  means  by  which  these  relations  can  be  generalized  and  defined.  For  the  explanation 
of  the  import  of  its  terms  and  the  concepts  which  they  designate,  we  must  refer  to  experience 
as  we  do  in  the  case  of  sensible  and  spiritual  qualities,  i.e.,  we  must  assume  and  presuppose 
that  every  one  knows  what  motion  is  in  all  its  directions  and  varieties.  With  this  medium 
at  our  command,  we  proceed  to  our  constructions  and  definitions. 

To  this  view  two  objections  may  be  urged.  The  first  is,  that  space  and  time  are  as  truly 
Two  objections,  assumed  and  involved  in  the  concept  and  definition  of  motion,  as  motion  is  required  foi 
First,  that  mo-  the  concepts  and  definitions  of  space  and  time.  We  define  motion,  it  is  said,  as  a  change 
s'pace  and^Time!  of  Place>  and  Place  is  a  relation  of  space.  The  objection  is  more  plausible  than  real. 

The  terms  change  and  place  are  indeed  used  in  this  attempted  definition,  but  that  doe? 
not  prove  that  both  are  not  definable  by  concepts  of  motion .  What  is  place  but  some  determinable  or  de- 
termined relation  of  space  ?  But  how  is  it  determinable  or  determined  except  by  means  of  motion  ?  How  is 
change  of  any  sort,  whether  material  or  spiritual,  made  conceivable  or  general  to  the  mind  except  by 
means  of  spatial  motion?  The  question  to  be  decided  is,  which  furnishes  the  most  general  of  elements  or 
media  for  general  concepts  or  definitions;  which  concept  is  the  most  generic,  the  concept  of  space  or  the 
concept  of  motion.  It  might  be  granted,  perhaps,  that  the  percepts  and  images  of  motion  and  space 
are  equally  original  and  therefore  co5rdinate,  and  yet  it  would  not  follow  that  the  concept  of  the  one  waa 
not  more  generic  than  the  concept  of  the  other.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  intuition  and  concf  pt  of 
time  as  compared  with  those  of  motion. 

Again :  it  is  obvious  that  we  may  have  an  intuition  of  motion  as  of  sense-percepts^er 
Their  relations  se,  without  adverting  distinctly  to  the  relations  of  either  to  space.  We  may  see  a  colored 
to  motion  not  j^  or  foiiow  a  moving  body  in  a  linear  path,  without  distinguishing  by  analysis  the 
verted^tof  length  of  either  as  involving  the  space  to  which  the  length  or  superficies  is  related- 

This  being  so,  the  motion  might  be  more  suitable  as  a  medium  of  generalizing  our  con- 
cepts of  space  relations  than  the  space  and  its  relations  which  it  is  desirable  to  conceive  and  define  by 
means  of  motion.  That  to  which  the  mind  first  and  most  readily  attends ;  that  which  it  most  familiarly 
recalls ;  that  which  it  most  easily  recognizes,  would  be  better  fitted  for  such  a  purpose  than  that  which  is 
less  obvious  and  less  familiar,  even  though  both  were  equally  general. 

It  is  urged  again,  that  the  rate  of  motion  is  always  estimated  by  means  of  time:  the 
It  is  urged  that  swiftness  or  slowness  of  motion  from  one  point  of  space  to  another  is  computed  by  the 
the  rates  of  mo-  longer  or  shorter  time  which  is  required  to  move  from  the  one  to  the  other.  This  is 
mated^y  time."  true'  bufc  9O  a?ain  is  it;  true  that  duration  itself,  as  longer  or  shorter,  is  described  nud 

conceived  by  the  length  of  space  passed  over  by  a  body  supposed  to  be  moving 
steadily  ;  and  that  two  or  more  equal  portions  of  duration  are  measured  and  set  forth  by  the  same  or  equal 


tyutu 


§578.  MATHEMATICAL  RELATIONS  I   TIME   AND   SPACE.  561 

portions  of  space  passed  over  by  a  moving  body.  Motion  involves  time  and  space,  else  it  could  not  gene- 
ralize or  define  either.  Both  time  and  space  are  presupposed  as  the  conditions  of  motion.  Real  time  and 
real  space  are  assumed  in  order  that  the  concepts  of  motion  should  be  possible,  but  it  docs  not  follow  that 
that  which  is  selected  as  the  means  by  which  both  are  generalized  into  concepts  is  not  that  motion  which  is 
so  intimately  connected  with  each  as  to  suggest  both  whenever  it  is  perceived  or  imaged. 

The  second  objection  would  be  that  not  motion  only,  but  motion  and  direction  are  re« 
Second  objec-  quired  for  the  generalization  of  space  and  time  objects,  and  especially  for  the  construc- 
ion,  that  direc-  tjon  an(j  definition  of  mathematical  quanta.  A  line  cannot  be  drawn  or  conceived  ae 
as  well  as  mo-  straight  or  curved,  without  introducing  the  element  of  direction  to  a  fixed  point  or  of 
tion.  variation  from  it.  One  or  more  continuous  surfaces  cannot  be  made  to  include  a  con- 

tent of  space  without  a  change  in  direction  which  is  observed  and  recognized  as  an  ele- 
ment in  its  product  or  construction.  Let  this  be  granted,  and  still  it  does  not  follow  that  the  concept  of 
motion  is  not  the  most  generic.  Direction  supposes  motion;  direction  is  specific  and  is  itself  a  means  of 
making  specific  the  more  generic  concept  of  motion.  Motion  cannot  occur  or  be  conceived  of  without 
taking  some  direction,  any  more  than  without  implying  space  and  time  as  its  real  conditions.  This  rather 
proves  than  otherwise  that  motion  is  itself  the  most  generic  or  the  ultimate  concept  of  all.  Cf.  A.  Tren- 
delenburg,  Logische.  Unterswhunaen,  Berlin,  1840.  2te  Aufl.,  Leipzig,  1862. 

§  578.  The  extended  and  enduring  objects  which  we  have 
enduring  objects  thus  far  considered,  are  limited  objects,  and  the  relations  to 

are  limited.  ...  »•'*•»•'•*    '•»>       V    *  i  • 

space  and  time  which  they  involve  belong  to  these  objects 
as  limited.  Whether  these  objects  with  their  relations  are  presented  by 
sense-perception  or  consciousness,  are  represented  to  the  imagination 
or  generalized  in  thought,  they  are  necessarily  definite  and  limited.  The 
so-called  dimensions  of  extension — length,  breadth,  and  thickness, — and 
the  various  relations  of  duration,  can  only  be  affirmed  of  finite  beings  and 
activities.  These  beings  must  occupy  portions  of  space.  Every  length, 
every  breadth  and  thickness  perceived,  is  definite  in  its  dimensions.  So 
is  it  with  every  one  of  either  that  is  represented.  So  is  it  with  every  one 
that  is  generalized ;  even  the  general  conceptions  of  either  contemplate  and 
suppose  only  some  definite  dimensions  of  each.  The  generic  word  exten- 
sion supposes  extension  as  applied  to  limited  and  measurable  objects,  and 
therefore  always  signifies  limited  extension.  The  same  is  true  of  duration 
and  its  attributes  or  relations.  Even  mathematical  relations  can  only  be 
conceived  of  as  limited  or  definite  quantities.  These,  as  we  have  S'jen, 
presuppose  some  objects  imagined  to  exist  in  space,  or  series  of  such  objects 
connected  by  acts  continuous  in  time,  of  which  certain  attributes  and 
Delations  are  affirmed,  i.e.,  they  invariably  presuppose  limited  objects. 

Mathematics  re-  Mathematical  science  has  to  do  only  with  mensurable  and  of  course  with  dcf- 
eognizes  mcas-  inite  quantity.  The  infinite  and  indefinite  have  properly  no  place  in  muthe- 
therefo're  de-  matics.  What  is  called  the  mathematical  infinite  is  either  a  quantity  a*  yet 
nty.  not  measured  or  nun.bered,  or  quantities  in  respect  to  which  these  processes 
have  been  begun  but  are  not  yet  completed  ;  or  a  quantity  so  nearly  commensurable  that  the 
one  may  be  substituted  for  the  other.  The  so-called  infinite  quantities  of  the  mathematics  are 
quantities  not  yet  actually  or  proximately  defined,  i.  <?.,  mensurable  but  not  yet  measured  or  de- 
fined. They  should  be  carefully  distinguished  from  what,  in  distinction  from  them,  may  be  called 
the  actual  infinite  or  unconditioned.  Not  that  the  two  are  wholly  unrelated,  or  independent  of 
one  another,  but  that  they  are  by  no  means  the  same.  The  conception  of  the  mathematical 
infinite  or  indefinite  may  be  rendered  possible  by  the  real  infinitude  of  time  and  space,  but  aa 
concepts  the  two  are  wholly  diverse,  if  indeed  we  can  be  said  to  have  any  concept  at  all  of  the 
latter. 

36 

0 


562  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §?V9 

XL    Of  Space  and  Time  as  infinite  and  unconditioned. 
Extension    and    §  5  79.  The  several  attributes  of  extension  and  duration  are 


guished  from,  not  only  attributes  of  limited  objects  and  therefore  mensura- 
epace  and  time,  ble  and  definable,  but  they  involve  relationship  to  another 
sort  of  objects,  and  a  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  these  objects.  These 
objects  are  space  and  time.  The  attributes  of  extension  and  duration, 
though  predicable  of  matter  and  spirit  and  their  phenomena,  are  unlike 
the  qualities  of  matter  and  spirit  in  that  they  have  no  positive  import 
given  in  the  experience  of  sense  and  consciousness,  but  in  their  nature 
carry  the  mind  to  other  objects  to  which  they  hold  relations.  The  definite 
length  or  breadth,  the  superficial  or  solid  content  of  a  material  box  or 
ball  are  not  only  affirmable  of  the  matter  of  which  the  box  or  ball  consists, 
but  imply  a*  relation  to,  and  are  attributable  of,  the  object  or  objects 
adjacent  ;  whether  these  are  material,  one  or  many,  as  the  air  which  sur- 
rounds them,  or  which  if  hollow  they  are  conceived  to  include  ;  or  whether 
these  are  void  of  all  matter  whatever.  The  adjacent  object  or  objects  are 
in  their  turn  limited  objects,  and  besides,  their  material  qualities  hold 
similar  relations  to  other  objects,  whether  these  possess  or  are  void  of 
material  qualities.  The  duration  of  one  or  more  acts  or  events  is  not 
merely  affirmable  of  one  or  more  of  the  acts  or  events,  but  it  involves 
possible  relations  to  other  acts  atfd  events  —  coexistent,  preceding  and  fol- 
lowing —  and  also  to  the  Time  to  which  all  are  related  and  whose  existence 
they  all  imply. 

Nothing  is  more  clear  to  human  cognition  than  that  the  so-called  material  and  spiritual 
properties  are  distinguishable  from  their  attributes  of  extension  and  duration.  The  peculiar- 
ity of  the  last  consists  in  their  being  in  their  very  nature  space  and  time  relations.  That  is, 
while  they  are  predicable,  and  therefore  properties  of  things  and  events,  they  imply  and  reveal 
relations  to  those  entities  or  objects  which  are  called  time  and  space. 

These  attributes  and  properties,  when  considered  collectively  are  or  may  be  called  exten- 
Bion  and  duration.  The  appropriate  names  of  the  entities  to  which  these  properties  involve 
relations,  are  time  and  space.  Thus  distinguished,  extension  and  duration,  i.  e.,  extension  and 
duration  in  the  concrete  or  the  extension  and  duration  of  individual  objects,  are  known  by 
experience,  while  space  and  time,  as  soon  as  they  are  apprehended  at  all,  are  known  to  be 
d  priori,  i.  e.,  the  necessary  and  fundamental  conditions  of  all  actual  existences  and  events  as 
extended  and  enduring. 

It  is  not  asserted  that  in  applying  these  attributes  to  objects 

These   relations  L    J       & 

not  always  dis-    of  experience  the  mind  necessarily  adverts  to  the  relations 

tinctly  adverted  .  .         J 

to.  to  time  and  space  which  they  imply,  but  only  that  when  the 

mind  gives  attention  to  them,  it  cannot  fail  to  discover  that  these  relations 
are  implied,  and  with  them  the  existence  of  time  and  space.  To  make 
this  discovery  the  mind  may  need  to  make  the  experience  of  many  objects 
of  sense  and  consciousness.  It  may  need  the  discipline  of  many  acts  of 
attention  to  separate  and  analyze  what  is  at  first  known  confusedly  and 
without  discrimination. 


§580.  MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I   TIME   AND   SPACE.  56? 

In  order  fully  to  appreciate  the  time  and  space  relations  of  objects  and  events  to  one 
another  as  well  as  to  time  and  space  themselves,  the  imagination  may  need  to  be  called  into 
exercise.  One  material  object  may  need  to  be  annexed  to  another  and  still  others  to  all  those, 
before  space  can  be  fully  understood  in  all  the  relations  which  it  involves  to  the  extended 
objects  thus  believed  or  supposed  to  exist,  or  to  other  extended  objects  besides,  In  like 
manner,  many  events  must  be  experienced,  in  order  that  the  common  relations  of  all  these, 
and  of  all  conceivable  enduring  objects,  to  time,  may  be  distinctly  apprehended  and  cL-arly 
distinguished  from  the  time  which  is  common  to  them  all.  The  psychological  conditions  of 
knowledge  are  clearly  distinguishable  from  the  nature  and  the  evidence  of  the  objects  that  are 
known.  The  one  describes  the  subjective  conditions  that  render  it  possible  for  an  individual 
to  employ  and  apply  his  mind  in  such  a  manner  as  to  discern  a  fact  or  truth.  The  other 
describes  objectively,  what  in  its  nature  is  knowable  by  all  individuals  under  these  subjective 
conditions,  and  the  evidence,  if  there  be  any,  by  which  it  is  known. 

We  have  already  indicated  the  several  stages  or  degrees  of  progress  through 
last  of  the  stages  which  the  mind  may  proceed  in  mastering  the  full  import  of,  and  in  reaching 
distinct  assent  to,  the  remoter  objects  and  relations  that  are  gained  by  Intui- 
tion. We  have  clearly  distinguished  between  the  clearness  and  certainty 
of  that  which  is  knowable  and  the  possibility  that  it  should  be  clearly  and  certainly  known 
by  this  or  that  individual  or  even  by  this  or  that  class  of  men. 

These  attributes,  known  collectively  as  extension  and  duration,  are  not  on  the  one  hand 
properly  qualities  of  material  or  spiritual  beings  and  their  acts,  nor,  on  the  other,  are  they  the 
supersensible  entities  themselves,  called  Space  and  Time,  but  they  are  the  relations  of  the  objects 
and  phenomena  of  sense  and  consciousness  to  these  supersensible  entities.  Being  relations  they 
imply  the  reality  of  the  objects  related,  and  they  cannot  be  understood  or  known  except  by 
means  of  these  objects. 

§  580.  Extension  and  duration  are  also  the  limits  or  the  grounds 
j?ct! aSfe'vent  of  the  limits  of  objects  and  events.  Not  only  are  they  rela- 
tions of  objects  to  supersensible  entities,  but  they  enable  the 
mind  to  distinguish  objects  from  one  another  as  diverse  in  place,  as  near, 
remote,  here,  and  there;  as  in  this  or  that  direction  ;  as  now,  then,  past,  pres- 
ent arid  future.  These  pertain  not  to  space  and  time,  but  to  objects  and 
events  as  related  to  Space  and  Time,  and  therefore  and  by  this  means  to 
one  another  as  also  related  to  space  and  time. 

Strictly  speaking,  when  these  relations  are  used  as  limits,  they  are  relations  not  between 
the  concrete  object  and  time  or  space,  but  to  two  objects  as  existing  in  space  or  in  time, 
or  as  conceived  thus  to  exist.  When,  for  example,  I  perceive  a  box  either  inclosing  or  inclosed 
by  what  we  call  a  void,  and  affirm  that  which  is  without,  is  not  that  which  is  within,  or  con- 
versely ;  both  that  which  is  without  and  within  are  conceived  as  matter  with  surfaces  mutually 
coinciding,  but  yet  dividing  or  limiting  the  one  from  the  other.  If  I  conceive  of  the  outmost 
limit  of  the  universe  of  matter  and  ask  what  is  beyond,  immediately  as  I  ask  the  question  I 
attach  the  limiting  surface  to  other  matter  which  is  conceived  to  be  beyond,  and  the  outlines  of 
which  I  begin  to  trace  by  the  constructive  motion  of  which  the  imagination  is  capable.  Of  this 
outline,  one  portion,  viz.,  the  limiting  surface  already  described,  is  fixed.  The  others  are  not 
yet  drawn ;  the  mind  has  no  occasion  even  to  conceive  them  drawn,  and  it  rests  in  the 
knowledge  or  belief  that  it  might  complete  them  in  any  way  in  which  it  chooses.  But  as  soon 
as  they  should  be  completed  they  must  necessarily  be  conceived  as  inclosed  by  or  inclosed  with 
matter,  for  the  simple  reason  that  an  extended  surface  of  that  which  has  no  actual  being  can 
not  be  conceived  or  thought  of. 

In  a  similar  way  the  instant  which  terminates  or  limits  an  event,  is  the  beginning  of  an- 


564  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §582. 

other  as  yet  inchoate  or  incomplete.  So  the  beginning  of  an  event  already  past  is  fhe  end  of 
the  event  that  was  transacted  before  it. 

What  we  call  Space  and  Time  are  those  entities  which  can  be  occupied,  as  we  say,  by  beings 
and  events,  i.  e.,  which  render  their  actual  existence  possible,  and  which  in  rendering  them  pos- 
sible, also  make  it  possible  that  they  should  be  limited  from  one  another,  or  distinguished  from 
one  another  by  their  common  relations  to  space  and  time. 

Extension  and  § 581-  Extension  and  duration  cannot  be  affirmed  of  Spact 
fd^tMn^and  ai1^  Time  per  se,  but  of  existing  material  objects  and  actually 
events  only.  occurring  events  as  mutually  related  to  and  limited  by  one 
another  by  reason  of  their  common  relation  to  space  and  time.  We  cannot 
conceive  of  parts  of  space  or  time  as  diverse  from  one  another,  or  as  mutu- 
ally related,  as  here  and  there,  before  and  after,  without  the  aid  of  beings 
and  events.  Even  those  which  are  conceived  to  be  bounded  by  surfaces  and 
lines,  as  geometrical  quantities  and  the  so-called  portions  of  duration, 
which  may  be  divided  by  instants,  are  only  conceivable  as  occupiable  by 
bodies  and  events.  The  matter  of  either  may  be  imagined  as  so  refined  in 
its  nature  as  to  admit  of  great  refinement  in  these  limits  or  relations,  but 
without  the  matter  conceived  as  real  or  possible  the  limits  and  relations 
are  inconceivable. 

Relations  of  place  do  not  belong  to  space,  but  to  bodies  perceived  or 
imagined  to  exist  in  or  by  space.  Relations  of  time  do  not  belong  to 
duration,  but  to  events  occurring  in,  or  by,  i.  e.,  presupposing  time. 

8  582.  It  follows  that  Space  and  Time  are  not  limited,  simply 

In    what    sense     °  ,  .  ,.,....  7.      Z7     ,       ,-,  T, 

space  and  Time  because  the  conception  oi  limits  is  inapphcaole  to  them.  It 
is  by  its  very  nature  only  applicable  to  and  affirmable  of  ex- 
tended matter  and  occurring  events.  When  we  attempt  to  apply  it  to 
Space  and  Time  we  can  only  do  it  by  means  of  objects  and  events.  When 
we  seem  to  ourselves  to  have  been  successful,  we  find  that  we  have  really 
though  perhaps  unconsciously  made  use  of  such  objects  and  events.  The 
conception  of  limit  or  limitation  is  inapplicable  to  either  Space  or  Time. 
It  is  in  this  sense  that  we  affirm  that  Space  and  Time  are  unlimited.  This 
attribute  is  purely  and  simply  negative.  It  denies  that  the  relation  of  limi- 
tation which  pertains  to  bodies  and  acts  can  pertain  to  Space  and  Time. 

It  does  not,  however,  follow,  because  Space  and  Time  are  not  limited,  and  that 
They  are  not  they  in  this  way  are  negatively  distinguished,  that  they  are  capable  of  no  positive 
ly™elatedfatiVe"  attributes.  We  direct  the  attention  for  the  present  to  the  negative  character 

of  these  relation?,  in  order  that  we  may  preserve  ourselves  from  many  oi  the 
alleged  incompatibilities  which  are  conceived  to  be  involved  in  the  attempt  to  know  or  con- 
ceive Space  and  Time.  Of.  §  690. 

Thus  Hamilton  (Met.  38)  urges  that  we  are  under  the  necessity  of  conceiving  space  end 
...  .  .  time  either  as  an  absolute  maximum  or  an  absolute  minimum,  and  that  it  is  impossible 
Hamilton  and  to  do  either,  because  the  mind,  as  soon  as  it  has  fixed  the  limits  to  the  ultimately  great 
Fant.  or  the  ultimately  small,  will  immediately  overstep  or  go  "beyond  the  limits  which  it  had 

just  established,  and  will  find  itself  continually  baffled  in  its  impotent  efforts  to  grasp 
vr  oon  jeive  either. 

In  the  same  strain,  Kant  ur-*es  that  the  mind,  in  its  attempts  to  conceive  of  space  and  time,  Is  cot. 


§584.  MATHEMATICAL   BELATIONS  .   TIME   AND   SPACE.  56S 

tinually  setting  up  two  incompatible  propositions— which  he  calls  Antinomies— both  of  which  cannot  be 
true,  and  yet  one  of  which  would  seem  to  be  necessary.  Both  overlook  that  the  maximum  and  minitnurr 
which  we  attempt  to  conceive  are  not  space  and  time,  butbodies  and  events  as  limited  in  space  and  time. 
The  maximum  and  minimum  in  the  case  are  not  space  and  time,  nor  are  they  concepts  of  either,  but  they  are 
concepts  of  bodies  and  events  as  related  to  and  limited  by  space  and  time.  They  are  limited  concepts,  and 
in  their  very  nature  logically  inapplicable  to  objects  which  cannot  be  limited.  To  attempt  to  think  of  time 
and  space  under  any  such  concepts,  however  great  or  small,  is  to  make  an  effort  which  will  involve  certain 
and  constant  contradiction  and  inconsistency.  To  attempt  to  picture  time  and  space  to  the  Imagination  is 
impossible,  for  we  can  only  picture  objects  and  events,  with  definite  properties  and  characteristics.  Even 
when  we  lay  aside  all  properties  except  what  we  call  their  time  and  space  relations,  what  we  picture  01 
imagine  are  still  limited  objects  in  space  and  time — objects  with  some  defined  limits  of  extension  and  du- 
ration, but  not  space  and  time  themselves.  It  is  true  that  every  time  we  picture  or  image  such  objects  we 
must  think  of  their  relations  to  their  correlates,  time  and  space ;  but  time  and  space,  in  themselves,  cau 
neither  be  imaged  nor  pictured. 

Space  and  Time  §  583*  Again,  Space  and  Time  cannot  be  generalized  or  appre- 
ai£ed * bu ndTr  ^en^e(^  fy  or  wufa  concepts.  Concepts  suppose  definite 
higher  concepts,  attributes  of  objects  limited  by  and  individualized  in  Time 
and  Space.  These  attributes  to  be  generalized  must  be  similar  in  the  in- 
dividuals to  which  they  belong,  and  these  similar  and  oft-repeated  individ* 
ualized  attributes  must  be  gathered  under  generalized  concepts.  But 
Time  and  Space  are  withdrawn  from  these  conditions  of  generaliza- 
tion, for  they  are  necessarily  supposed  as  the  conditions  and  correlates  of 
all  individual  existences  and  of  their  attributes.  Even  the  relations  of  ex- 
tension and  duration,  by  which  individual  objects  are  possible,  cannot  be 
intelligible  except  by  means  of  these  entities  which  are  the  necessary 
correlates  to  these  universal  properties  of  all  individual  existences.  The 
properties  are  generalizable,  but  the  entities  themselves  to  which  they  are 
related  cannot  be  generalized.  Nor  are  they  individual  objects,  if  by  that 
is  intended  objects  which  possess  generalizable  properties  which  can  be 
gathered  into  concepts. 

§  584.  Space  and  Time  cannot  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  th< 
properly  be  de-  term  be  defined.  If  we  cannot  form  concepts  of  these  entities 

by  means  of  generalized  attributes  or  relations,  it  is  manifest 
that  we  cannot  define  these  concepts,  because  to  define  is  simply  to  state 
the  attributes  into  which  a  concept  thus  formed  can  be  resolved,  §  391. 
They  are  not  simple  concepts,  for  simple  concepts  pertain  to  single  inde- 
composible  attributes  or  relations,  §  390,  and  no  one  will  for  an  instant  be- 
lieve or  contend  that  the  import  of  either  is  exhausted  by  any  single  prop- 
erty or  relation. 

What  is  demonstrated  to  be  necessary  from  the  nature  of  the  case,  is  confirmed  by  fact 
and  experiment  when  we  submit  to  trial.  Whenever  we  endeavor  to  define  these  entities  we 
tind  ourselves  employing  concepts  which  presuppose  that  they  are  already  known.  Every  con- 
cept that  we  use  is  an  attribute  or  relation  of  some  object  or  event  which  exists  in  space  or 
time,  and  which  implies  some  relation  of  either  to  one  or  both.  We  fall,  therefore,  continually 
into  the  circle  of  using  in  our  definitions  terms  that  presuppose  that  to  be  known  which  we 
attempt  to  define  or  describe. 

Not  only  is  this  shown  to  be  necessary  from  reasons  that  are  purely  logical, 
lan"  but  the  nature  of  language  confirms  this  view.  Even  if  we  should  concede 

tiat  attributes  might  be  found  which   do  not  imply  space  and  time,  such 


566  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  585 

attributes  could  not  be  expressed  in  language  without  supposing  thdr  existence.  The  exigen- 
cies of  communication  require  that  every  thought  attribute  and  relation,  in  order  to  be  ex- 
pressed, should  be  imaged  by  some  picture  borrowed  from  Space  and  Time.  Eren  then,  if 
Space  and  Time  did  not  intrude  in  the  attributes  by  which  we  seem  to  define  them,  they 
must  necessarily  present  themselves  as  images  in  every  such  effort,  and  they  could  not  be 
repressed. 

When  Hamilton  says  that  these  entities  cannot  be  conceived,  he  doubtless  has  in  mind  what  we  here 
assert,  that  they  cannot  be  analyzed  into  attributes  or  defined  by  such  attributes  as  presuppose  and  imply 
their  existence.  Whether  this  is  a  correct  use  of  the  term  to  conceive,  may  be  a  matter  of  question,  and 
also  whether  the  further  assertion  which  he  makes  is  true,  that  we  can  know  by  faith  or  believe  what 
we  cannot  in  any  sense  conceive. 

They  are  known  §  ^85.  Space  and  time  are  known  by  intuition  as  the  neces- 
of  "he^iimX  sary  conditions  of  the  existence  and  the  conception  of  all  objects 
correlates.  an(j  even(;st  Every  object  and  event,  as  has  already  been  ex- 
plained, has  properties  or  attributes  which  imply  the  existence  of  these 
entities.  In  knowing  that  these  objects  exist,  we  know  that  time  and 
space  exist  as  their  actual  conditions.  In  conceiving  of  these  objects  or 
events  as  real  or  possible,  we  must  conceive  of  them  as  related  to  space 
and  time,  and,  of  course,  must  recognize  time  and  space  as  the  logical  con- 
ditions of  their  concepts. 

While,  then,  it  is  true  that  we  can  neither  generalize  nor  define  time  and  space,  because 
the  very  attributes  which  we  must  employ  imply  both,  it  is  true,  on  the  other  hand,  that  we 
cannot  generalize  or  define  any  object  whatever  without  recognizing  both,  and,  therefore, 
time  and  space  must  enter  as  the  material  into  all  our  concepts.  Again  : 

Though  time  and  space  cannot  be  defined  or  conceived  by 

Are    themselves  .  •    -« *  n  i  •    i      •         i         • 

the  correlates  of   the  relations  of  omects  and  events  which  imply  time  and 

the  extended  , 

and  enduring.  space,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  as  the  correlates  ot  all  such 
objects,  they  can  be  explained  to  the  mind  by  means  of  the  limited  rela- 
tions which  imply  their  real  existence.  It  is  so  far  from  being  true  that 
because  space  and  time  are  known  by  intuition,  they  are  known  out  of  all 
or  any  relation  to  limited  objects  and  events ;  that  it  is  only  possible  to 
know  them  in  such  relations,  or  connections.  They  are  only  known  as 
implied  in  and  required  by  the  relations  which  are  called  collectively  the 
extension  and  duration  of  such  concrete  realities.  And  yet,  as  has  been 
shown,  they  cannot  be  generalized  nor  defined  by  means  of  any  attributes 
or  relations  whatever,  because  all  such  imply  their  existence.  They  can 
not,  on  the  other  hand,  be  suggested  or  recognized  in  either  thought  or 
language,  except  by  means  of  these  very  relations  which  connect  them 
with  finite  objects. 

It  has  already  been  asserted,  §  517.  (5)  that  the  distinct  recognition  of  these  correlates,  is, 
as  it  were,  the  fifth  or  last  stage  of  the  mind's  attainment  in  cognition,  which  is  reached  by  the 
few  who  are  trained  to  habits  of  speculative  analysis  and  discrimination.  If  this  is  so,  then 
it  is  obvious  that  the  number  of  thinkers  is  very  small  who  have  any  occasion  to  ask  the 
question,  whether  space  and  time  can  be  defined,  or  whether  they  are  known  out  of  relation 
to,  or  by  means  of  their  relations  to  the  concrete.  But  the  persons  who  have  occasion  to  ask 


MATHEMATICAL   RELATIONS  I   TIME   AND    SPACE.  56} 

these  ques  ions  can  certainly  comprehend  that  the  very -relations  which  cannot  possibly  define 
tune  and  space,  because  they  imply  them,  may,  for  this  very  reason,  be  the  only  medium  Oi 
bringing  them  before  the  mind  for  the  uses  of  thought. 

What,  then,  are  space  and  time  f  Are  they  substances,  quali 
anlui^e6? spac6  t^€S  OY  re^a^ons  ?  ^r  are  tnev  ^e  forms  or  subjective  condition* 

of  knowledge  by  sense  or  consciousness  f  or  is  it  impossible  to 
ascertain  what  they  are  ?  These  questions  will  force  themselves  upon  the 
attention  of  a  few  ;  and  require  an  answer. 

Are  they  substances?  That  they  are  material  things  with 
rabatances.  not  sensible  qualities  will  scarcely  be  imagined  or  contended  by 

any  one.  No  one  would  honestly  believe  or  seriously  urge 
that  they  can  be  heard,  or  smelled,  or  seen,  or  tasted,  or  touched. 
All  substances  called  material  are  apprehended  by  some  of  the  senses, 
and  hence  are  regarded  as  having  sensible  qualities.  Space  and  time  are 
not  perceived  in  such  a  way  or  by  such  means,  and  hence  cannot  be  classed 
with  material  substances.  The  earliest  philosophers  might,  perhaps,  have 
regarded  them  as  such  in  their  imperfect  analyses  or  crude  theorizing,  but 
no  sane  thinker  would  now  advance  such  a  dogma.  Nor  are  they 
spiritual  beings.  They  have  none  of  the  properties  of  spirits.  They  can- 
not think,  or  feel,  or  will.  Nor  can  they  be  apprehe  ded  by  conscious- 
ness in  the  special  and  limited  sense  of  the  term.  In  a  general  sense  we 
say  we  are  conscious  of  our  spiritual  acts  as  enduring,  §  554.  But  this  is  no 
more  than  to  say  we  are  conscious  of  the  necessary  relations  of  these 
acts  to  time.  We  never  say  we  are  conscious  of  any  activity  of  time, 
which  is  analogous  to  the  activities  of  a  spiritual  being.  Neither  time  nor 
space  is  a  spiritual  substance. 
Nor  are  they  ma-  Thev  are  not  Qualities  or  properties  of  spirit  or  matter.  Dr. 

terial   or    spiri-     ~  ~,      ,  f      . 

tuai  properties,  Samuel  Clarke  maintained  that  space  and  time  are  attributes 
relations.  or  modes,  and  that  inasmuch  as  they  were  both  infinite,  there 

must  be  an  Infinite  Being  to  which  they  belong.  James  Mill,  in  his 
Analysis  of  the  Human  Mind,  asserts  that  they  are  simply  abstract  terms 
which  stand  for  collective  conceptions  of  those  attributes  of  extension  and 
duration,  which  belong  to  individual  beings  and  acts.  But  it  needs  no  fur- 
ther discussion  to  prove  that  they  are  and  can  be  neither.  Nor  are  they 
simply  relations,  as  Leibnitz  maintained.  This  philosopher  defined  '  space 
as  an  order  of  coexistences,'  and  'time  as  an  order  of  successions.'  "Pour 
moi,  'jai  marque  plus  qu'  une  fois,  **  que  je  tenais  1'espace  pour  quelque 
chose  de  purement  relatif,  comme  le  terns  ;  pour  un  ordre  des  coexistences 
comme  le  terns  est  un  ordre  de  successions." — Third  letter  to  Dr.  S.  Clarke^ 
§  4,  ed.  Erd.  p.  752.  Using  extension  as  its  equivalent,  he  defines  space  as 
the  order  of  possible  coexistences ;  and  time  as  the  order  of  inconstant  pos- 
sibilities. Reply  to  Bayle,  ed.  Erd.  p.  189.  Calderwood  defines  time  aa 
"a  certain  correlation  of  existences,"  and  distinguishes  his  own  view  from 


568  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §585 

that  ot  Hamilton,  who  calls  it  "  the  image  or  concept  of  a  certain  correla* 
tion  of  existences."     The  Phil,  of  the  Infinite,  2d  ed.,  1861,  chap.  v. 

It  is  evident  from  what  has  been  said  already,  that  space  and  time  ar« 
neither  relations  nor  correlations,  but  correlates  to  beings  and  events.  Ex 
tension  and  duration  are  the  relations  or  correlations  in  question ;  but 
these  involve  space  and  time  as  realities. 

Again:  Space  and  time  are  not/ormx  of  intuition  [i.e.,  presentation]  in  the 
subjective  forms  sense  suggested  by  Kant.  This  philosopher  taught  that  if  we  distinguish  the 
of  the  intellect.  matter  apprehended  by  perception  and  consciousness  from  the  forms  of  this 

matter,  then  space  is  the  form  of  sense-perception  or  external  intuition,  and 
time  is  the  form  of  consciousness.  There  is  a  sense  in  which  this  doctrine  is  true.  Extension 
is  the  form  of  all  material  objects  in  the  sense  that  all  such  objects  are  perceived  as  extended, 
and  none  can  be  apprehended  except  under  the  form  or  condition  of  being  extended  objects. 
When  all  the  matter  which  is  given  in  the  various  sensible  qualities  is  thought  away,  the  rela- 
tions of  extension  remain.  This  matter  is  various,  Each  object  has  qualities  of  its  own, 
and  variously  combined,  by  which  it  is  distinguished  from  every  other ;  but  all  objects  are 
extended.  The  same  is  true  of  the  matter  furnished  in  consciousness  as  distinguished  from 
its  relations  of  duration. 

But  the  doctrine  as  further  expounded  by  Kant  is  open  to  two  exceptions.  First:  He 
Kant's  doctrine  ^a^s  *°  distinguish  between  extension  and  duration  as  relations  and  the  correlates  space 
open  to  two  ob-  and  time  which  they  involve.  He  does  not  notice  that  these  very  relations,  after  or 
under  which  all  objects  and  their  concepts  are  :»nd  must  be  formed,  do  in  their  very  na- 
ture involve  the  intuitive  knowledge  of  space  and  time  as  realities,  and  that  to  suppose 
that  they  are  only  forms  is  to  exclude  and  eliminate  that  which  is  given  and  affirmed  by  their  very  nature. 
Second:  The  suggestion  or  the  assumption  that  they  depend  on  the  subjective  constitution  of  the  human 
intellect  is  unwarranted  by  positive  evidence  and  is  contradicted  by  the  testimony  of  the  intellect  itself. 
The  supposition  that  intellects  of  another  order  might  possibly  exist,  which  could  know  objects  without 
the  relations  of  space  and  t.me,  is  without  proof  and  against  proof  (§  533).  In  other  words,  that  which 
makes  it  possible  and  necessary  for  extension  and  duration  to  be  the  forms  of  perception  and  conscious- 
ness is  the  fact  that  the  objects  of  these  two  modes  of  knowledge  are  in  reality  related  to  the  entities  space 
and  time. 

But  what  are  these  entities  ?     Shall  we  say  of  them,  as  St.  Augustine   is 
How  space    and 
time  are  know-      reported  to  have    said — "What    is    time?     If  not    asked,  I   know,  but 

attempting  to  explain,  I  know  not?  " 

This,  in  one  view,  is  correct.  We  know  by  intuition  that  time  and  space  exist,  and  are 
related  to  every  object,  but  to  explain  or  define  what  they  are,  is  not  so  easy.  It  may  relieve 
our  embarrassment  in  part  to  explain  why  we  cannot  answer  the  question  in  one  sense, 
and  why  we  can  in  another.  If,  in  answering  the  question  what,  it  is  expected  or  re- 
quired that  we  should  class  them  with  objects  limited  by  space  or  time,  or  objects  having 
material  or  spiritual  properties,  or  objects  holding  relations  to  space  or  time,  in  other 
words,  that  we  should  class  them  with  beings,  qualities,  or  relations  in  the  ordinary  accepta- 
tion of  these  terms,  then  it  is  obvious  that  we  cannot  answer  this  question  at  all.  We  cannot 
say  ichat  they  are.  But  we  know  that  they  exist,  i  e.,  there  exist  realities  which  answer  to  the 
names.  Their  existence  is  implied  in  the  existence  of  every  limited  object  and  property, 
because  every  such  object  and  property  is  related  to  them.  We  cannot  believe  or  know  that 
the  one  exists  without  knowing  that  the  other  exists  also.  But  can  we  in  any  sense  of  the 
word  what  explain  what  it  is  which  we  know  exists?  We  can,  so  far  as  to  say  that  they  are 
entities  to  which  all  these  limited  objects  are  related,  and  which  are,  therefore,  correlates  to 
them.  If  they  are  correlates  to  all  limited  objects  they  are  known  and  described  by  their  rela- 
tions to  them.  By  their  very  nature  they  are  entities  to  which  these  objects  bear  these  rela« 
tions,  and  by  their  relations  to  these  objects  they  are  known  and  thought  of.  They  cannol 


§586.  CAUSATION    AND   THE   RELATION    OF   CAUSALITY.  56S 

be  said  to  'be  defined  in  the  sense  in  which  limited  objects  are  defined,  but  they  can  be  brought 
to  mind  by  language  as  the  necessary  correlates  of  limited  existences  by  means  of  their  rela- 
tions to  them. 

These  relations  to  both  space  and  time  are  represented  in  thought  and  language  by  means 
of  motion,  as  has  already  been  explained,  and  hence  it  follows  that  space  and  time  are  set 
forth  in  thought  and  language  by  the  same  medium. 

We  conclude,  therefore,  that  though  space  and  time  cannot  be  con 
ceived  or  defined  in  the  sense  in  which  those  objects  can  be  conceived  and 
defined  which  bear  relations  to  them,  yet,  on  the  other  hand,  they  can  be 
thought  by  means  of  their  relations  to  these  objects.  Limited  objects  must 
be  related  to  their  unlimited  correlates.  These  correlates  can  be  known  and 
described  by  means  of  the  relations  which  they  in  their  turn  hold  to  these 
objects.  In  whatever  sense  they  may  be  said  to  be  unconditioned,  infinite, 
and  abgolute,  they  are  not  so  in  any  such  sense  as  to  exclude  the  possi- 
bility of  being  related  to  the  limited  finite.  By  means  of  these  relations 
they  can  be  both  conceived  and  known. 


CHAPTER  V. 

CAUSATION    AND   THE   RELATION    OF   CAUSALITY. 

FROM  the  formal  and  mathematical  intuitions  we  come  to  those  which  are  real,  i.  e.,  which  arc 
required  to  explain  the  attributes  which  are  respectively  distinctive  of  material  and 
spiritual  beings :  which  unite  these  attributes  into  those  concepts  and  classes  which  desig- 
nate the  real  existences  and  agencies  of  nature,  as  well  as  connect  these  with  one  another 
in  those  relations  which  are  necessary  for  the  systematic  and  rational  explanation  of  the 
universe.  Into  these  real  relations  all  the  actually  existing  properties  and  powers  of  mat- 
ter and  spirit  are  resolved.  Under  the  laws  which  regulate  their  operation,  the  effects 
and  purposes  that  describe  the  universe  are  accomplished.  We  shall  consider  first,  the 
relation  of  causality  or  causation.  This  is  preeminently  the  relation  which  is  required  in 
analysis,  as  by  means  of  this,  beings  are  resolved  into  those  elements  of  which  concepts 
are  composed,  which  are  more  or  less  nearly  their  ultimate  elementary  constituents  and  are 
more  or  less  widely  generic  or  extensive,  according  as  thought  and  science  are  more  or  less 
successful  in  their  achievements. 

causation  as  a  §  586<  ^ne  relati°n  °f  causality  is  sometimes  called  the  Prin- 
prmcipie,  and  as  Gipie^  at  other  times  the  Law  of  causality,  causation,  or  cause 
and  effect.  The  first  of  these  appellations  is  subjective  and  logi- 
cal^ and  designates  the  place  which  the  relation  or  the  proposition  in  which 
it  is  expressed  holds  in  the  systematic  arrangement  of  our  knowledge,  cf 
^  514.  The  other  is  objective  and  real,  and  indicates  its  universal  preva- 
lence among  objects  actually  existing.  Causation  as  a  principle  is  placed 
lirst  or  highest  w  th  reference  to  the  other  concepts  or  truths  which  depend 


570  THE    HUMAN    INTELLECT.  §587, 

apon  or  are  derived  from  it — either  relatively  or  absolutely,  according  as 
the  truth  is  received  as  original  or  derived.  Causation  as  a  law  is  viewed 
as  a  relation  actually  prevailing  in  or  ruling  over  the  finite  universe  of 
physical  and  spiritual  being. 

Causation  as  a  law  may  be  stated  thus :  Every  finite  event  is 
•restated.  tw°  a  cause(i  event,  or,  more  briefly,  is  an  effect.  Causation,  aa 

a  principle,  may  be  thus  expressed:  Every  finite  event  may 
be  accounted  for  by  referring  it  to  a  cause  as  the  ground  or  reason  of  its 
existence. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  observe,  that  the  proposition,  every  effect  must 
Tautolo  v  to  be  *iave  a  cause>  *s  Pur>ely  and  simply  identical.  It  is  mere  tautology,  expanding 
avoided.  in  the  predicate  what  had  been  implied  in  the  subject.  The  term  effect,  in 

its  import,  implies  a  cause  by  a  logical  necessity.  To  say  an  effect  must  be 
2aused,  is  as  reasonable  as  to  say,  a  caused  event  is  caused,  or,  xy  —  x  x  y.  \ 

That  the  fact  or  law  of  causation  is  assumed  to  explain  and  justify  reasoning  of  every  sort, 
both  Deductive  and  Inductive,  has  already  been  shown.  A  reference  to  §  515,  will  serve  to 
explain  and  enforce  the  relation  of  causation  as  a  law,  to  causation  as  a  principle,  as  well  as 
to  illustrate  the  sameness  and  difference  between  a  real  and  a  logical  relation. 

Many  Physicists  insist  that  a  distinction  should  be  invariably  made  between  the  laws 
Power  and  law  °f  nature  and  the  powers,  forces  or  causal  agencies  of  nature,  and  that  law  should  be  in- 
how  distinguish-  variably  restricted  to  the  conditions  or  regulating  methods  of  the  acting  or  working  of 
e<i.  these  powers  and  forces,  a  formal  statement  or  formula  of  which  is  that  alone  which  de- 

serves to  be  called  a  law.  Tried  by  this  dictum,  the  phrase,  the  Law  of  Causality,  would 
not  be  accepted.  That  it  is  not  improper  is  manifest,  from  the  considei-atiou  that  it  describes  and  assumes 
the  fact,  that  the  causative  relation  is  universally  applicable  to  every  event  or  begun  existence.  So  con- 
ceived, the  fact  may  properly  be  called  a  Law  or  Universal  Method  of  nature. 

§  587.  Causation,  both  as  law  and  principle,  is  affirmed  of 
' 8  a  n  events-  But  what  is  an  event  f  An  event  is  something 

which  is  known  to  be,  which  was  not ;  or  which  begins  to  be 
or  to  occur.  Events  are,  therefore,  finite,  i.  e.,  limited  by  relations  of  space 
or  time.  Their  existence  or  occurrence  implies  change.  Something  is 
here  and  now  which  was  not.  Of  these  changes  it  is  affirmed  that  they 
were  caused. 

In  the  material  world,  events  are  changes  of  place  or  relative  position,  mo- 
Events  in  the  tions  in  space,  changes  of  form,  changes  of  properties  in  respect  to  existence  or 
material  world,  intensity.  If  an  iron  ball  is  found  in  a  new  resting-place ;  if  we  see  it  hurled 

through  the  air  ;  if  it  is  beaten  into  a  cubical  form  ;  if  it  is  rolled  into  a  mass, 
or  drawn  into  wire;  if,  under  the  strokes  of  the  hammer,  it  is  heated,  or  magnetized,  or  made 
brittle,  these  are  all  events,  t.  «.,  now  occurrences  in  the  sense  of  our  proposition.  They  are 
often  called  phenomena,  i.  e.,  manifestations  to  the  senses  or  the  consciousness  of  some 
causal  power  or  agency. 

Events  or  phenomena  are  more  numerous  and  conspicuous  in  the  vegetable  and 
Intheve  etable  an^ma^  world.  There  is  growth,  change  of  form  and  of  structure,  the  mani- 
and  animal  festation  of  new  colors,  odors,  etc.  Above  all,  there  is  constant  motion,  as  hi 

the  plant  that  waves  its  stem  and  top  as  if  impatient  that  it  is  fastened  by  the 
roots  ;o  the  earth;  and  in  the  animal,  that  moves  from  place  to  place,  and  with  its  limbs,  voice 
and  features,  is  ever  making  some  new  manifestation  that  asks  to  be  explained. 


§588.  CAUSATION   AND   THE    RELATION   OF   CAUSALITY.  571 

In  the  mental  or  spiritual  sphere,  there  is  ceaseless  activity  and  endless  pro 
In    the  mental     duction.     New  thoughts,  new  feelings,  new  purposes  flit  before  the  observanl 
eye  of  consciousness  faster  than  they  can  be  accounted  for.     With  the  pro- 
gress of  time,  the  mind  is  aware  of  an  increase  of  its  power  to  remember,  to 
imagine,  to  reason,  to  feel,  and  to  resolve.     All  these  are  events  or  phenomena. 

But  besides  phenomena  of  these  classes,  in  acts,  states,  or  qualities,  more  or 
tio^of  newdb£  less  IastinS  »  tnere  are  sti11  others  in  the  existence  and  production  of  new  and 
iogs.  separate  beings  which  deserve  preeminently  to  be  called  events,  of  each  of 

which  a  cause  or  causes  are  affirmed. 

Such  are  the  division  or  disintegration  of  masses  of  matter  by  mechanical  crushing  or  pres- 
sure, and  the  production  of  new  compounds  by  chemical  union  or  their  decomposition  into  sim- 
pler elements,  as  the  generation  of  a  gas  or  the  deoxydation  of  a  metal.  Jn  vegetable  and 
animal  life,  we  have  the  seed  or  the  egg,  in  each  of  which  are  the  beginnings  of  a  new  living 
being,  which,  after  passing  through  the  required  processes,  becomes  completely  independent 
of  its  originator,  and  assumes  the  size,  the  strength,  and  developed  properties  of  a  separate  ex- 
istence. Spiritual  beings  also  begin  to  exist.  They  emerge  to  view  by  acts  which  show  their 
presence  and  their  power.  They  are  sources  of  knowledge,  power,  wealth,  comfort,  and  hope 
to  other  beings. 

Besides  these,  there  are  conditions  or  states  more  or  less  permanent  which  require  to  be 
accounted  for,  such  as  the  equilibria  of  forces  or  pressures,  as  illustrated  in  the  action  of 
gravitation  or  electricity,  of  fluids,  currents,  and  other  tendencies.  All  these,  so  far  as  the 
law  of  causation  is  concerned,  come  under  the  class  of  events  or  phenomena. 

8  588.  Many  of  these  so-called  events   and   phenomena  are 

Many  events  are     ^  . 

combined  of  sev-  &  combination  of  several.  They  are  complexes  made  up  of 
many  units.  But  the  single  or  simple  units  are  none  the  less 
truly  events  than  the  wholes  of  which  they  are  constituents.  Whether 
the  event  in  question  is  known  to  he  simple,  or  whether  it  is  not,  and  yet 
is  supposed  to  be  simple,  the  rule  holds  good  of  it,  that,  whether  simple 
or  complex,  it  must  be  caused.  Hence  it  makes  no  difference  so 
far  as  the  application  of  our  principle  is  concerned,  whether  the  event 
or  phenomenon  has  or  has  not  been  subjected  to  a  finished  analysis, 
i.  6.,  whether  it  has  or  has  not  been  resolved  into  its  ultimate  elements.  If 
the  question  be  raised,  What  is  an  event  that  cannot  be  further  resolved, 
what  is  a  single,  or  the  simplest  phenomenon  ?  we  have  only  to  reply,  that 
any  change  the  least  extensive  in  space,  or  the  briefest  possible  in  time, 
which  can  be  discerned  by  human  observation,  is  a  single  event.  It  is 
the  last  product  or  result  of  the  most  refined  analysis  of  which  human 
knowledge  is  capable,  when  assisted  by  every  appliance  of  discipline  and 
culture  and  art. 

When  we  say,  every  event  is  caused  or  has  a  cause,  we  distinguish  between 
Every  cause  is  Deings>  tneir  acts»  and  their  products.  Every  cause  is  an  acting  being  and 
an  acting  being.  an  agent  acting  to  some  result.  The  result  is  the  effect.  Any  thing  what- 
ever, so  far  as  it  is  a  cause,  is  a  being,  and  not  a  phenomenon.  It  may  be 
itself  an  effect  or  product  of  the  action  or  causal  efficiency  of  another  being  or  beings,  but  that 
which  is  produced  is  capable  of  action  of  its  own.  A  mere  phenomenon  or  event  as  such,  is  not 
"egarded  as  a  cause,  but  only  as  an  effect.  What  is  the  difference  be'.ween  an  acting  Wng 


572  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §590. 

and  its  capacities,  or  acts,  or  attributes,  will  be  considered  in  its  place.     It  is  enough  that  at 
present  we  notice  that  the  distinction  is  real. 

§  589.  Again :  We  distinguish  between  the  cause  of  an  event 
tinguished  frcJm  and  the  conditions  of  its  actually  producing  the  effect.  The 

stroke  of  a  hammer  is  the  cause  of  the  fracture  of  a  stone, 
of  the  flattening  of  a  leaden  bullet,  of  the  heating  of  a  bit  of  iron.  The 
conditions  of  the  effect  would,  in  such  a  case,  be  said  to  be  the  properties 
of  the  stone,  the  bullet,  or  the  iron.  If  the  breaking,  the  flattening,  or 
the  heating  of  the  mass  are  the  several  effects  of  the  common  cause,  the 
varying  effects  are  ascribed  to  the  varying  conditions  under  which,  or  the 
objects  upon  which  it  acts. 

In  this  case  the  effect  is  more  properly  said  to  be  the  resultant  of  the  joint  action  of  the 
striking  hammer  and  the  resisting  stone,  lead,  and  iron.  This  doctrine  is  thus  generalized  by 
Mill  :  "The  real  cause  is  the  whole  of  these  antecedents  (or  conditions),  and  we  have,  philo- 
sophically speaking,  no  right  to  give  the  name  of  cause  to  one  of  them  exclusively  of  the 
others."  Log.,  B.  iii.  c.  v.  §  3.  To  the  same  effect,  says  Hamilton :  "  Every  effect  is  only 
produced  by  the  concurrence  of  at  least  two  causes  (and  by- cause,  be  it  observed,  I  mean  every 
thing  without  which  the  effect  could  not  be  realized)."  Met.  Lee.  3.  In  common  life  a  dis- 
tinction is  made  between  the  efficient  and  patient  cause,  the  last  being  put  for  the  object,  i.  e., 
that  in  which  the  causal  agency  is  manifested,  or  upon  which  it  is  exerted.  It  is  obvious  that 
that  whose  activity  is  most  obvious  or  demonstrative,  is  called  the  efficient.  The  patient  or 
recipient  often  manifests  no  force  at  all,  as  the  cohesion  of  the  stone,  lead,  or  iron  in  the  cases 
supposed. 

Sometimes  the  objects  in  their  matter  and  chief  elements  are  said  to  be  the 
Wher  conditions  same>  but  the  force  or  causal  agency  is  applied  under  diverse  conditions  of 
are  laws.  quantity,  time,  or  distance,  as  a  chemical  agent  is  doubled ;  the  gravitating 

force  operates  at  a  varying  distance ;  a  wave  of  light  acts  with  twice  a  given 
rapidity.  These  last  are  called  in  scientific  language,  the  laws  of  the  acting  of  forces  or  pow- 
ers (causal  agents)  of  nature. 

§  590.  With  these  explanations  of  the  import  of  the  terms 

The  principle  of"  ..  .-,...•,, 

causality  mtui-    of  our  proposition,  we  assert  that  the  mind  intuitively  be- 

fcively  evident.  %  .    J 

neves  that  every  event  is  caused,  *.  6.,  every  event  is  pro- 
duced by  the  action  of  some  agent  or  agents,  which,  with  respect  to  the 
effect,  are  called  its  cause  or  its  causes. 

The  reasons  for  this  view  are  the  following : 

(a)  All  that  we  do  in  common  or  practical  life,  rests  upon 
pSnhfg  events"  an<^  *s  directed  by  the  assumption  of  this  truth.  Our  explan- 
ations of  events  that  have  occurred  would  have  no  meaning 
without  it.  They  consist  in  referring  these  phenomena  to  the  beings  or 
the  agencies  which  Have  occasioned  them.  When  these  producing  agents 
are  discovered,  and  the  modes  and  laws  of  their  action  are  referred  to  or 
unfolded  for  the  first  time,  the  process  of  explanation  is  complete. 
Ground  of  seek-  (fy  When  an  event  has  occurred  which  is  not  yet  accounted 
fo/an^vmTtm-  for>  *^e  mind  is  aroused  to  the  effort  to  solve  or  explain  its 
explained.  occurrence;  it  believes  just  as  firmly  that  it  can  be  accounted 


§591.  CAUSATION   AND   THE    RELATION    OF    CAUSALITY.  57o 

for  in  the  way  described,  as  if  the  explanation  had  been  in  fact  attained. 
It  is  as  confident  that  its  occurrence  depends  upon  some  cause  or  causes, 
before,  as  after  the  cause  has  been  determined.  Upon  this  confidence  rest 
all  the  inquiries  and  experiments  which  it  sets  on  foot. 

(c)  Not  only  does  the  mind  explain  the  past,  but  it  relies 
SS£n*  °f  pre"    uPon  tne  future,  on  the  ground  of  its  faith  in  causation.    It 

provides  for  or  secures  future  results  by  availing  itself  of  the 
causes  which  it  knows  will  produce  them.  It  employs  these  agents  in  all 
its  plans  and  experiments  with  entire  certainty  concerning  the  results 
which  they  will  effect.  It  predicts  these  results  with  confidence  so  soon 
as  it  is  certain  of  all  the  causes  which  are  or  may  be  put  into  action. 

(d)  In  these  explanations  and  experiments  the  mind  is  im- 
orouiid  of  curi-    pened  by  a  special  emotion,  called  curiosity.     Curiosity  is 

»  more  than  an  interest  and  desire  to  know  an  event  as  a  fact ; 

it  impels  to  the  knowledge  of  its  causes  and  laws,  of  its  origin  and  growth. 
The  existence  of  a  strong  and  apparently  original  emotional  capacity  of 
this  sort  confirms  the  view  that  the  relation  itself  is  original  as  a  law  of 
existence,  and  that  the  belief  in  it  is  a  fundamental  principle  of  the  mind's 
knowledge. 

What  the  mind  unconsciously  assumes  to  be  true  in  practical  life,  it  dis- 
d  tmctly  and  consciously  applies  in  all  the  methods  and  processes  of  thought 
scientific  pro-  and  of  science.  We  have  seen  that  deductive  reasoning  has  no  meaning  ex- 
cept the  relation  of  causality  is  assumed,  and  that  induction  in  its  researches 
after  the  forces  and  laws  of  matter  and  of  spirit,  makes  the  same  assumption.  Science,  in  all 
its  processes,  investigates  the  properties,  the  powers,  the  forces,  the  attributes,  and  the  laws 
of  all  existing  objects.  But  properties,  powers,  forces,  and  attributes  are  all  of  them  terms 
which  directly  assert  or  indirectly  imply  that  there  is  a  causal  energy  or  activity  in  these  ob- 
jects. The  laws  of  matter  and  of  spirit  have  no  import,  and  can  admit  no  application  except 
as  causal  agencies  are  affirmed  which  these  laws  measure  or  formulate.  Except  as  the  causal 
relation  is  believed  or  assumed,  scientific  knowledge  can  have  no  import,  and  scientific  inqui- 
ries would  be  meaningless  and  impossible. 

Moreover :  the  relation  of  causality  is  wrought  into  and  expressed  by  the 
Confirmed  by  structure  of  language.  There  are,  in  every  language,  classes  of  single  words, 
language.  and  combinations  of  words,  which  decisively  prove  that  this  relation  is  held  to 

be  real  by  all  men.  There  are  words  which  express  causal  activity,  words 
which  express  the  reception  of  such  activity,  and  words  which  express  the  change  which  ia 
wrought  in  an  object  by  means  of  causal  activity.  The  grammar  of  every  language  furnishes 
proof  of  this,  both  in  its  etymology  and  its  syntax. 

These  considerations  prove  decisively,  that  causality,  as  a 

Meets    all    the         _      .  .      .    ,  ...         J  \  „,          .    J       , .. 

criteria  of  a  first    relation  or  principle,  meets  all  the  criteria  ot  universatuy, 
necessity,  and  certainty.     If  it  cannot  be  resolved  into  some 
other  relation  equally  general,  or  more  general  than  itself,  we  must  con- 
clude that  it  is  original,  and  intuitively  discerned  and  believed. 

8  591.  The  history  of  speculation  abounds  in  attempts   to 

Resolvedby     ',.,,.  ,  ,    ,.  »  ... 

many  in  to  a    explain  the  relation  of  causality  by  some  relation  ot  time. 
This  is  not  surprising.     The  relations  of  time  pertain  to  all 


574"  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  591 

objects  whatever.  If  objects  are  connected  by  the  relation  of  casuality, 
the  same  objects  must  be  united  to  observation,  either  as  co-existent  or  as 
successive.  The  most  conspicuous  advocates  of  this  disposition  or  solu- 
tion of  the  causal  relation,  are  David  Hume,  Dr.  Thomas  Brown^  and 
John  Stuart  Mill 

In  connection  with  the  views  of  each  concerning  the  nature  of  the 
causal  relation,  it  will  be  convenient  to  give  their  views  of  the  way  in 
which  the  mind  is  led  to  accept  the  principle  of  causality. 

The  theory  of  Hume  deserves  consideration  for  the  clear  statements  and 
The  Theory  of  lucid  style  in  which  it  is  presented,  for  the  ability  with  which  it  is  defended 
portance.It8  "^  as  wel1  as  for  its  Sreat  importance  in  the  history  of  modern  speculation.  It 

is  well  known  that  it  was  Hume's  theory  of  causation  which  roused  to  more 
profound  researches  the  antagonist  philosophies  of  both  Reid  and  Kant. 
What  his  theory  was  may  be  learned  from  his  own  language. 

"  The  first  time  a  man  saw  the  communication  of  motion  by  impulse,  as  by  the  shock  of  two  billiard- 
balls,  he  could  not  pronounce  that  the  one  event  was  connected,  but  only  that  it  was  conjoined  with  the 
other.  After  he  has  observed  several  instances  of  this  nature,  he  then  pronounces  them  to  be  connected. 
What  alteration  has  happened  to  give  rise  to  this  new  idea  of  connexion  f  Nothing  but  that  he  now  fecit 
these  events  to  be  connected  in  his  imagination,  and  can  readily  foretell  the  existence  of  one  from  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  other.  When  \ve  say,  therefore,  that  one  object  is  connected  with  another,  we  mean  only 
that  they  have  acquired  a  connexion  in  our  thought,  and  gave  rise  to  this  inference,  by  which  they  become 
proofs  of  each  other's  existence ;  a  conclusion  which  is  somewhat  extraordinary,  but  which  seems  founded 
on  sufficient  evidence."  *  *  "  We  may  define  a  cause  to  be  an  object  followed  by  another,  and  where  all 
the  objects,  similar  to  the  first,  are  followed  by  objects  similar  to  the  second.  Or,  In  other  words,  where  if 
the  first  object  had  not  been,  the  second  never  had  existed.  The  appearance  of  a  cause  always  conveys 
the  mind,  by  a  customary  transition,  to  the  idea  of  the  effect.  Of  this  we  have  experience.  We  may 
therefore,  suitably  to  this  experience,  form  another  definition  of  cause,  and  call  it,  an  object  followed  by 
another  and  whose  appearance  always  conveys  the  thought  to  that  other." — An  Inquiry  concerning  the 
Human  Understanding,  Sec.  vii.  p.  ii. 

"  Necessity  is  something  that  exists  in  the  mind,  not  in  objects ;  nor  is  it  possible  for  us  ever  to  form 
the  most  distant  idea  of  it  considered  as  a  quality  in  bodies.  Either  we  have  no  idea  of  necessity,  or  ne- 
cessity is  nothing  but  that  determination  of  the  thought  to  pass  from  causes  to  effects,  and  from  effects  to 
causes,  according  to  their  experienced  union.  Thus  the  necessity,  which  makes  two  times  two  equal  to 
four,  or  three  angles  of  a  triangle  equal  to  two  right  ones,  lies  only  in  the  act  of  the  understanding,  by 
which  we  consider  and  compare  these  ideas  ;  in  like  manner  the  necessity  of  power  which  unites  causes 
and  effects,  lies  in  the  determination  of  the  mind  to  pass  from  the  one  to  the  other."  *  *  "  There  may  be 
two  definitions  given  of  this  relation,  which  are  only  different  by  their  presenting  a  different  view  of  the 
same  object,  and  making  us  consider  it  either  as  a  philosophical  or  as  a  natural  relation  ;  either  as  a  com- 
parison of  two  ideas  or  as  an  association  betwixt  them.  We  may  define  a  cause  to  be  '  an  object  precedent 
and  contiguous  to  another,  and  where  all  the  objects  resembling  the  former  are  placed  in  like  relations  of 
precedency  and  contiguity  to  those  objects  that  resemble  the  latter.'  If  this  definition  be  esteemed  de- 
fective, because  drawn  from  objects  foreign  to  the  case,  we  may  substitute  this  other  definition  in  its 
place,  viz..  '  a  cause  is  an  object  precedent  and  contiguous  to  another,  and  so  united  with  it  that  the  idea 
of  the  one  determines  the  mind  to  form  the  idea  of  the  other,  and  the  impression  of  the  one  to  form  a 
more  lively  idea  of  the  other.'  " — A  Treatise  of  Human  Nature,  B.  I.  sec.  xiv. 

The  Theory  contained  in  these  statements  and  definitions  is 

The  Theory  of          .    „        ,  . 

Hume  as  briefly    briefly  this :  a  cause  is  a  constantly  precedent,  and  an  effect  a 

summed  up.  ,  ..  ^( 

constantly  subsequent  event.  Ihey  are  discovered  to  be 
such  by  the  constant  conjunction  of  the  two.  The  necessity  by  which 
objects  conjoined,  are  connected  as  cause  and  effect,  arises  from  their 
being  united  in  the  mind's  own  experience,  and  the  circumstance  that  the 
thought  or  observation  of  the  one  determines  the  mind  to  a  lively  idea 
of  the  other. 


§591.  CASSATION    AND   THE   RELATION    OP   CAUSALITY.  675 


Does  not  profess  ^  ^^Q  reflection  reveals  the  fact  that  Hume  does  not  at  all  account  for  the 
to  be  universal  belief  or  expectation  that  every  event  or  object  is  connected  with  some  other 
tfon!  S  '  as  its  attendant  cause  or  effect.  His  analysis,  admitting  it  to  be  sufficient  for 

those  cases  to  which  it  is  applied,  would  only  explain  why  some  few  events 
are  connected  with  certain  others  as  causes  or  effects,  but  does  not  show  at  all,  why  it  is 
believed  that  all  events  are  so  conjoined,  nor  why  the  mind  is  restless  or  unsatisfied,  till  it 
has  discovered  to  every  event  its  antecedent  or  subsequent  known  as  cause  or  effect. 

The  resolution  of  the  objective  reality  of  this  connection  into 
"Why  it  fails  to  a  mere  subjective  association  of  the  two  terms  fails  to  satisfy 

satisfy  the  mind.  J  J 

the  mind,  because  it  does  not  account  for  what  is  believed. 
How  the  mind  comes  to  think  of  the  one  when  the  other  is  observed  or 
thought  of,  is  a  very  different  question  from  this,  '  how  or  by  what  rela- 
tion does  the  mind  believe  that  the  objects  thus  thought  of  together,  are 
connected  in  fact  ?  '  It  is  a  mere  truism  to  say  that  objects  observed  or 
thought  of  together  will  be  conjoined  by  association.  That  the  mind  is 
determined  to  think  of  the  one  by  means  of  the  other,  is  not  the  same 
thing  as  that  the  mind  is  determined  to  believe  that  the  one  is  the  cause 
of  the  other. 

It  should  be  remembered,  in  justice  to  Hume,  that  his  theory  of  causation  is 
A  special  appli-  only  a  special  application  of  his  general  theory  of  knowledge  —  that  belief  or 
generaHheory.8  knowh3dge  of  every  kind  and  in  respect  to  all  sorts  of  objects  is  only  a  vivid 

suggestion  of  an  u  idea  "  by  an  "  impression  "  or  another  "  idea."  In  the 
language  of  later  philosophers  it  would  be  called  an  "  inseparable  association  "  of  one  with 
the  other.  That  H  ume  should  apply  this  general  definition  to  the  special  case  of  causation  is 
no  more  than  was  natural  or  consistent,  cf.  §  43. 

The  Theory  of  Dr.  Thomas  Brown  is  closely  assimilated  with 

The    theory    of  '  J  ,  •,-,.•/» 

Dr.  Thomas    the  theory  of  Hume  in  certain  features,  though   it  is  far 

Brown.  . 

removed  from  it  in  others.  Brown  agrees  with  Hume  that 
the  relation  of  cause  and  effect  is  nothing  more  than  the  constant  and 
invariable  connection  of  two  objects  in  time,  —  the  one  as  antecedent  and 
the  other  as  consequent.  Bro.wn  differs  from  Hume  in  holding  that  two 
objects  need  only  be  conjoined  in  a  single  instance  in  order  to  be  known 
as  cause  and  effect  respectively,  while  the  theory  of  Hume  requires  that 
they  must  be  frequently  conjoined  in  order  to  be  causally  connected. 
Indeed  the  whole  force  and  meaning  of  Hume's  causal  connection  depends 
upon  the  tendency  of  the  mind  to  think  of  those  objects  together  which 
have  been  observed  to  be  conjoined  in  fact.  Brown  contends  that  the 
only  use  of  repeated  observations  is  to  enable  the  mind  to  analyze  or 
separate  complex  objects  into  their  ultimate  elements  ;  for  a  single  conjunc- 
tion of  any  two  clearly  distinguished  objects  gives  their  causal  con- 
nection. Hume  makes  our  conviction  of  the  reality  of  this  connection  to 
consist  in  and  depend  upon  the  mind's  tendency  to  associate  objects  cus- 
tomarily united.  Brown  resolves  this  conviction  into  an  origiial  necessity 
or  law  of  our  nature. 


576  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §591 

41 A  cause,  therefore,  in  the  fullest  definition  which  it  philosophically  admits,  may  he  said  tc  be,  thai 
which  immediately  precedes  any  change,  and  which,  existing  at  any  time  in  similar  circumstances,  has  been 
always  and  will  be  always,  immediately  followed  by  a  similar  change.  Priority  in  the  sequence  observed, 
and  invariableness  of  antecedence  in  the  past  and  future  sequences  supposed,  are  the  elements,  and  the 
only  elements,  combined  in  the  notion  of  cause.  By  a  conversion  of  terms,  we  obtain  a  definition  of  the 
correlative  effect ;  and  power,  as  I  have  before  observed,  is  only  another  word  for  expressing  abstractly 
and  briefly  the  antecedence  itself  and  the  invariableness  of  the  relation.1'— Inquiry  into  the  Relation  of 
?ause  and  Effect,  Part  I.  sec.  1.  Of.  Lectures,  Lee.  vii. 

The  theory  of  both  Hume  and  of  Brown  has  in  its  essential 
features  been  so  entirely  reproduced  by  J.  S.  Mill  and  so 
carefully  elaborated  in  its  application  to  the  philosophy  of 
Induction,  that  a  consideration  of  it  in  its  more  fully  developed  form  is 
required.  Mill  is  the  best  representative  as  well  as  the  ablest  advocate 
of  that  philosophy  which  denies  all  original  intuitions  and  necessary 
truths,  and  resolves  our  beliefs  of  this  sort  into  inductions  or  inseparable 
associations,  acquired  or  confirmed  by  often  repeated  experience.  His 
views  deserve  a  careful  consideration  by  all  those  who  would  be  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  course  of  modern  speculation.  They  are  fully  and 
fairly  stated  in  his  own  language,  in  the  following  passages  from  hia 
System  of  Logic. 

"  The  law  of  causation,  the  recognition  of  which  is  the  main  pillar  of  inductive  philosophy,  is  but  the 
familiar  truth,  that  invariability  of  succession  is  found  by  observation  to  obtain  between  every  fact  ip 
nature  and  some  other  fact  which  has  preceded  it."  *  *  "To  certain  facts,  certain  facts  always  do  and 
as  we  believe  always  will  succeed.  The  invariable  antecedent  is  termed  the  cause  ;  the  invariable  conse- 
quent, the  effect ;  and  the  universality  of  the  law  of  causation  consists  in  this,  that  every  consequent  is 
connected  in  this  manner  with  some  particular  antecedent,  or  set  of  antecedents.  Let  the  fact  be  what  it 
may,  if  it  has  begun  to  exist,  it  was  preceded  by  some  fact  or  facts,  with  which  it  is  invariably  connected." 
— B.  III.  c.  v.  §  2. 

"It  is  seldom,  if  ever,  between  a  consequent  and  one  single  antecedent,  that  this  invariable  sequence 
subsists.  It  is  usually  between  a  consequent  and  the  sum  of  several  antecedents,  the  concurrence  of  all 
being  requisite  to  produce,  that  is,  to  be  certain  of  being  followed  by,  the  consequent." — B.  III.  c.  v.  §  3. 

"  As  to  the  ulterior  question,  whether  it  is  strictly  necessary  that  the  cause  or  assemblage  of  condi- 
tions should  precede,  by  ever  so  short  an  instant,  the  production  of  the  effect?— we  think  the  inquiry  an 
unimportant  one.  There  certainly  are  cases  in  which  the  effect  follows  without  any  interval  perceptible  to 
our  faculties  ;  and  when  there  is  an  interval  we  cannot  tell  by  how  many  intermediate  links,  imperceptible 
to  us,  that  interval  may  really  be  filled  up.  But  even  granting  that  an  effect  may  commence  simultane- 
ously with  its  cause,  the  view  I  have  taken  of  causation  is  in  no  way  practically  affected.  Whetht  t  the 
cause  and  its  effect  be  necessarily  successive  or  not,  causation  is  still  the  law  of  the  succession  of  pheno- 
mena. Every  thing  which  begins  to  exist  must  have  a  cause  ;  what  does  not  begin  to  exist  does  not  need 
a  cause;  what  causation  has  to  account  for  is  the  origin  of  phenomena,  and  all  the  successions  of  pheno- 
mena must  be  resolved  into  causation.  These  are  the  axioms  of  our  doctrine.  If  these  be  granteJ,  we 
can  afford,  though  I  see  no  necessity  for  doing  so,  to  drop  the  words  antecedent  and  consequent  as  aj  plied 
to  cause  and  effect.  I  have  no  objection  to  define  a  cause,  the  assemblage  of  phenomena,  which  occiuring, 
some  other  phenomenon  invariably  commences  or  has  its  origin.  Whether  the  effect  coincides  in  point  of 
time  with,  or  immediately  follows,  the  hindmost  of  its  conditions,  is  immaterial.  At  all  events  it  does  not 
precede  it ;  and  when  we  are  in  doubt,  between  two  coexistent  phenomena,  which  is  cause  and  which  effect, 
we  rightly  deem  the  question  solved  if  we  can  ascertain  which  of  them  preceded  the  other." — B.  III. 
c.  v.  $  6. 

"  With  respect  to  the  general  law  of  causation  it  does  appear  that  there  must  have  been  a  time  whet; 
the  universal  prevalence  of  that  law  throughout  nature  could  not  have  been  affirmed  in  the  same  confident 
and  unqualified  manner  as  at  present.  There  was  a  time  when  many  of  the  phenomena  of  nature  must 
have  appeared  altogether  capricious  and  irregular,  not  governed  by  any  laws,  nor  steadily  consequent 
upon  any  causes."  *  *  "  The  truth  is,  as  M.  Cointe  has  well  pointed  out,  that  (although  the  generalizing 
propersity  must  have  prompted  mankind  from  almost  the  beginning  of  their  experience  to  ascribe  all 
events  to  some  cause  more  or  less  mysterious)  the  conviction  that  phenomena  have  invariable  laws,  and 
follow  with  regularity  certain  antecedent  phenomena,  was  only  acquired  gradually ;  and  extended  itself 


§591.  CAUSATION   AND   THE    RELATION    OF   CAUSALITY.  577 

as  knowledge  advanced,  from  one  order  of  phenomena  to  another,  beginning  with  those  whose  laws  are 
most  accessible  to  observation,"— B.  III.  c.  xxi.  §  3. 

"  I  apprehend  that  the  considerations  which  give,  at  the  present  day,  to  the  proof  of  the  law  of  uni- 
formity of  succession,  as  true  of  all  phenomena  without  exception,  this  character  of  completeness  and 
ronclusiveness,  are  the  following  :  First,  that  we  now  know  it  directly  to  be  true  of  far  the  greater  number 
of  phenomena ;  that  there  are  none  of  which  we  know  it  not  to  be  true,  the  utmost  that  can  be  said  being 
«,hat  of  somi!  we  cannot  positively,  from  direct  evidence,  affirm  its  truth,"  etc.,  etc.  "  Besides  this  first 
clnss  of  considerations  there  is  a  second,  which  still  further  corroborates  the  conclusion,  and  from  the  re- 
cognition of  which  the  complete  establishment  of  the  universal  law  may  reasonably  be  dated.  Although 
there  are  phenomena,  the  production  and  changes  of  which  elude  all  our  attempts  to  reduce  them  uni- 
versally to  any  ascertained  law,  yet  in  every  such  case,  the  phenomenon  or  the  objects  concerned  in  it, 
are  found,  in  some  instances,  to  obey  the  known  laws  of  nature.  The  wind,  for  example,  is  the  type  of 
uncertainty  and  caprice,  yet  we  find  it  in  some  cases  obeying,  with  as  much  constancy  as  any  phenomena 
in  nature,  the  law  of  the  tendency  in  fluids  to  distribute  themselves  so  as  to  equalize  the  pressure  on  every 
side  of  each  of  their  particles  ;  as  in  the  case  of  the  trade-winds  and  the  monsoons."  *  *  "  When  every 
phenomenon  that  we  know  sufficiently  well  to  be  able  to  answer  the  question,  had  a  cause  on  which  it  was 
invariably  consequent,  it  was  more  rational  to  suppose  that  our  inability  to  assign  the  causes  of  other  phe- 
nomena arose  from  our  ignorance,  than  that  there  were  phenomena  which  were  uncaused,  and  which  hap- 
pened accidentally  to  be  exactly  those  which  we  had  hitherto  had  no  suflicient  opportunity  of  studying. 
It  must,  at  the  same  time,  be  remarked,  that  the  reasons  for  this  reliance  do  not  hold  in  circumstances  un- 
known to  us,  and  beyond  the  possible  range  of  our  experience.  In  distant  parts  of  the  stellar  regions, 
where  the  phenomena  may  be  entirely  unlike  tbose  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  it  would  be  folly  to  af- 
firm confidently  that  this  general  law  prevails,  any  more  than  those  special  ones  which  we  have  found  to 
hold  universally  on  our  own  planet.  The  uniformity  in  the  succession  of  events,  otherwise  called  the  law 
of  causation,  must  be  received  not  as  a  law  of  the  universe,  but  of  that  portion  of  it  only  which  is  within 
the  range  of  our  means  of  sure  observation,  with  a  reasonable  degree  of  extension  to  adjacent  cases.  To  ex- 
tend it  further  is  to  make  a  supposition  without  evidence,  and  to  which,  in  the  absence  of  any  ground  from 
experience  for  estimating  its  degree  of  probability,  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  affect  to  assign  it.'1— B.  III. 
c.  xxi.  §§4,  5. 

summary  of  ^e  doctrine  contained  in  these  extracts  may  be  summed  up 
if  a' ^aSm0  to  ^n  ^e  following  propositions.  Causation  does  not  imply 
H'U  mhe°riaBn°d  production,  dependence,  efficiency  or  force,  but  simply  uni- 
Brown.  form  succession  or  constant  conjunction.  All  events  or 

begun  existences  are  or  may  be  presumed  to  be  invariably  preceded  by 
certain  events,  more  or  fewer,  in  a  set  or  assemblage.  Each  one  of  these  is 
as  truly  a  cause  as  any  other. 

The  law  or  principle  of  causation,  according  to  Mill,  is  the  ascertained 
fact  or  general  proposition  that  every  event  is  preceded  by  or  connected 
with  some  invariable  combination  or  set  of  events. 

The  conviction  that  this  is  the  law  of  all  events  in  the  universe  is  de- 
nied by  Mill  to  be  an  original  or  necessary  intuition,  but  is  asse?  ted 
to  be  a  generalized  belief  which  is  gradually  acquired  as  the  result  of  induc- 
tions applied  more  and  more  extensively  in  the  observation  of  the  fact?,  ot 
the  universe.  But  induction  is  resolved  by  Mill  into  inseparable  asso 
ciation,  so  that  in  the  last  analysis  or  ultimate  resolution  of  the  ground  of 
our  belief  in  the  principle  of  causation,  Mill  and  Hume  are  one.  Brown,  on 
the  other  hand,  contends  that  the  conviction  is  original  and  necessary,  or 
at  least  that  there  is  an  irresistible  tendency  in  our  nature  towards  such  a 
belief.  On  the  other  hand,  Brown  resolves  many  of  our  apparently  neces- 
sary beliefs  into  "  inseparable,"  or  more  precisely,  insuperable  associations 
So  that  Mill  finds  in  the  general  drift  and  tendency  of  Brown's  Philosophy 
37 


578  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  g  592 

an  authority  for  the  prevailing  spirit  of  his  own  views  concerning  intui 
tive  truths. 

Time-relations  §  592<  Against  t^6  views  of  Mill  and  others,  we  contend  that 
noT^'constitute  ^  re^at^on  °^  causation  cannot  be  resolved  into  any  relations 
the  causal.  of  Time.  Our  reasons  are  these.  It  is  conceded  by  Mill,  that 

in  some  cases,  no  interval  of  antecedence  or  succession  can  be  discerned 
between  the  cause  and  the  eifect.  Under  the  pressure  of  this  undeniable 
fact,  he  contends  that  though  this  is  true,  yet  all  those  cases  in  which  we 
have  occasion  to  resort  to  the  law  of  causation,  are  cases  of  begun  exist- 
ence, in  which  the  cause  is  obviously  before  the  effect.  He  insists  therefore 
that  "practically  "  his  view  of  the  nature  of  causation  cannot  be  contro- 
verted. This  we  grant,  so  far  as  to  allow  that  in  every  instance  in  which 
we  have  occasion  to  discover  a  cause  or  predict  an  effect,  the  event  is  a 
begun  existence.  In  other  words,  practically  every  caused  existence  is  a 
begun  existence,  and  every  cause  precedes  its  effect,  and  every  effect 
follows  its  cause :  or,  which  is  the  same  thing,  the  relations  before  and 
after  always  attend  the  relation  of  causality.  This  is  simply  the  truism 
that  all  events  \i.  e.,  all  begun  existences  or  phenomena]  occur  in  time,  or 
stated  in  another  manner,  that  all  things  finite  are  subject  to  time-relations. 
To  this  should  be  added  the  consideration  that  if  there  be  any  higher  rela- 
tions, such  as  those  of  cause  and  design,  these  must  be  expressed  in  language 
taken  from  spsce,  and  in  turn  involve  the  recognition  of  Time- 
relations.  But  it  is  one  thing  to  assert,  which  is  all  that  Mill  does  in  this 
passage,  that  we  can  determine  causes  and  effects  by  means  of  their  con- 
stantly attending  relations  of  time,  and  quite  another  to  show  that  the  two 
relations  are  identical. 

That  they  are  not  identical  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  without  the  assumption 
T  i  m  o-relations  Of  the  relation  of  causation  as  distinct  and  logical,  deduction  would  be  impos- 
deciuction.  sible.  This  has  been  shown  in  the  analysis  of  deduction  already  given.  In- 

duction also  would  be  unmeaning.  It  is  idle  to  contend  that  the  force  of  the 
reasons  and  laws  by  which  we  explain  and  predict  events  is  exhausted  by  resolving  them  into 
uniform  antecedences,  and  successions  in  time.  This  has  been  already  shown  under  Induction. 
It  will  be  more  conclusively  proved  when  we  consider  in  its  place  the  explanation  of  Induction 
£iven  by  Mill  in  his  own  theory  of  the  nature  of  the  causal  relation,  §  593.  This  explanation 
not  only  fails  to  satisfy  the  mind  in  respect  to  induction  but  it  reacts  against  the  underlying 
or  assumed  construction  of  the  causal  relation.  But  aside  from  these  considerations,  we  con- 
tend that  the  very  statement  of  the  proposition  is  its  own  sufficient  refutation.  The  human 
mind  clearly  distinguishes  the  relations  of  time  from  the  relations  of  causality  and  of  produc- 
tion. The  intelligent  and  universal  use  of  the  whole  vocabulary  of  terms  appropriate  to  each 
of  these  classes  of  relations  is  but  the  constant  attestation  that  this  distinction  is  made  univer- 
sally and  necessarily  by  the  mind  ;  in  other  words,  that  causatior  cannot  be  resolved  into  any 
relation  of  time. 

We  have  already  argued  that  causation  is  not  only  an  original  relation, 
discerned  by  intuition,  but  that  it  is  also  known  by  intuition  to  be  uni 
versally  applicable  to  all  events. 


§593. 


CAUSATION   AND   THE   RELATION    OF    CAUSAUTY. 


579 


seven   th     •       This  opinion,  as  we  have  seen,  is  disputed  by  many.    Various 
counter  to  our    counter  theories  have  been  devised  to  account  for  its  univer- 

cwn. 

sal  or  its  very  general  application.  Seven  such  theories  are 
clearly  distinguishable,  making  eight  in  all  —  including  our  own.  Thej 
are  ingeniously  arranged  and  tabulated  by  Hamilton.  Met.  Lee.  39.  The 
table  is  more  ingenious  than  sound  in  its  classified  subdivisions,  as  will  be 
apparent  from  the  remarks  which  we  make  upon  some  of  its  heads  ;  but 
it  may  be  used  as  a  guide  in  our  discussion. 

"  A  TABULAR  YIEW  of  the  Theories  in  regard  to  the  Principles  of  Causality. 

1.  Objective-Objective    and    Objectivo-Sub- 

jective.  —  Perception  of  Causal  Efficien- 
cy, external  and  internal. 

2.  Objective-Subjective  Perception  of  Causa] 

Efficiency,  internal. 

3.  Objective.  —  Induction,  Generalization. 

4.  Subjective.  —  Association,  Custom,  Habit 

5.  Necessary  :  A  special  Principle  of  Intel- 

ligence. 

6.  Contingent:    Expectation  of  the    Con- 

stancy of  Nature. 

7.  From  the  Law  of  Contradiction,  i.  «., 

(Non-Contradiction.) 

8.  From  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned." 

§  593t  ^ne  tneor^es  which  we  shall  first  consider  are  the  third 
aTld   f°urtn  °f  Hamilton's  Table,  according   to   which,  our 
elation.  belief  in  the  Principle  of  Causality  is  acquired  by  Induction 

like  other  generalizations,  or  is  the  result  of  Association.     These,  as  we 
have  seen,  are  the  theories  respectively  of  Mill  and  Hume,  or  rather  they 
are  by  Mill  blended  into  one. 
The    advocates    Neither  of  these  theories  is  sufficient  to  explain  this  belief. 

overlook  the  real     __,  .  .  .. 

question.  JLnis  is  evident  tor  the  following  reasons. 

(1.)  Its  advocates  overlook  the  real  question  at  issue.  The  belief  to  be 
explained  or  accounted  for,  is,  that  every  event  has  a  cause.  The  belief 
which  the  advocates  of  this  theory  seek  to  account  for,  is  the  belief  that 
to  each  particular  event  or  class  of  events,  some  definite  cause  has  been  or 
may  be  actually  assigned.  That  this  last  only,  can  be  the  product  of  ex- 
perience is  obvious.  That  this  is  the  belief  in  support  of  which  they 
adduce  illustrations  and  arguments  is  evident  from  the  passages  which  we 
have  quoted  from  Hume  and  Mill.  That  this  is  not  the  belief  which  fi 
in  question,  needs  no  illustration  or  argument. 


A. 

a. 
Original 
or 
Primitive. 

d  posteriori. 

b. 

JUDGMENT 
of 

Derivative 
or 
Secondary. 

CAUSALITY, 

c. 

as, 

B. 

Original 
or 
Primitive. 

w      d  priori. 

d. 

B 

Derivative 

or 
„   Secondary. 

causation  inei- 


580  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §595 

(2,).  No  simple  experience  of  actual  events  can  establish  the 

Experience  can-  .  „ . 

not  go  beyond  application  of  its  results  any  further  than  the  range  of  actual 
events  of  which  we  have  had  this  experience.  But  in  both 
Generalization  and  Induction,  we  go  far  beyond  our  actual  experience. 
When  from  the  observation  of  a  few  objects  or  a  few  events,  we  general- 
ize a  concept  or  a  law  which  we  apply  to  objects  or  events  more  or  less 
like  them,  we  use  the  belief  that  what  we  have  observed  will  prove  true 
of  what  we  have  not  observed.  Whether  what  we  have  observed  are 
called  simple  uniformities  of  antecedence  and  succession,  or  uniformitiea 
of  causation,  makes  no  difference  with  the  nature  of  the  act  by  which  we 
pass  from  the  known  to  the  unknown. 

Mill  himself  most  pertinently  observes  :  "  We  believe  that  fire  will  burn  to-morrow  be- 
cause it  burned  to-day  and  yesterday;  but  we  believe  precisely  on  the  same  grounds  that  it 
burned  before  we  were  born,  and  that  it  burns  this  very  day  in  Cochin-China.  It  is  not  frore 
the  past  to  the  future  [only  or  as  such]  as  past  or  future,  that  we  infer,  but  from  the  knowr 
to  the  unknown ;  from  facts  observed  to  facts  unobserved  ;  from  what  we  have  perceived,  01 
been  directly  conscious  of,  to  what  has  not  come  within  our  experience." 

He  also  admits,  in  the  passages  already  quoted,  that  we  do  not  limit  ourselves  to  experience. 
In  asking  why,  when  we  cannot  assign  a  definite  cause  for  an  event,  we  yet  believe  it  to  be 
caused,  he  says  it  is  "  more  rational  to  suppose  that  our  inability  to  assign  the  causes  of 
other  phenomena  arose  from  our  ignorance  than  that  these  were  phenomena  which  were  uii- 
caused."  While  then  he  insists  that  we  have  no  warrant  from  experience  in  applying  the  results 
of  experience  "  to  circumstances  unknown  to  us  and  beyond  the  possible  range  of  our  expe- 
rience," and  contends  that  "  the  law  of  causation  must  be  received  not  as  a  law  of  the  universe, 
but  of  that  portion  of  it  only  which  is  within  the  range  of  our  means  of  observation,"  he 
is  careful  to  subjoin  "  with  a  reasonable  degree  of  extension  to  adjacent  cases."  It  would  be 
difficult  to  give  a  meaning  to  the  phrases  "  it  is  more  rational  to  suppose,"  and  "with  a  reason- 
able extension  to  adjacent  cases  "  without  finding  in  them  a  real,  though  unwilling,  homage  to 
the  intuition  "  Every  event  must  be  caused." 

induction  as-  (3.)  Induction  assumes  this  belief  as  already  present  to,  or 
qui^s  the  belief  ready  to  be  applied  by  the  mind.  Mill  concedes  that  Indue- 
tc  be  original.  tion  itgelf  has  itg  axioms.  He  says,  "  whatever  be  the  best 

way  of  expressing  it,  the  proposition  that  the  course  of  nature  is  uniform, 
is  the  fundamental  principle,  or  general  axiom  of  Induction."  The  Propo- 
sition that  '  the  course  of  nature  is  uniform '  must  mean  that  the  unknown 
uniformities  of  succession  or  causation  correspond  to  those  which  are 
known.  If  this  is  a  general  axiom  or  fundamental  principle  of  Induc- 
tion, it  would  seem  that  it  cannot  be  gained  or  derived  by  means  of 
Induction.  And  yet  Mill  contends  that  the  axiom  which  is  necessarily- 
assumed  to  give  meaning  and  reality  to  the  process  of  Induction  is  acquired 
by  means  of  the  process  to  which  it  is  a  necessary  pre-condition. 

(4.)  The  resolution  of  this  belief  into  tenacious  or  inseparable 
piioabiebyasa£  associations,  or  as  Hume  more  bluntly  expresses  it,  into 

"  custom  or  habit "  is  more  palpably  untenable  than  the  other 
theory  or  fo  tn  of  this  theory. 


§594.  CAUSATION   AND   THE   RELATION    OF   CAUSALITY.  581 

We  have  seen  already  that  the  fact  that  the  mind  is  constantly  deter- 
mined to  one  thought  by  the  presence  of  another,  is  very  different  from 
the  fact  that  the  things  thought  of,  are  necessarily  determined  the  one  by 
the  other.  If  the  two  are  viewed  simply  as  psychological  experiences,  even 
the  subjective  law  by  which  the  objects  concerned  are  presented  to  the 
inind  in  constant  conjunction,  is  clearly  different  from  the  subjective 
belief  that  the  objects  so  presented,  are  united  causally. 

The  philosopher  who  directly,  like  Hume,  or  indirectly  like  Mill,  resolves  the  principle  ot 
causality  into  the  law  of  association,  complicates  rather  than  simplifies  the  problem.  For  he 
imposes  upon  himself  the  obligation  to  show  that  the  objective  world  without  corresponds  to 
the  subjective  world  within.  This  must  be  done  by  deduction,  induction  or  intuition,  but  deduc- 
tion and  induction  both  rest  upon  intuition,  so  that  even  the  theory  which  attempts  to  dispense 
with  intuition  must  in  the  final  analysis  rest  upon  it,  in  one  form  or  another,  as  its  ultimate 
arbiter. 

Not   resolvable    §  594.    The  two  other  theories  which  resolve  the  principle 

into  outward  or        /.  -i.,       •    ,       ,-1          -,  , .  /»  •  «i 

inner  experi-  oi  causality  into  the  observations  01  experience,  ascribe  it  to 
Locke's  view?*  '  our  sense-perceptions  of  the  phenomena  of  matter,  and  to  our 
conscious  experience  of  the  phenomena  of  the  soul.  Some  writers,  again, 
hold  to  both  of  these  conjointly  as  sources  of  the  belief. 

Locke  seems  to  advocate,  in  different  passages  of  his  Essay,  every  one 
of  these  theories.  The  following  passages  may  be  fairly  taken  to  repre- 
sent each  of  the  three  : 

"  In  the  notice  that  our  senses  take  of  the  constant  vicissitude  of  things,  we  cannot  but  observe  that 
several  particulars,  both  qualities  and  substances,  begin  to  exist ;  and  that  they  receive  this  their  existence 
from  the  due  application  and  operation  of  some  other  being.  From  this  observation  we  get  our  ideas  of 
cause  and  effect.  That  which  produces  any  simple  or  complex  idea,  we  denote  by  the  general  name,  cause, 
and  that  which  is  produced,  effect.  Thus  finding  in  that  substance  which  we  call  wax,  fluidity,  which  is  a 
simple  idea  that  was  not  in  it  before,  is  constantly  produced  by  the  application  of  a  certain  degree  of  heat, 
we  call  the  simple  idea  of  heat  in  relation  to  fluidity  in  wax,  the  cause  of  it,  and  fluidity,  the  effect." — 
Essay,  B.  II.  c.  xxvi.  §1. 

"  A  body  at  rest  affords  us  no  idea  ofany  active  power  to  move  ;  before  it  is  set  in  motion  itself,  that 
motion  is  rather  a  passion  than  an  action  in  it.  For  when  the  ball  obeys  the  stroke  of  a  billiard-stick,  it 
is  not  any  action  of  the  ball,  but  bare  passion." 

"  The  idea  of  the  beginning  of  motion,  we  have  only  from  reflection  on  what  passes  in  ourselves, 
where  we  find  by  experience,  that  barely  by  willing  it,  barely  a  thought  of  the  mind,  we  can  move  the 
parts  of  our  bodies  which  were  before  at  rest.  So  that  it  seems  to  me,  we  have  from  the  observation  of 
the  o  peration  of  bodies  by  our  senses,  but  a  very  imperfect,  obscure  idea  of  active  power,  since  they  afford 
not  any  idea  in  themselves  of  the  power  to  begin  any  action,  either  motion  or  thought.  But  if  from  the 
impulse  bodies  are  observed  to  make  one  upon  another,  ary  one  thinks  he  has  a  clear  idea  of  power,  it 
serves  as  well  to  my  purpose,  Sensation  being  one  of  those  ways  whereby  the  mind  comes  by  its  ideas ; 
only  I  thought  it  worth  while  to  consider  here  by  the  way,  whether  the  mind  doth  not  receive  its  idea  ot 
active  power  clearer  from  reflection  on  its  own  operations,  than  it  does  from  any  external  sensation." — B. 
II.  c.  xxi  §  4. 

The  theo  in  ^ocke's  view  has  been  understood  to  be,  that  by  simple  obser- 
untenabie fonns  vation  and  experience  of  material  or  spiritual  events,  we  know 
that  they  are  connected  as  causes  and  effects,  and  that  on  the 
gi'ound  of  the  experience  thus  given  in  sense  and  consciousness,  we  believe, 
conclude  or  infer  that  all  events  are  so  connected.  To  the  theory  as  thus 
interpreted  the  reply  is  decisive ;  First,  that  simple  experience  of  the 
known  can  of  itself  furnish  no  warrant  for  a  belief  concerning  the  un 


582  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

known,  unless  we  apply  or  assume  some  a  priori  principle  or  original 
intuition :  Second,  Sense-perception  and  consciousness  are  usually  so 
defined  as  to  exclude  the  discernment  of  any  relation  except  the  relations 
of  space  and  time,  or  the  connection  of  the  objects  appropriate  to  each  by 
any  relations  other  than  these.  But  the  relations  of  space  and  time  are 
&  priori,  and  are  discerned  by  intuition.  If  the  relation  of  causation  is 
discerned  in  each  of  these  classes  of  acts,  it  is  none  the  less  &  priori  for 
that  reason,  so  that  it  cannot  be  urged  that  sense  and  consciousness  as 
forms  or  acts  of  simple  experience,  are  the  source  or  sources  of  our  belief 
of  causation.  The  knowledge  must  be  &  priori,  and  cannot  be  d,  posteriori 

Eelations  of  the  Tlie  °Pmions  of  Locke  are  of  great  interest  and  importance  in  that  they  gave 
doctrines  of  the  occasion  or  authority  for  the  speculations  of  Hume  and  Mill.  Hume 
of°CHume  ai^d  *akes  up  the  positions  of  Locke  in  detail,  and  considers  them  at  length.  He 
Mil1-  denies  that  in  Sense-Perception,  we  can  by  sense  be  said  to  perceive  the 

causation  of  material  objects  or  phenomena.     All  that  we  perceive,  he  urge.*,  are  one  material 
object  or  state  followed  by  another,  using  precisely  the  same  arguments  against  this  view  of 
Locke  which  Locke  uses  against  himself,  when  he  would  show  that  matter  gives  no  cfear  idea 
of  power.     Malebranche  uses  the  same  argument  and  even  the  illustration  by  billiard-balls. 
This  argument  is  decisive,  as  we  have  already  observed. 

The  opinion  of  Locke,  as  expressed  in  these  and  other  similar  passages,  is  interesting 
Inchon  sis^ent  for  thg  reagoll  tnat  ^  is  strikingly  and  happily  inconsistent  with  his  definition  of  knowl- 
doctrine  of  edge  as  the  discernment  of  the  agreement  or  disagreement  of  our  ideas.  The  con- 
knowledge,  sciousness  of  the  exercise  of  power  in  mental  phenomena  is  certainly  a  species  of 

knowledge,  but  it  would  not  he  maintained  that  the  cause,  i.  e.,  the  acting  ego,  and  the 
effect,  viz.,  the  bodily  or  psychical  state  were  known  under  the  relation  of  the  simple  agreement  of  their  ideas. 

Against  the  special  opinion  of  Locke  that  we  derive  the  notion  of  causation  from  our 
Hume's  obiec-  internal  experience,  Hume  contends,  that  all  which  we  observe  is  one  thought  succeeding 
tion  to  the  doc-  another  thought,  one  emotion  following  another,  one  so-called  purpose  springing  up  after 
trine  of  Locke.  another ;  but  we  have  no  knowledge  of  any  causation  or  production  in  such  cases,  nor 

of  any  producing  agent.  The  motions  of  the  body  which  are  ascribed  to  an  effort  or 
purpose  of  which  we  are  said  to  be  conscious,  be  disposes  of  by  asserting  that  all  we  know  is— first,  that 
we  experience  a  wish  or  purpose,  and  next  that  this  is  followed  by  a  bodily  movement.  In  phenomena  that 
are  purely  mental,  where  the  so-called  effect  is  a  purely  spiritual  phenomenon,  the  same  is  true ;  we  find  a 
wish,  or  purpose,  or  effort,  and  it  is  followed  by  the  desired  or  purposed  mental  state.  We  are  simply  specta- 
tors, but  in  no  case  producers  or  originators,  of  these  psychical  or  psycho-corporeal  phenomena.  Both  Brown 
and  Mill  dispose  of  Locke's  representations  in  substantially  the  s:une  manner.  he  convenience  of  these 
views  as  furnishing  materials  for  the  refutation  of  the  arguments  for  the  freedom  of  human  volitions  derived 
from  the  consciousness  of  the  exercise  of  the  power  or  freedom  of  choice,  must  be  obvious  to  every  one. 
If  in  consciousness  we  are  only  aware  of  the  presence  of  psychical  states,  and  cannot  know  their  relations 
to  one  another  or  to  the  agent  which  originates  them,  then  it  is  impossible  that  we  can  be  conscious  of  any 
exercise  of  the  power  of  choice,  for  if  it  be  insisted  that  we  are  only  conscious  of  the  act  of  choosing  as 
preceding  the  effect — viz.,  the  state  of  choice  or  the  purpose,  we  should  only  know  it  as  one  event  preceding 
another,  t,  c.,  we  should  only  know  the  two  events  as  before  and  after. 

8  595.    The   question    thus    discussed    between    Locke   and 

Theories  of  Eoy-      °  .  _  .    ,    . 

cr  Coiiard  and    Hume  has  been  invested  with  a  special  interest  by  the  specu- 
lations of  Royer  Collard  and  Maine  de  Biran,  two  distin- 
guished philosophers  of  the  modern  French  school. 

Royer  Collard, Fragmens  de  Legons  (CEuvres  de  T.  Reid,  T.  iv.  p.  296), 
contends  that  our  experience  of  psychical  phenomena  gives  us  direct 
knowledge  of  the  oausal  relation,  inasmuch  as  mental  states  a^«,  by  tixeir 


§595.  CAUSATION   AND   THE   RELATION   OF   CAUSALITY.  583 

very  nature,  known  to  be  caused  by  the  ego.  We  know  by  consciousness 
Jiat  we  are  causes,  and  these  are  the  only  causes  which  we  do  know.  We 
know  that  every  event  is  caused,  as  a  self-evident  and  intuitive  truth. 

Maine  de  Biran,  (Euvres,  T.  iv.,  expands  this  general  statement  into  a 
refined  theory  which  he  explains  with  great  subtlety,  and  defends  with 
equal  boldness.  Taking  his  cue  from  Leibnitz,  who  contends  that  we 
have  a  direct  appreciation  of  the  ego,  and  that  every  monad  both  material 
and  spiritual  is  conceived  and  believed  to  be  an  individual  force ;  appeal* 
ing  also  to  the  well-known  doctrine  of  Descartes,  that  the  ego  knows  that 
it  exists  because  it  knows  itself  to  think,  or,  more  exactly,  because  it 
finds  itself  in  the  act  of  thinking ;  he  proceeds  to  assert  and  defend  the 
following  propositions : 

The  soul,  in  all  its  higher  states  and  elements  of  states,  is  not  recep- 
tive but  active.  As  active,  it  is  the  originator  or  producer  of  effects. 
These  effects  are  of  two  sorts :  those  which  are  purely  psychical,  and  those 
which  are  external  as  they  affect  the  body  and  originate  nlotion.  In  these 
last  even,  we  distinguish  between  the  element  which  is  purely  organic — 
whether  sensitive  and  receptive  on  the  one  hand,  or  impulsive  and  reflex 
on  the  other,  i.  e.  so  far  as  they  are  purely  corporeal  and  the  object  of  physio- 
logical research, — and  the  element  which  is  psychological  and  apprehended 
by  consciousness.  In  those  states  which  are  purely  psychical,  and  in  the 
other  states  so  far  as  they  are  such,  consciousness  distinguishes  between 
the  ego,  the  ego  in  action,  and  the  result  of  the  acting  of  the  ego.  These 
elements  are  not  distinguished  as  following  one  another  in  time,  but  as  sepa- 
rate in  thought,  even  when  united  in  an  act  or  state  that  endures  but  for 
an  instant.  But  here  he  is  careful  to  observe, 

(a.)  The  ego,  discerned  or  apperceived,  is  not  the  soul  as  a  substance,  for 
this  is  a  generalized  conception,  and  includes  the  relations  of  the  soul  to 
the  body,  as  well  as  its  various  capacities  or  faculties  for  the  various  modes 
of  psychical  action.  All  that  is  apperceived  is  the  individual  ego. 

(b.)  The  ego  thus  apperceived  is  known  not  as  out  of  action,  nor  as 
prepared  for  action,  but  as  acting,  as  therefore  related  to  or  connected 
with  an  action — this  being  an  individual  act  however,  and  in  no  sense  one 
that  is  generic ;  every  thing  that  is  known  directly  to  consciousness  proper 
being  individual. 

(c.)  This  action  is  also  causal  or  productive  action.  In  its  very  nature 
and  essence  it  is  known  as  passing  into  effects.  These  effects  are  by  apper- 
ception distinguished  from  the  agent  and  the  action,  not  in  time  but  in 
fact. 

These  positions  comprise  the  answer  given  by  de  Biran  to  the  question, 
Whence  and  how  does  the  soul  gain  its  notion  of  causation  ? 

But  the  inquiry  which  is  invested  with  still  greater  interest  and  impor- 
tance, concerns  the  principle  of  causality.  It  being  granted  or  assumed 
that  the  soul  derives  its  knowledge  of  causation  from  the  diioct  knowledge 


584  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  596 

of  itsell  as  an  individual  cause ;  How  does  it  know  that  every  event  ha*  a 
cause  ? 

To  this  question  de  Biran  would  reply :  On  occasion  of  the  individual 
apperception  described,  we  extend  the  causative  relations  to  objects  othei 
than  ourselves,  by  a  principle  of  natural  induction  or  analogy. 

"  The  necessity,  invariableness  and  unity  of  the  personal  primitive  cause  being  thus  conceived,  every 
inference  or  derivation  from  this  primitive  fact  must  necessarily  partake  of  the  same  characteristics.  For 
example,  every  effect  of  the  locomotion  of  one's  own  body  being  inseparable,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned, 
from  the  feeling  or  (external  ?)  apperception  of  myself  as  its  cause,  no  external  movement  [of  any  kind 
can  possibly  occur  without  being  immediately  conceived  as  like  my  own  [a  1'instac  du  moi].  This  first  in 
duction,  which  transfers  the  causality  of  the  ego  to  the  non-ego,  has  no  relation  to  those  judgments  of 
analogy  which  are  founded  on  resemblances  in  external  experience.  For  this  reason  it  is  with  regret  and 
ibr  lack  of  a  better  term,  that  I  employ  in  this  novel  sense  the  term  Induction,  which  in  logic  and  ir 
phyuics  has  a  meaning  entirely  different.  However  it  may  ai-ise,  the  certainty  that  every  external  mo- 
tion, every  passive  modification  of  our  sensibility,  every  fortuitous  event  whatever,  not  produced  by  our 
perejnal  will,  could  not  begin  without  a  cause,  this  certainty  is  as  infallible  and  as  necessary  as  that  of  our 
own  causality  from  which  it  is  derived. 

;<  Causality  or  force,  thus  conceived  separately  from  myself,  and  de-subjectivized,  cannot  be  understood 
except  as  universal  and  absolute,  like  being,  permanent  sitbstances,  etc.,  and  the  other  fundamental  notions 
of  which  the  understanding  cannot  divest  itself,  and  which  must  be  regarded  as  its  inherent  forms.  It  is 
a  vevy  false  and  very  limited  philosophy  which  sees  in  these  notions,  and  in  causality  which  is  the  mother 
of  them,  ciily  simple  signs,  or  artificial  ideas,  higher  genera,  products  of  sensation,  deductions  of  reason- 
ing,'  etc.,  etc.— (Euvres,  T.  IV.  pp.  393,  4. 

Such  is  the  theory  of  de  Biran  in  respect  to  the  second  point  of  inquiry, 
viz.,  the  origin  of  the  belief  that  every  event  is  caused.  It  may  be  stated 
in  a  single  proposition,  viz.,  we  believe  all  events  external  to  our  own 
experience  to  be  caused,  because  we  conceive  of  all  such  events  by  natural 
induction,  after  the  likeness  or  analogy  of  that  spiritual  causation  of  which 
we  are  directly  cognizant  in  ourselves. 

is    the  theory    §  596.    In  respect  to  both  these  points  we  ask,  How  far  is 
lorTDo'we  gain    the  theory  of  de  Biran  correct  ? 

!•  ^°  we  Sani  our  ^TS^  knowledge  of  causation  from  the 
experience  of  our  personal  causality?  We  answer,  Yes. 
The  soul  cannot  act  without  distinguishing  the  ego  from  its  acts  and  their 
products.  It  knows  itself  to  be  the  actor  or  originator  of  its  active  states. 
In  this  conscious  exercise  of  its  own  active  energy,  it  has  its  first  knowledge 
and  individual  exemplification  of  the  causal  energy  in  general.  It  has 
a  direct  knowledge  of  the  terms  or  objects  concerned,  viz.  the  agent  and  the 
result.  It  has  experience  of  effort  or  action  in  varying  degrees.  It  has 
also  experience  of  the  feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain  which  attends  the  efforts 
in  question.  Its  belief  of  the  acting  of  other  causes  external  to  itself, 
whether  of  spirit  upon  matter,  of  matter  upon  spirit,  or  of  matter  upon 
matter,  is  in  contrast  with  this  knowledge,  incomplete  in  respect  both  to 
the  terms  or  objects  concerned,  and  their  relations  to  one  another. 
2  DO  we  make  2.  Do  we,  by  natural  induction,  make  a  universal  application 
°^  our  individual  experience  to  .every  possible  event  ?  The 
so-called  natural  induction  of  de  Biran  must  rest  upon  01 
involve  an  intuition,  equivalent  to  the  d  priori  principle,  every  event  must 


HTJTB4 

§  597.  CAUSATION   AND   THE   BELATION    OF   CAUSALITY.  586 

have  a  cause.  Otherwise  it  is  impossible  to  see  what  warrant  we  have  to 
transfer  what  is  true  of  an  individual  experience  to  the  whole  spiritual 
and  material  universe.  The  fact  that  psychologically,  we  have  the  earliest 
and  most  complete  knowledge  of  the  causal  relation  in  our  spiritual  ex- 
perience, does  not  in  the  least  explain  philosophically,  why  it  is  that  we 
believe  this  relation  to  be  of  universal  application. 

De  Biran  is  very  earnest  in  the  effort  to  show  that  this  Natural  Induction  does  not 

De  Biran's  view     suppose  that  the  mind  is  furnished  with  primitive  beliefs  or  d  priori  truths   (T-.  iv.  38&- 

of    first   princi-     396).    He  concedes,  indeed,  that  the  mind  mast  have  such  principles  in  order  that  it 

may  reason  and  judge,  but  he  insists  that  it  does  not  set  off  in  its  processes  with  thesa 

principles  already  formed,  but  that  an  important  point  is  gained  when  psychology  fur- 

nishes a  star  ting-point  in  the  actual  experience  of  the  soul,  from  or  by  which  the  soul  may  effect  a  transi- 

tion from  individual  and  concrete  facts  to  universal  principles.    These  principles  are  not  gained  in  the 

way  of  ordinary  abstraction  nor  are  they  generalized  notions  of  the  qualities  of  objects,  but  they  express 

the  sameness  of  a  relation  wherever  it  is  realized. 

But  these  reasonings  hold  only  against  the  extravagant  views  of  First  Truths  which  we  have  so  fully 
discussed  §  528.  They  prove  only  that  the  principle  of  causality  is  not  first  apprehended  in  the  abstract 
but  exemplified  in  the  concrete,  and  that  this  concrete  is  given  in  the  psychical  experience  of  each  indi- 
vidual. The  extension  of  this  to  every  event  as  the  occasion  arises,  must  involve  the  application  of  what, 
when  it  is  generalized  and  reflected  on,  is  known  to  be  a  universal  principle.  This  process  of  extension, 
called  by  him  a  Natural  Induction,  must  involve  such  an  Intuition. 


We  ima<>-e  our  §  ^^'  ^n  ^ns^st^nS  tnat  we  conceive  of  external  events  as  caused,  after  the 
concepts  of  caus-  analogy  of  our  personal  causality,  d  Vinstar  du  moi,  he  has  reference  to  the 
^  source  from  which  we  derive  our  images  of  the  causal  relation.  As  every 


Bcous 

general  term  of  quality,  like  red,  yellow,  etc.,  is  illustrated  or  exemplified  to 
the  mind  by  some  concrete  instance  or  image  of  its  use  (§  424),  so  is  it  with  the  more  genera] 
and  more  evanescent  terms  of  relation.  The  law  holds  more  eminently  in  the  latter  case 
If  we  cannot  use  the  words  purple,  yellow,  lovely,  fearful,  of  an  object  absent  from  our  direct 
inspection,  without  referring  to  some  concrete  example,  much  less  can  we  apply  the  terms  of 
causality  to  objects  of  which  our  knowledge  is  indirect  and  incomplete,  without  referring  to 
some  concrete  example  from  that  knowledge  which  is  most  distinct,  viz.,  which  is  furnished 
from  our  own  souls.  The  d  Vinstar  du  woi  of  De  Biran  refers  to  the  illustration,  the  imaging 
the  abstract  and  the  general,  but  does  not  explain  at  all  the  process  by  which  the  intuition 
is  gained,  or  the  authority  on  which  it  rests. 

There  are  still  other  reasons  why  the  activity  which  we  individually  exercise  should  be 
made  the  type  and  image  of  that  causality  which  we  generalize  of  the  universe  of  matter  and 
of  mind.  One  of  the  most  frequent  cases  of  the  exercise  of  the  causal  energy  is  in  the 
management  and  control  of  our  bodies  by  means  of  bodily  or  muscular  force.  In  the  simple 
tension  of  muscular  fibre,  there  is  often  the  sense  of  resistance.  The  muscular  feeling  is  the 
same,  whether  the  soul  acts  upon  the  muscles,  or  whether  there  is  a  counter  force  exerted  by 
another  being  like  ourselves,  or  whether  the  muscles  encounter  some  one  of  the  forces  of 
nature.  The  conception  of  force  or  effort,  in  all  these  cases,  takes  its  image  or  illustration  in 
part  from  this  fact  of  muscular  tension  that  is  common  to  the  three  classes  of  supposed  origi- 
nation —  my  own  spirit,  the  spirit  of  another,  and  an  agency  purely  material.  But  the  onl) 
case  in  which  it  is  most  fully  and  vividly  experienced  is  that  of  effort  originating  with  myself. 

This  analysis  of  de  Biran's  theory  enables  us  to  explain  the  phenomenon  to 
o?chiidrM?nttnd  wnicn  ne  attaches  great  importance,  viz.,  that  children,  and  certain  savage 
savages  explain-  races,  believe  every  event  to  be  caused  by  a  spiritual  force,  and  regard  every 

existing  thing  at  first  as  a  living  person.  The  fact  may  or  may  not  be  as 
universal  as  he  contends  it  is.  He  uses  it  in  support  of  the  two  positions  which  we  have 
explained  and  discussed. 

The  fact,  if  it  be  true,  is  equally  consistent  with  the  construction  which  we  have  given  to 


586  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  598 

these  positions.  On  the  supposition  that  we  believe  by  intuition  thai  every  event  is  caused 
it  would  still,  be  true  that  all  external  causes  might  be  imaged  after  the  example  or  illustration 
of  the  spiritual  causation  which  we  consciously  exercise.  Nothing  would  be  more  natural 
than  that  the  non-essential  as  well  as  the  esser  «ial  elements  furnished  by  our  experience, 
should  enter  into  the  picture,  and  that  our  first  and  unreflecting  belief  should  be  that  every 
thing  which  manifested  force  was,  like  ourselves,  a  living  person.  The  illusion  would  remain 
with  those  whose  intellects  are  controlled  by  imagination  rather  than  by  reason,  and  would 
return  with  a  force  almost  insuperable  on  every  occasion  when  the  imagination  was  excited 
by  emotion.  The  child,  the  savage,  and  even  the  civilized  man,  when  maddened  by  passion, 
vent  their  rage  against  the  stone  that  bruises  or  the  weapon  that  wounds  them,  as  though  they 
were  alive.  By  a  gradual  experience,  the  uninstructed  child  is  forced  to  distinguish  between 
persons  and  things.  It  might  require  a  long  time  for  an  unreflecting  and  passionate  com- 
munity  to  rise  above  such  illusions  of  the  imagination,  when  stirmolated  by  the  excitement 
of  passion  or  superstition.  In  a  cultivated  community,  the  child  soon  learns  to  accept  the  judg 
ment  of  others,  as  it  is  forced  upon  him  by  the  distinctions  of  a  mature  language  embodying 
the  results  of  the  observations  and  inductions  of  many  generations.  A  savage  tribe  must  feel 
out  its  way  for  itself  without  such  aid,  and  is  in  constant  danger  of  relapsing  into  fetichism 
and  superstition  in  respect  to  some  single  material  objects,  after  it  has  learned  in  part  to  dis- 
tinguish  between  persons  and  things. 

It,  however,  by  no  means  follows  that  the  intuition,  '  every  event  is  caused,'  is  equivalent 
to  the  proposition,  or  involves  the  belief  in  the  first  instance,  '  that  every  event  is  originated 
by  a  personal  cause.'  Origination  under  conditions  or  the  application  of  force  as  the  necessary 
means  of  explaining  the  existence  of  every  being  and  the  occurrence  of  every  event,  is 
the  general  fact  which  this  intuition,  and  which  the  principle  of  causality  which  expresses  it, 
declares.  The  distinction  between  spiritual  and  material  causes  is  learned  by  experience,  as  it 
is  instructed  by  appropriate  evidence. 

inferences  from    8  598.    From  the  fact   assumed  or  believed   that   the  soul 

the  theory  that  .    . 

causation    per-    derives  its  first  notion  of  cause  from  its  conscious  activity, 
spirit.  01  the  inference  has  been  derived  that  causation  is  predicable 

of  spirit  only  ;  that  a  material  cause  is  contradictory  in  conception  and  im- 
possible in  fact.     This  inference  has  been  held  in  two  forms. 

(1.)  It  has  been   inferred,  first,  that   the   conception  of  a 

Material  causes  .,..-••  .,/>  -,.  •,  n  i 

called  seif-con-  material  cause  is  sell-contradictory ;  because,  lorsootn,  our 
knowledge  of  the  causal  relation  is  derived  from  our  own 
psychical  activity.  Spirit  alone,  it  is  contended,  is  essentially  active  and 
causal,  and  in  spirit,  will  is  that  only  which  is  active.  Matter  is  incapable  of 
force  ;  it  presents  the  appearances  of  antecedent  and  successive  phenomena, 
but  behind  these  appearances  there  is  no  force  except  what  spirit  imparts. 

"  The  word  action  itself  has  no  reai  signmcance  except  when  applied  to  the  doings  of  an  intelligent 
agent ;  we  cannot  speak  of  the  doings  of  matter  as  we  could  if  the  word  action  were  applicable  to  it  in  any 
other  than  a  figurative  sense.  Let  any  one  conceive,  if  he  can,  of  any  power,  energy,  or  force,  inherent  in 
a  lump  of  matter — a  stone,  for  instance — except  this  merely  negative  one,  that  it  alvaya  and  necessarily 
remains  in  its  present  state,  v/hether  this  he  of  rest  or  motion.  *  *  *  We  attribute  force  or  power  to  the 
^articles  of  matter  and  speak  of  their  natural  agencies.  Just  so  we  talk  of  tone  in  coloring,  and  of  a  heavy 
or  light  sound;  though,  of  course,  in  their  proper  significance,  tone  helongs  only  to  sound,  and  heaviness 
to  gravitating  bodies.  Theee  modes  of  speech  are  proper  enough  if  their  figurative  character  is  kept  in 
view ;  but  we  ought  always  to  remember,  that  agency  is  the  employment  of  one  intelligent  being  to  aot 
for  another  ;  force  and  power  are  applicable  only  to  will ;  they  are  characteristic  of  volition." 

*  *  *  «  This  doctrino  places  the  material  universe  before  us  in  a  new  light.  The  whole  framework 
of  what  are  culled  '  secondary  causes '  falls  to  piecas.  The  laws  of  nature  are  only  a  figure  of  speech.  Tlw 


§  599.  CAUSATION   AND    THE    RELATION    OF   CAUSALITY.  581 

powers  and  active  inherent  properties  of  material  atoms  are  mere  fictions." — Prof.  Framis  Bowen,  towel', 
Lectures,  first  Course,  Lee.  iv.    Cf.  Berkeley,  Siris.  §  154. 

§  599.  Against  this  view  the  following  objections  are  deci 
^edoct3ne.  tO  siye  :  (a-)  The  sou^  ^D(^s  m  ^ts  own  positive  psychical  experi- 
ence evidence  that  "  force  and  power  are  "  not  "  applicable 
only  to  will ; "  for  it  finds  spiritual  energies  that  are  neither  intelligent  nor 
voluntary.  When  it  seeks  and  strives  to  fix  its  attention,  to  recall  for- 
gotten objects,  to  control  its  rebellious  desires,  it  contends  against  actual 
forces  which  are  not  directly  regulated  by  intelligence  or  controlled  by  the 
will.  There  are  '  secondary  causes '  in  the  soul  at  least,  if  there  are  not  in 
matter. 

(b.)  It  does  not  follow,  because  we  derive  the  notion  of  causation  or 
force  from  the  conscious  activities  of  an  intelligent  will,  that  the  relation 
itself  involves  either  intelligence  or  will.  Let  it  be  conceded  that  at  first 
the  soul,  by  a  not  unnatural  illusion,  refers  every  event  which  it  does  not 
produce  by  its  own  activity  to  some  spiritual  agent  other  than  itself.  It 
soon  learns  to  correct  its  judgments.  It  learns  that  a  spirit  does  not 
directly  blow  upon  the  trees  or  agitate  the  sea,  for  it  finds  the  agitation 
of  the  air  interposed ;  it  then  discovers  that  this  agitation  is  occasioned 
oy  heat ;  then  that  heat  is  dependent  upon  the  sun,  or  some  other  agent. 

In  other  words,  between  the  effect  and  the  activity  of  spirit,  it  interposes  many  so-called 
beings  and  their  actions.  What  are  these  agents  or  phenomena  ?  They  are  not  the  thoughts 
nor  the  feelings,  nor  the  purposes  of  another  mind.  They  are  not  the  products  of  our  own 
causality  in  thinking,  feeling,  or  willing.  They  are  either  the  causes  of  the  sensations,  or  the 
occasions  of  the  sense-perceptions  which  we  experience.  In  other  words,  they  are  possessed 
of  force  and  endowed  with  causal  efficiency  without  either  intelligence  or  will. 

What,  again,  is  that  which  we  call  the  body,  that  animated  something  which 
"Would  make  the  the  soul  directs,  which  resists  its  energy,  and  the  affections  of  which  cause  the 
bod^unpossiblef  soul  connected  with  it  to  suffer  ?  Shall  we  say  that  all  these  are  God,  acting 

in  various  ways  ?  Then  the  universe,  separately  from  created  spirits,  is 
nothing  but  God ;  which  approaches  the  view  of  Spinoza.  Shall  we  say  that  these  all  are  the 
means  or  media  of  the  acting  of  God  ?  But  if  they  are  media  or  means,  they  themselves  are 
are  not  the  same  with  God's  acting.  What  are  they  ?  What  has  God  made  them  to  be  in 
order  that  through  them  as  means,  He  may  act  ?  What  is  that  in  the  created  spirit,  in 
addition  to  its  capacities  for  intelligence  and  will,  which  acts  or  seems  to  act  independently 
of  knowledge  and  volition  ?  These  questions  involve  the  objection  that, 

(c.)  According  to  this  theory,  the  universe  of  matter  and  of  spirit, 
except  so  far  as  it  is  capable  of  intelligence,  is  unreal  and  impossible.    Matter 
without  qualities  or  powers,  is  inconceivable.     Qualities  and  powers  in 
volve  force,  i.  6.,  causal  energy.    The  exercise  of  power  is  also  inconceiv- 
able, except  by  beings  capable  of  voluntary  energy. 

For  these  reasons  we  reject  the  theory.  We  distinguish  intelligent  and 
voluntary  activity  from  simple  causal  energy.  We  distinguish  causa* 
from  creative  force,  i.  e.9  origination  under  conditions  furnished  by  another 


688  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  601 

being  from  origination  without  such  conditions.  We  distinguish  a  first 
from  secondary  causes. 

it  has  been  in-  §  60°-  (2-)  Tne  second  inference  derived  from  the  position 
fiTbut  onfagent  tnat  tne  activity  of  spirit  furnishes  the  notion  of  causation,  is, 
in  the  universe.  ^^  tnere  ig  kut  one  agent  "lu  tjje  universe,  and  He  is  the 

Creator  ;  that  causation  is  conceivable  of  neither  created  matter  nor 
created  spirit,  and  the  apparent  activities  of  both  are  held  to  be  varied 
manifestations  of  His  single  force,  in  phenomena  successive  to  one  another. 
If  this  doctrine  were  true,  it  could  not  be  legitimately  derived  from  the 
grounds  alleged,  inasmuch  as  the  notion  of  causality  is  furnished  from  a 
created  or  finite  cause,  and  is  inferred  to  be  inapplicable  to  any  other  than 
a  cause  which  is  infinite  and  uncreated. 

Malebranche  (.Reck,  de  la  Ver.,  1.  6,  p.  2,  c.  3.)  advocates  the  theory  in  question,  but  not  on  these 
grounds,  but  as  an  inference  from,  his  general  theological  and  philosophical  position,  that  God  is  the  only 
agent,  and  that  in  him  we  perceive  as  well  as  produce  every  object  in  the  universe. 

§  601.    We  proceed  to  consider,  next,  the  several  theories 
which   "resolves    that  the  principle  of  causality  is  d>  priori.  —  (Table,  5,  6,  7,  8.) 
on-          One  class  (the  seventh)  of  these  theories  comprehends  all 


those  which  resolve  this  relation  between  things  into  some 
more  general  relation  between  concepts  —  in  other  words,  into  some  logical 
axiom,  principle,  or  relation.  The  fallacy  of  them  all  consists  in  invert- 
ing the  order  of  nature  and  of  reason.  A  correct  estimate  of  logical 
relations  and  principles  will  show  that  they  are  all  dependent  upon  some 
assumed  reality  of  things.  Of  such  realities,  the  relation  of  causality  is 
prominent  and  fundamental. 

Hamilton  (Met.  Lee.  39)  asserts  that  Wolf,  Clarke,  Locke,  Hobbes,  and 
ttfeSOlTinci  ItTof  otners'  nave  Attempted  to  demonstrate  the  law  of  causality  by  the  principle 
contradiction.  of  contradiction.  He  refers  particularly  to  such  an  argument  by  Wolf 

(Ontologia,  §§  65-70),  a  part  of  which  he  quotes  and  repeats.  The  argument, 
as  he  cites  it,  is  as  follows  :  "  Whatever  is  produced  without  a  cause,  is  produced  by  nothing  ; 
in  other  words,  has  nothing  for  its  cause.  But  nothing  can  no  more  be  a  cause  than  it  can 
be  something.  The  same  intuition  that  makes  us  aware  that  nothing  is  not  something,  shows 
us  that  every  thing  must  have  a  real  cause  of  its  existence."  It  may  be  doubted,  from  the 
very  terms  in  which  Hamilton  cites  the  argument,  whether  Wolf  intended  to  demonstrate  the 
law  of  causation  by  way  of  logical  inference.  So  far  from  attempting  to  show  that  its  truth 
can  be  demonstrated  or  logically  derived,  he  aims  to  prove  that  it  cannot  be  derived  at  all,  but 
that  it  is  an  original  principle  or  axiom  of  thought,  and,  as  such,  is  coordinate  and  equally 
original  with  the  principle  of  contradiction  ;  cf.  §  75.  What  is  said  to  be  a  logical  argument, 
is,  in  t  ict,  only  a  reduction  similar  to  those  which  are  employed  by  many  philosophers,  when 
they  argue  that  a  principle  must  be  accepted  as  a  first  truth,  by  drawing  out  the  absurd 
consequences,  either  speculative  or  practical,  which  would  follow  from  the  denial  or  non- 
acceptance  of  it  as  such. 

It  has  not  been  uncommon  with  the  philosophers  of  the  later  German  Schools  to  «eek 
Its  relation  to  ^0  resolve  the  principle  of  causality  into  the  principle  of  the  sufficient  reason  vieiotd  at 
t^rTe^Suflicient  a  l°ffical  principle.  This  follows  from  not  clearly  determining  and  carefully  keeping 
Reason.  in  mind  the  relation  of  the  ratio  essendi  to  the  ratio  cognoscendi.  Instead  of  deriving 

the  second  fr:m  the  first,  they  have   lerived  the  first  from  the  second.    Because  the 


g  602.         CAUSATION  AND  THE  RELATION  OF  CAUSALITY.  589 

logical  rtason  is  more  general  or  extensive  in  its  application  than  the  real  cause,  they  have  resolved  cause 
Into  reason,  instead  of  explaining  reason  by  means  of  the  relation  of  cause.  We  have  already  shown,  un- 
der Deduction,  that  the  syllogistic  process,  and  indeed  all  logical  reasoning  supposes  the  ratio  cssendi,  i.  e., 
real  causal  action  or  that  which  may  be  conceived  as  such,  and  that  without  this  all  deduction  is  meaning- 
less  and  inconclusive.  §  446. 

This  inversion  of  the  real  order  of  the  dependence  of  thess  conceptions  may  be  traced 

Influence  of  the     *°  Kant.    He  at  least  sanctioned  it  by  the  suggestion  that  is  fundamental  to  his  system, 

Kantian       doc-     that  the   forms  of  thought  are  not  necessarily  representative  of  the  forms  of  being. 

Kant  makes  the  relation  of  causality  to  .be  in  its  essence  a  metaphysical  relation  of 

the  explicabllity  of  one  thought  by  another  which  is  required  by  the  understanding  or 

logical  faculty.    The  understanding  must  explain  one  thought  as  dependent  on  another :    This  relation 

of  dependence,  when  applied  to  things  existing  in  the  actual  world,  can  only  be  conceived  by  means  of 

the  relations  of  phenomena  to  one  another  in  time  :  The  phenomenon  that  succeeds  another  uniformly  is 

explained  to  the  understanding  by  that  which  precedes  it. 

It  has  been  carried  to  its  furthest  extreme  by  Hegel  in  the  fundamental  position  of  hie 
Carried  to  its  Philosophy  which  he  boldly  attempted  to  apply  to  every  conception,  that  all  the  so-called 
extreme  by  He-  relations  of  being  may  be  developed  from  and  are  resolved  into  relations  of  thought, 
so  that  the  actual  world  is  but  the  necessary  evolution  of  the  relations  that  belong  to 
the  concept  as  such.  The  relation  of  the  reason  to  its  consequent,  and  by  consequence 
of  cause  to  effect,  is  only  a  special  application  of  that  law  of  identity,  as  interpreted  by  his  logic,  which  con- 
trols and  reappears  continually  in  all  abstract  thought.  According  to  this  law,  every  thing  as  thought  or 
conceived,  is  thought  or  conceived  by  means  of  its  relation  to  something  not  itself— when  completely 
conceived,  by  its  relation  to  every  thing  other  than  itself.  As  conceived  it  must  therefore  depend  entirely 
upon  this  other.  What  any  thing  depends  upon,  that  it  may  be  conceived,  is  its  ground  or  reason.  The 
relation  of  dependence,  of  reason,  of  causation,  is  therefore  involved  in  that  of  identity.  In  the  act  of 
conceiving  an  object  to  be  what  it  is,  is  involved  its  dependence  upon  another  object  in  the  relation  of  its 
ground,  reason,  or  cause. 

It  is  true,  in  a  certain  sense,  that  the  objects  related  make  up  or  constitute  the  concept 
of  which  they  are  said  to  be  the  constituents.    If  the  elements  a  and  6  and  c  constitute 
ds  Teasonin*0         any  whole  A  (a8  certain  properties  constitute  chalk,)  then  they  are  the  grounds,  or 
reason,  or  cause  of  A,  as  a  concept ;  but  this  relation  of  dependence  by  which  the  con- 
cept is  thought?  differs  greatly  from  the  relation  of  production  by  which  the  thing  ia 
originated.    The  one  cannot  be  resolved  into  the  other. 

The  dependence  in  the  one  case  is  that  of  consistency  in  thinking.  In  this  case  the  causality  is  made 
by  the  active  mind  that  originally  thought  these  elements  together  in  a  single  concept,  according  to  the 
objective  relations  which  it  discerns  between  the  objects  thought.  But  the  causality  with  which  we  are 
concerned  is  a  causality  between  things,  which  is  distinguished  from  and  superadded  to  these  so-called 
logical  relations. 

When  I  compare  twenty  objects  with  each  other  and  conceive  one  as  diverse  from  the  other  nineteen, 
these  nineteen  are  necessary  to,  and  the  grounds  of  the  concept  of,  this  one  as  thought  to  be  different  from 
the  rest.  If  five  are  alike  in  form  or  color,  the  four  must  be  thought  of  that  the  likeness  of  the  fifth  to 
the  four  may  be  conceived.  These  five  are  the  reasons,  or  causes,  or  conditions,  of  this  likeness  as  dis- 
cerned. Heat  applied  to  water  causes  steam.  Steam  cannot  be  thought  of  except  as  heat  and  water  enter 
into  the  concept,  but  the  belief  of  the  production  of  actual  steam  by  its  actual  constituents,  implies  another 
relation,  than  that  of  mere  thought.  We  form  many  concepts  by  means  of  the  relation  of  causality,  it  u 
true,  but  not  every  element  that  is  constituent  of  a  concept  is  causal  in  the  relation  of  things. 

§  602.  The  eighth  theory  called  &  priori,  is  the  theory  ad- 
vanced  by  Sir  William  Hamilton,  Met.  Lee.,  39,  40.  This 
theory  derives  our  conceptions  of,  and  our  belief  in,  the  rola- 
tion,  not  from  a  power,  but  an  impotence  of  mind ;  in  a  word,  it  resolves  it 
into  the  more  general  "principle  of  the  conditioned."  The  law  of  the  con- 
ditioned is,  that  "  the  conceivable  has  always  two  opposite  extremes,  and 
"hat  the  extremes  are  equally  inconceivable.  That  the  conditioned  is  to  be 
viewed  not  as  a  power,  but  as  a  powerlessness  of  mind  is  evinced  by  this 
-—that  the  two  extremes  are  contradictories,  though  neither  alternative 
can  be  conceived  or  thought  as  possible,  one  or  other  must  be  admitted  in 
be  necessary." 


590  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

This  general  powerlessness  gives  the  special  relation  of  causality,  when  applied  to  the  tiro 
positive  forms  under  which  every  object  is  and  must  be  conceived,  viz.,  existence  and  time. 
By  the  necessity  of  the  first,  the  mind  cannot  but  think  of  every  object  as  existing.  It 
cannot,  if  it  tries,  think  of  any  thing  as  not  existing.  By  the  second,  the  thing  existing  is  not 
now  what  it  was  a  moment  before.  We  cannot  think  of  any  object  as  non-existing  in  the 
present.  No  more  can  we  think  of  the  same  as  non-existent  in  the  past.  We  cannot  think 
of  its  absolute  commencement  in  the  past,  nor  can  we  think  of  its  absolute  termination  in  th« 
future.  Nor  can  we  think  of  its  absolute  non-commencement,  nor  of  its  infinite  non-termina- 
tion. "  This  gives  us  the  category  of  the  conditioned  as  applied  to  the  category  of  existence 
under  the  category  of  time." 

By  this  application  of  the  principle  of  the  conditioned,  the  principle  of  causality  is  gained 
For  the  law  of  causality  is  simply  this,  that  when  an  object  appears  to  commence  in  time,  we 
cannot  but  suppose  that  the  complement  of  existence  which  it  contains,  has  previously  existed ; 
"  in  other  words,  that  all  we  at  present  come  to  know  as  an  effect,  must  previously  have 
existed  in  its  causes." 

According  to  this  theory,  the  cause  or  causes  of  an  object  are  the  sum  of  the  constituent 
elements  of  its  being,  existing  at  a  previous  time  in  a  different  form ;  the  effects  are  the  same, 
as  existing  in  another  form  at  a  subsequent  time.  This  applies  to  every  form  of  causation, 
even  to  the  creation  of  the  universe.  For  creation  is  not  a  springing  of  nothing  into  some- 
thing ;  "  it  is  conceived,  and  is  by  us  conceivable  merely  as  an  evolution  of  a  new  form  of 
existence  by  the  fiat  of  the  Deity." 

Similar  to  this  theory  in  principle,  is  the  theory  of  Mansel,  Proleg.  Loff.y 
Mansel's  version  cnaP-  v-  We  have  a  positive  consciousness  of  the  relation  of  causality  in  the 
of  the  same.  action  of  our  own  minds,  but  when  we  apply  this  to  the  phenomena  of  the 
material  universe,  it  is  only  in  some  negative  and  inadequate  signification. 
When  we  thus  apply  it,  we  do  not  use  it  as  an  original  and  necessary  principle  of  knowledge, 
corresponding  to  which  is  a  fundamental  and  universal  relation  of  being,  but  we  simply  find 
ourselves  so  constituted,  that,  in  the  present  state  of  existence  and  under  the  laws  of  our 
present  mental  constitution,  we  cannot  but  think  every  object  under  this  relation. 

The  theories  of  Hamilton  and  Mansel  are  in  their  principle  identical  with  the  general 
theory  of  Kant,  from  which  they  were  plainly  derived.  They  all  agree  in  this,  that 

both  to  K  01t  though  we  are  forced  in  our  human  thinking  and  under  the  laws  of  our  human  consti- 

tution to  believe  in  causation  as  universal,  yet  this  necessity  may  result  (Hamilton 
and  Mansel  both  teach  that  it  does  result)  from  our  incapacity  to  think  objects  under 

any  other  relation,  i,  e.,  as  they  explain  this  relation.    Kant  teaches  that  we  are  forced  to  conceive,  i.  e. 

image  the  relation  of  causation  under  the  relations  of  changing  phenomena  succeeding  one  another  in 

time.    Hamilton  states  this  assertion  in  a  form  more  positive  than  that  adopted  by  Kant. 

The  objections  to  this  positive  explanation,  so  far  as  it  is  peculiar  to 
Hamilton,  are  the  following  : 

8  603.     (1.)  It  is  not  true  that  it  is  an  original  and  necessary 

Objections.  Ele-      ' 

ments   of    ex-    belief  that  the  complement  of  existence  is  not  changed  with 

istence    not  in-  »      '•*  T-I  i  M 

iestructibie.  the  changes  or  phenomena.  Jtfor  example,  when  a  pile  oi 
fuel  is  consumed  by  fire,  and  only  an  inconsiderable  residuum  of  ashes 
remains,  men  do  not  necessarily  and  instinctively  assert  that  the  total  of 
the  original  constituents  of  the  fuel  is  undiminished.  So  far  is  this  from 
being  true,  that,  on  the  other  hand,  they  are  slow  to  accept  the  evidence 
furnished  by  the  most  careful  experiments  of  science,  that  the  products, 
when  analyzed  and  gathered  after  combustion,  equal  the  elements  of  the 
substance  before  it  was  burned. 


§  003.  CAUSATION   AND   THE    EELATION    OF   CAUSALITY.  591 

The  impossibii-  (2.)  The  asserted  impossibility  to  think  an  object  as  non« 
cifanje  ^iSca^f  existent  is  a  logical,  not  a  real  impossibility.  We  cannot 

think  any  thing  not  to  be  in  thought,  because,  while  we 
think  of  it,  it  must  exist  for  us  in  thought.  Even  when  we  think  of  it 
as  not  existing,  whether  in  the  present  or  in  the  past,  we  must  think  of  it 
as  existing  in  thought,  and  to  this  object  as  existing  in  thought  we  must 
deny  existence  in  fact.  If  we  think  of  a  centaur  or  a  hippogriff,  we  must 
think  of  it  as  being.  If,  because  we  cannot  think  of  an  object  actually 
existing  to  be  non-existent,  we  may  infer  that  the  complement  of  its  exist- 
ence does  not  change,  we  may  also  infer  that,  because  we  must  think  of  a. 
centaur  or  hippogriff  as  existing,  they  also  in  fact  exist. 

(3.)  The  theory  is  utterly  inadequate  to  explain  psychical 

Does  not  explain  J  ,      * 

psychical  causal-  causality,  ihe  operations  of  the  soul  are,  as  we  have  seen, 
eminently  causal.  From  our  conscious  experience  of  this 
class  of  actions  the  first  notion  of  causality  is  derived.  Whether  the 
effects  in  question  are  produced  by  the  action  of  the  soul  within  itself, 
and  are  purely  psychical,  or  whether  they  are  wrought  in  the  nervous 
organism  by  the  soul ;  whether  they  are  wrought  upon  matter  by  the  soul, 
or  upon  the  soul  by  matter ;  in  each  of  these  cases  the  theory  fails  to 
satisfy.  There  is  no  complement  of  existence  appearing  in  different  forms 
at  different  times.  An  effect  purely  psychical,  or  physiological,  or  material, 
is  not  conceived  as  the  same  constituents  under  a  new  form.  It  is  what 
the  terms  denote  it  to  be — a  product,  an  effect,  a  result  of  activity,  a  conse- 
quent of  the  power  and  action  which  are  required  for  and  appropriate  to 
the  result. 

(4.)  It  is  still  more  incongruous  with  any  right  notion  of 
creative  causality.  The  creation  of  matter  or  of  mind 
implies  the  production  or  origination  into  existence  of  that 
which  did  not  exist  in  any  of  its  constituents.  It  is  called  by  Hamilton, 
**  the  evolution  of  a  new  form  of  existence  by  the  fiat  of  the  Deity."  But 
evolution  ought,  in  consistency  with  his  theory,  to  signify  the  changing  of 
the  materials  already  existing  under  one  form  into  some  new  form ;  the 
kind  of  existence  being  already  in  being.  This  would  require  either  that 
we  believe  in  the  co-eternity  of  matter  with  God,  and  that  we  restrict  the 
agency  of  the  Deity  to  the  exercise  of  a  merely  plastic  or  formative  energy, 
or  it  would  involve  the  pantheistic  view,  that  in  the  spiritual  nature  or 
constitution  of  God  there  was  also  present  a  material  substance,  from 
which,  by  a  new  evolution  of  divine  action,  the  created  universe  emerged, 
as  a  new  form  of  the  matter  which  had  from  eternity  existed  in  God.  From 
spirit  as  such,  from  a  pure  spiritual  essence,  it  cannot  be  conceived  that 
matter  should  be  evolved,  in  any  consistency  with  the  theory  of  Hamilton 
as  defined  by  himself. 

(5.)  The  relation  of  causality  is  not  special  under  the  general  law  of 
the  conditioned,  if  it  be  admitted  that  this  law  is  truly  stated. 


592  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  605. 

§  604.  The  third  theory,  which  is  named  sixth  by  Hamilton,  among  the  theories 
pectation  of  rjon-  d  priori,  is  as  it  would  seem,  even  by  Hamilton's  own  concession,  rather  rec- 
tor"?7 °f  na~  °gnized  for  tne  8ake  of  making  his  scheme  of  classification  complete,  than 

because  it  deserves  a  separate  place  under  either  the  class  d  priori,  or  the 
class  d  posteriori.  It  is  that  suggested  by  Dr.  Brown,  under  the  terms  of  the  expectation  of 
the  constancy  of  nature  in  the  succession  of  events.  A  close  examination  of  Dr.  Brown's 
meaning  will  show  that  he  uses  expectation  as  synonymous  with  belief  or  intuitional  certainty, 
as  indeed  Hamilton  himself  recognizes. 

The  various  attempts  to  resolve  the  relation  of  causality  into 

Conclusion.  .  .  , 

our  position  re-    some  other  relation  either  d  posteriori  or  a  priori    having 
failed  to  be  satisfactory,  we  return  with  greater  confidence 
to  the  original  position  which  we  have  already  explained  and  defended 
that  it  is  original  and  intuitive. 

The  various  applications  of  the  relation  and  principle  of  causality  in  the  processes  of  the 
intellect,  as  well  as  its  significance  as  an  assumption  fundamental  to  our  higher  knowledge, 
illustrate  and  enforce  its  importance.  These  applications  have  been  already  so  frequently 
insisted  upon  and  referred  to,  that  it  is  useless  to  repeat  them,  especially  as  we  shall  have 
occasion  to  illustrate  them  at  length  in  Chapter  VII. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

DESIGN    OK   FINAL   CAUSE. 

FROM  the  principle  or  relation  of  causation  we  pass  by  a  natural  transition  to  the  principle  of 
design  or  adaptation,  or,  as  it  is  usually  termed,  of  final  cause.  We  have  already  ex- 
plained that  this,  in  an  eminent  sense,  is  a  synthetic  relation,  and  in  this  respect  is  con. 
trasted  with  the  relation  of  causality.  The  movement  of  the  lafter  is  from  the  individual 
to  the  general,  from  the  less  to  the  more  comprehensive.  The  movement  of  adaptation 
and  final  cause  is  from  the  general  to  the  particular  and  the  individual.  It  unites  con 
stituent  elements  into  constituted  wholes.  It  follows  causes  and  laws  in  their  moverr  enta 
toward  intended  effects.  It  binds  together  different  species  and  individuals  in  the  unity 
of  a  harmonious  system.  It  develops  the  existence  and  the  events  of  this  system  ifter 
an  order  which  supposes  a  definite  plan  for  a  definite  end.  It  explains  the  beings  and 
the  powers,  the  laws  and  development  of  this  system  by  a  supreme  Intelligence. 

Terms  explain-  §  605-  ^he  phrase  or  term  final  cause  should  first  of  all  be 
&JOISacient  exPlained?  and  tne  connection  of  thought  by  which  it  is 
and  final  causes.  appiied  to  designate  the  relation  of  design.  Aristotle  and 
the  schoolmen  divided  all  possible  or  conceivable  causes  into  four;  the 
material,  formal,  efficient,  and  final.  The  material  cause  is  but  another 
phrase  for  those  material  elements  or  principles  of  which  any  existence  is 
composed,  whether  the  matter  is  bodily  or  spiritual.  The  formal  cause  is 
the  property  or  aggregation  of  properties  which  constitute  its  essence  or 
notional  content  (in  Aristotelian  phraseology,  its  form).  It  answers  to  the 


§  606.  DESIGN    OR   FINAI     CAUSE.  593 

belief  which  we  have  seen  lay  at  the  root  of  the  views  of  the  realistic  con- 
ception of  the  correlate  to  the  notion  or  general  term.  (§  426). 

In  these  two  senses,  the  word  cause  is  equivalent  to  element  or  con 
stitutive  principle,  each  differing  according  as  that  which  is  constituted  is 
matter  or  form,. 

The  efficient  cause  corresponds  with  the  cause  of  modern  philosophy, 
except  that  it  was  formerly  appropriated  to  the  most  conspicuous  or 
prominent  of  the  agents  or  conditions  that  produce  a  result ;  whereas,  in 
modern  usage,  the  term  is  extended  to  all  those  agents  which,  in  combina- 
tion, originate  an  effect. 

The  final  cause  was  the  design  or  end  which  was  conceived  as  impel- 
ling and  directing  the  action  of  a  number  or  succession  of  agencies,  till  it 
was  actually  brought  to  pass.  The  propriety  or  at  least  the  significance 
of  this  appellation  can  be  understood  by  an  example.  If  I  form  a  pur- 
pose, as  to  build  a  house,  to  pay  a  visit,  or  make  great  moral  or  intellectual 
attainments,  the  event  or  result  when  made  actual,  will  be  the  end  of  a 
series  of  events  or  actions.  Hence  the  end,  by  a  secondary  signification, 
is  made  to  signify  a  purposed  result  or  a  design,  and  the  adjective  final 
receives  and  suggests  the  same  import.  The  purpose  is  called  a  cause, 
because  it  is  conceived  when  formed  as  prompting  or  causing  those  events 
or  acts  which  are  necessary  fo  its  realization.  Hence  the  appellation,  final 
cause, — i.  e.,  a  cause,  which,  beginning  as  a  thought,  works  itself  at  last 
into  a  fact  as  an  end  OY  final  result. 

Aristotle  called  the  formal  cause  T^V  ovaiav  Kal  rb  ri  ^v  elvai,  the  material  cause  T^V  I/ATJ* 
Kal  rb  uTro/cefyiejw,  the  efficient  cause  o&ev  y  apx^  TTJS  Kirfifffws,  and  the  final  cause  rb  ov  eWfcot 
Kal  Taya^6v.  Met.  1.  I.  83  a  27,  a  29,  a  30,  a  31. 

§  606.  The  design  conceived  as  directing  or  impelling  a 
adaptation,  how  series  of  agents  to  an  end,  supposes  that  agencies  exist  in 

fact,  or  may  exist,  which  will  bring  it  to  pass.  The  capacity 
of  these  efficient  causes  when  combined  to  produce  the  effect  is  called  their 
adaptation  or  fitness  for  it.  The  question  is  supposed  to  arise,  what 
causes  or  agencies  must  be  used  in  order  that  it  may  be  effected,  or  in 
order  that  it  may  be  effected  in  the  best  or  the  readiest  manner  ?  It  is 
answered  by  showing  that  the  agencies  selected  will  bring  it  to  pass. 
This  adaptation  may  be  considered  subjectively  or  objectively.  If  it  is 
viewed  as  arranged  or  known  by  the  designer,  it  may  be  considered  sul> 
jectively.  But  whether  it  is  known  or  not,  the  capacity  for  or  the  possi- 
bility  of  it  exists  and  remains  to  be  discovered.  It  pertains  to  actually 
existing  forces  and  laws  of  nature,  and  is  a  relation  which  may  be  affirmed 
of  such  causes.  A  series  or  combination  of  causes,  viewed  as  fitted  for  an  end 
are  called  the  means — literally  the  intermediate  agencies — between  the  end 
as  thought  and  the  end  as  produced,  and  their  relation  to  it,  is  adaptation. 

38 


£94  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  608, 

The  rektion  as-  That  the  relation  of  design  and  the  means  of  its  execution, 
8a™eandS  dGprT-  often  exists  and  may  be  traced  in  both  spiritual  and  material 
"*•  phenomena  separately  and  conjoined  together,  will  be  denied 

by  no  one.  The  point  which  we  assert  and  defend  is  that  this  relation  is 
believed  d  priori  to  pervade  all  existence,  and  must  be  assumed  as  the 
ground  of  the  sciejitific  explanation  of  the  facts  and  phenomena  of  the 
universe.  We  do  not  inquire  whether  it  is  observed  in  our  experience  as  a 
psychological  fact,  but  whether  it  lies  at  the  ground  of  all  our  knowledge 
as  a  necessary  relation  of  things,  and  a  first  principle  or  axiom  of  thought 
— whether,  in  other  words,  the  principle  of  adaptation  ranks  with  the  prin- 
ciple of  efficient  causation  as  a  necessary  and  d  priori  truth. 

Thekindof    ^  mav  a^  us  to  ^n(^  an  answer  *°  tne  question  in  the  form  last  expressed,  to 

knowledge     consider  what  description  of  knowledge  rests  upon  the  axiom  of  efficient 

winch  rest*  upon 

efficient    causa-     causation.     By  the  relation  asserted  m  this  axiom,  we  conceive  of  material 

and  spiritual  agents  as  endowed  with  powers.  These  powers  are  simply 
causal  forces,  competent  to,  and  productive  of,  their  appropriate  effects.  These  powers  act 
under  their  several  conditions  and  according  to  their  appropriate  laws.  It  is  the  aim  of  sci- 
ence, as  commonly  conceived,  to  discover  these  powers  by  close  and  skilful  observation,  and 
to  determine  their  laws  by  exact  analysis  and  inventive  experiment.  The  wider  or  narrower 
range  of  these  powers  and  laws  is  also  noticed  by  methodical  arrangement,  and  in  this  way  all 
beings  and  phenomena  are  explained  according  to  their  place  in  a  scientific  system. 

8607.    The  question  which  we  are  now  to  answer  is,  whether 

Can  final   cause      '  -V  .         .  .      . 

be  similarly  ap-  the  relation  of  design  may  be  applied  in  a  manner  similar  or 
analogous,  to  connect,  to  classify,  and  to  explain  facts  and 
phenomena.  Are  the  relations  and  laws  which  are  ascertained  by  asking 
the  questions  why  and  how,  the  only  relations  conceivable,  or  do  other 
relations  hold  the  same  place  in  our  knowledge,  viz.,  those  which  the  ques- 
tion what  for  assumes,  and  requires  as  its  answer  ?  Aristotle  gave  the 
highest  preeminence  among  all  the  causes  to  the  ov  CVCKO.  or  the  what  for. 
Was  Aristotle  right  in  assuming  that  the  end  is  as  important  to  be  known 
as  the  definition,  the  conditions,  and  the  origination  of  a  being  or  a  phe- 
nomenon ? 

Xo  one  will  deny  that  if  it  were  possible  to  determine  the  ends  for  which  every 
Such  an  applica-  tiling  exists  and  every  event  occurs,  and  to  explain  and  arrange  these  beings 
be  desirable?'1  '  and  phenomena  under  the  relations  which  the  end  involves,  a  new  interest 
would  be  imparted  to  the  objects  thus  known,  and  the  mind  would  experience 
a  special  gratification.  Many  objects  are  thus  explained  and  arranged,  and  these  results  always 
attend  the  knowledge  of  them  under  these  relations.  But  is  this  knowledge  necessarily 
assumed  as  possible  of  all  things  and  events  ?  Does  the  mind  believe  that  every  thing  and 
every  event  is  connected  with  every  other  thing  and  event  under  the  relation  of  means  and  end  ? 

§  608.  We  assert  that  the  relation  of  means  and  end  is 
Sind°niimpeiied  assumed  a  priori  to  be  true  of  every  event  and  being  in  the 
SctsTy  This  re-  universe,  and  that  the  mind  directs  its  inquiries  by,  and  rests 

its  knowledge  upon  this,  as  an  intuitive  principle.  Oui 
reasons  for  the  truth  of  this  position  are  the  following : 


§  610  DESIGN    OR   FINAL   CAUSE.  59A 

(1.)  The  mind  is  impelled  to  seek,  and  is  satisfied  when  it  finds  that  any 
objects  or  events  are  related  as  means  and  ends.  Whatever  these  objects 
may  be  which  are  connected  under  this  relation,  —  whether  they  are  indi- 
viduals that  fill  only  single  points  in  space  and  endure  but  for  a  moment 
of  time,  or  whole  classes  that  pervade  the  entire  universe  by  their  agency, 
and  endure  with  energy  un  wasted  from  generation  to  generation,  as  the 
great  forces  that  hold  all  beings  together  and  minister  to  all  motion  and 
life  —  the  mind  inquires,  for  what  do  these  exist  and  act  ?  and  if  it  can  find 
an  answer,  it  accepts  it  with  rational  satisfaction. 

It  asks  the  question  and  accepts  the  answer  in  a  way  precisely  analogous  to  that  in  which 
it  inquires  and  learns,  By  what  agency  and  under  what  law  does  any  thing  exist  and  act  ?  It 
asks  as  pressingly  and  as  persistently,  concerning  what  it  may  find  in  this  relation,  as  concern- 
ing what  it  can  know  under  the  relation  of  causation.  When  it  receives  a  probable  answer, 
it  welcomes  it  with  a  more  complete  and  a  higher  satisfaction  than  a  similar  explanation  by 
efficient  causes  and  their  laws.  This  ground  of  analogy  would  lead  us  to  believe  that  the  two 
relations  are  both  original  and  intuitively  assumed. 

It  forms  no  ground  of  objection,  that  this  very  argument  for  the  truth  of  the  principle 
rests  on  the  assumption  that  the  principle  itself  is  true.  We  have  observed  that  we  must 
assume  the  truth  of  these  principles  in  inquiring  for  the  evidence  that  they  are  original.  We 
assume  the  originality  of  causation,  in  inquiring  whether  it  is  an  axiom  of  thought.  In  like 
manner  we  not  only  may,  but  we  must  assume  design  in  proving  that  design  is  an  original  and 
ultimate  category  of  knowledge  and  of  things. 

The  relation  is  §609.  (2.)  The  relations  under  which  this  axiom  requires  that 
o^effici^T^u-  objects  should  be  connected,  is  higher  than  that  by  which 
they  are  united  under  the  category  of  efficient  or  blind  causa- 
tive force.  The  relation  of  means  to  ends  supposes  that  of  cause  and 
effect.  We  must  first  suppose  causes  or  agents  to  exist,  before  we  can 
suppose  them  to  be  applied  or  employed  as  means.  Objects  must  be 
thought  of  as  endowed  with  permanent  powers,  which  act  after  fixed  laws 
under  recurring  conditions,  in  order  that  these  powers,  conditions,  and 
laws  may  be  GO  disposed  and  arranged  as  to  produce  a  designed  effect. 
If  there  are  no  such  forces  and  laws,  there  are  no  materials  in  respect  tc 
which  adaptation  can  exist,  or  through  which  it  can  be  made  manifest  or 
interpreted. 

But  when  these  are  ascertained,  and  by  them  unity  and  order  and  dependent  relationships 
are  established  among  the  otherwise  disconnected  beings  and  events  of  the  universe,  the  mind 
takes  a  step  higher  in  its  aspirations,  seeking  to  rearrange  under  a  higher  connection  objects 
united  under  these  lower  relations.  The  one  being  presumed,  and  in  part  at  least  successfully 
established,  the  mind  believes  that  a  higher  is  possible,  and  proceeds  to  discover  it.  Sub- 
jectively  viewed,  this  relation  gives  a  higher  satisfaction.  Objectively  regarded,  it  stands 
higher  in  rational  value  than  that  of  efficient  causation,  which  is  only  a  stepping-stone  and 
preparation,  with  respect  to  this. 

rhe      rinci  le    §  610.    (3.)  The  principle  has  been  of  essential  service  in  scien- 
discovery.     It  being  conceded  that  the  appropriate  sphere 


of  science  proper   is  to  develop   and  establish  the  so-called 


596  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §611 

powers  and  laws  of  nature,  and  that  the  discovery  of  adaptations  lies 
without  its  sphere,  it  is  still  true  that  the  belief  that  the  universe  is  full  oi 
such  adaptations,  is  of  essential  service  in  suggesting  powers  and  laws 
previously  undeveloped  and  undetermined.  The  history  of  scientific  dis 
covery  abounds  in  confirmations  of  this  truth. 

When  Harvey  observed  that  at  the  outlet  of  the  veins  and  the  rise  of  the 
covery    of    the     arteries  there  were  lying  within  each  certain  valves,  in  the  one  opening  in 


ward  towards  the  heart  and  in  the  other  opening  outward  away  from  the 
same;  he  was  persuaded  that  the  arrangement  indicated  an  end,  which 
supposed  activities  and  laws  which  were  not  yet  known.  The  functions  of  the  heart  and  the 
changes  in  the  blood,  so  far  as  known,  could  not  be  accounted  for  by,  nor  could  they  account 
for,  this  structure.  The  arrangement  of  these  valves,  supposing  that  it  was  designed  for  some 
use,  was  most  consistent  with  the  contraction  and  dilatation  of  the  heart  and  the  outflow  and 
return  of  the  blood  in  a  double  circulation  through  the  body  and  the  lungs. 

When  Cuvier  found  buried  in  the  drift  or  the  alluvial  deposit,  the  thigh  or 
arm-bone  of  an  animal,  and  pondered  over  the  depressions  and  protuberances 
comparative  upon  its  surface,  he  observed  that  they  were  hollowed  and  elevated  in  such  a 
way  as  to  be  specially  adapted  to  a  single  description  of  muscles.  These 
muscles,  in  their  turn,  were  adapted  to  the  feet  and  claws  of  an  animal  who  could  spring  upon, 
hold,  and  tear  its  prey.  The  length  and  shape  of  the  bone  required,  by  adaptation,  bones  of 
correspondent  shape  and  size  in  the  remainder  of  the  limb  and  in  the  entire  frame.  Such  a 
frame  as  this  must  be  furnished  with  a  peculiar  head.  Such  a  head  could  admit  only  peculiar 
jaws,  and  such  jaws  peculiar  teeth.  The  teeth  and  fangs  required  a  stomach  and  viscera  fitted 
for  the  digestion  of  animal  food.  Guided  by  his  belief  in  this  complete  adaptation  of  part  to  part, 
and  of  parts  to  the  whole,  he  reconstructed  the  skeleton  and  the  whole  animal  indeed,  either 
in  imagination  or  some  representative  material,  in  the  full  confidence  that  if  such  an  animal 
did  not  then  exist  it  had  existed  once,  and  this  bone  had  formed  a  part  of  its  structure. 
By  and  by  he  hears  that  it  exists  in  some  remote  part  of  the  earth,  or  an  entire  skeleton  is 
disinterred  as  like  as  possible  to  the  one  which  he  had  built  up  in  his  museum. 

Further  illustrations  of  the  value  of  this  principle  in  scientific  .discovery  will  be  given 
when  we  treat  of  its  application  to  the  several  sciences. 

8611.  (4.)  The  entire  superstructure  of  the  Inductive  Philos- 

The  Foundation      '  .   . 

of  the  inductive    ophy  rests  upon  the  principle  m  question.      1  his  position  has 

Philosophy.  L     J  _  T     .  r      . 

been  already  discussed  in  part  in  treating  or  Induction. 
It  has  been  already  shown  that  the  Inductive  method  rests  on  several 
assumptions.  They  are  such  as  these  :  nature  is  uniform  in  her  operations 
and  laws  ;  the  indications  or  signs  of  less  obvious  powers  and  laws  may 
be  confided  in  ;  the  analogies  of  nature  are  important  means  of  suggesting 
facts  and  laws,  and  of  inciting  to  experiment  and  discovery  ;  the  simplest 
relationships,  the  fewest  agencies,  and  the  most  economical  use  of  forces 
are  always  presumed.  These  and  other  like  axioms  of  the  student  of 
nature  are  but  varied  applications  of  the  principle  in  question  ;  viz.,  that 
in  the  universe,  objectively  considered,  there  is  an  intelligent  and  wise 
adaptation  of  powers  and  laws  to  rational  ends,  and  that  the  same  is  true 
of  the  relation  of  the  universe  to  the  knowing  mind. 

It  is  not  sufficient  for  the  philosopher  to  say  that  without  these  assumptions,  the  science 
5f  aaturc  itself  would  be  impossible,  inasmuch  as  the  conception  of  science  requires  that 


§  612.  DESIGN    OB   FINAL   CAUSE.  597 

powers  should  be  fixkl,  and  laws  should  be  uniform,  and  indications  and  analogies  should  be 
trustworthy;  that  were  science  not  to  assume  the  truth  of  these  maxims  she  would  commit 
suicide.  To  this  it  is  pertinent  to  reply,  what  if  science  itself  should  be  impossible  ?  What 
is  the  imperative  necessity  for  science  ?  The  physicist  must  concede  that  the  adaptations 
of  nature  to  the  methods  and  impulses  of  the  knowing  mind  are  such  as  indicate,  at  least 
that  class  of  designs  in  the  structure  of  the  universe,  which  the  possibility  of  science  requires. 
It  is  clear  that  the  very  axioms  of  the  Inductive  process  presume  the  relation  of  final 
cause.  This  of  itself  goes  far  to  prove  that  the  relation  itself  is  original  to  the  mind,  and  is 
intuitively  discerned.  But  this  Principle  is  not  only  required  to  sustain  and  enforce  our  con- 
fidence in  the  axioms  of  the  Inductive  method,  but 

Required  to  ex-  §  612«  (5-)  ^  *s  a^so  needed  to  explain  those  phenomena  of 
mena^f^rganic  organic  existence,  which  the  relations  of  efficient  causes  are 
existences.  entirely  incompetent  to  resolve  or  even  to  define.  An  organic 

being,  or  an  organism,  can  only  be  defined  as  a  being  of  which  each  organ 
acts  for  the  integrity  and  well-being  of  every  other  organ,  and  all  act 
together  for  the  life  of  the  whole.  More  abstractly,  and  in  the  terms  of  the 
relation  in  question,  an  organism  is  abeing  in  which  each  of  the  parts  and  the 
whole  are  respectively  means  and  ends  for  one  another.  We  find  it,  iu  fact, 
to  be  true,  that  in  any  living  being,  whether  plant  or  animal,  the  elements 
or  organs  act  together  so  as  to  promote  the  action  of  each  other,  and  of 
the  whole.  If  the  appropriate  function  of  each  organ  is  performed,  the 
function  of  every  other  is  also  fulfilled,  and  when  all  together  are  exerted 
they  are  the  conditions  of  the  growth,  the  development  and  the  several 
other  functions  of  the  plant  or  animal.  In  the  animal,  the  action  of  the 
lungs  is  necessary  to  that  of  the  heart,  and  the  action  of  the  heart  to  that 
of  the  lungs,  the  action  of  both  to  the  action  of  the  stomach,  and  the 
action  of  the  stomach  to  that  of  both  these,  and  the  mutual  action  of  these 
and  the  remaining  organs,  to  the  health  and  life  of  the  whole  body. 

The  elements  or  agents  of  which  these  organs  are  composed,  have  their  well- 
forcesh and1  laws  ascertained  mechanical  and  chemical  properties,  and  when  these  are  combined 
do  not  dispense  in  inorganic  substances,  their  results  follow  the  laws  which  control  them. 

But  when  they  are  combined  in  living  beings  or  their  organs,  these  powers 
and  laws  do  not  explain  in  the  least  degree  these  compounds  or  their  functions.  The  materials 
or  agents  which  form  the  heart,  the  lungs  or  the  brain,  do  not  at  all  explain  the  peculiar 
substance,  form,  or  functions  of  these  organs ;  much  less  do  they  account  for  the  singular 
capacity  which  they  possess  of  producing  a  whole  on  which  they  depend  for  their  own  existence 
as  a  living  heart,  lungs  and  brain,  and  which  in  its  turn  as  a  living  whole  is  dependent  on 
each  of  these. 

To  meet  the  exigency  and  to  account  for  these  phenomena,  a  new  force  has 
The  vital  force  been  resorted  to  by  physiologists  called  the  vital  force  or  the  principle  of  life 
aaide.  ^  '  which,  it  is  urged,  is  as  truly  proved  by  these  effects  to  exist  as  are  the  severa 

mechanical  and  chemical  agents  by  and  upon  which  it  acts.  Others  reject 
the  doctrine  of  a  single  force  as  a  merely  abstract  term  or  fiction  for  the  total  of  the  activities 
of  these  several  agents  to  their  peculiar  results.  Whichsoever  of  the  two  views  is  adopted, 
whether  that  of  a  single  force  modifying  the  action  of  these  agents,  or  of  the  reciprocal 
modification  by  these  forces  of  one  another,  no  law  or  rule  has  as  yet  been  discovered  in 
respect  to  their  action  which  casrf  any  light  upon  either  the  formation  or  functions  of  the 


598  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §612 

organs  or  organisms  in  question.  The  same  materials  combine  to  form  the  structure  of  the 
heart,  the  lungs  and  the  brain.  And  yet  under  this  force,  whatever  it  may  be,  out  of  the  samt 
constituents  are  formed  these  three  organs,  each  shaped  according  to  its  typical  form  and  each 
endowed  with  its  special  function.  The  heart  is  moulded,  divided  into  cavities  and  endowed  with 
a  rare  capacity  of  perpetual  and  almost  independent  activity ;  the  lungs  are  expanded  into  an 
almost  gauze-like  tissue,  through  which  without  rending  the  texture,  the  blood  can  come  into 
chemical  combination  with  the  oxygen  of  the  atmosphere ;  the  dough-like  substance  of  the 
brain  is  kneaded  into  unsymmetrical  and  insignificant  forms,  which  in  some  way  become  the 
organ  of  the  most  refined  functions  of  sense  and  reason.  These  are  so  united  with  other  organs 
as  inexplicable  as  themselves,  as  by  organic  actions  and  reactions  to  make  a  living  whole,  after 
the  law  of  a  species,  and  yet  sustaining  an  individual  life.  These  facts  we  observe;  these 
phenomena  we  generalize,  yet  only  in  the  rudest  way.  The  laws  or  processes  by  which  the 
nitrogen  and  carbon  are  made  into  heart  and  brain  we  do  not  discover.  All  that  we  can  do, 
is  within  the  sphere  of  the  mechanical  and  chemical  relations  of  the  constituent  elements  to 
observe  the  resultant  products  into  which  they  are  transmuted ;  but  the  laws  by  which  they 
produce  them,  are  hidden  from  view.  The  Inductive  philosophy,  with  its  efficient  causations, 
is  wholly  at  a  loss  :  It  cannot  explain  how  the  agents  which  form  the  vegetable  or  the  animal 
cell  should  impart  to  that  least  microcosm  the  wonderful  power  of  adding  cell  after  cell  to  its 
substance  or  of  developing  a  new  cell  from  within  itself.  Much  less  can  it  explain  why  or 
how  it  is  that  one  cell  is  the  rudiment  of  a  plant  and  another  that  of  an  animal — that  one 
expands  into  this  plant,  and  another  into  that;  one  into  this  animal  and  another  into  that. 
All  this  is  totally  unknown.  The  principle  of  life  and  the  conditions  of  life  are  only  names 
for  causes  that  cannot  be  explained  by  such  methods.  The  effects  cannot  even  be  described 
much  less  explained  by  the  relations  of  efficient  causes  or  powers. 

Under  these  circumstances  we  resort  to  the  relation  of  design 

Relations  of  .,  ,.         ,          ,  m,  1 

adaptation  m  order  to  define  and  explain  the  phenomena.  I  he  adapta- 
tion can  be  scientifically  expressed  as  follows.  The  constitu- 
ent agents,  besides  the  powers,  as  mechanical  or  chemical,  which  they  are 
known  to  possess,  are  also  so  constituted  that  they  can  be  combined  in  an 
organ  or  an  organism,  so  as  to  sustain  it  as  living  so  long  as  it  in  turn 
sustains  them  as  living.  Their  power  to  do  this  is  defined  only  by  individual 
effects,  but  cannot  be  defined  by  any  general  formulsB.  The  materials 
can  never  a  second  time  share — by  giving  and  receiving — in  the  same  life. 
That  which  makes  them  living,  is  their  relation  to  one  individual  life. 
The  variety  of  these  adaptations  is  as  great  as  the  number  of  individual 
lives  into  which  they  could  possibly  enter.  The  action  or  function  of  each 
part  and  of  the  whole  is  as  though  an  intelligence  had  carefully  fitted  each 
to  the  other,  and  controlled  the  mutual  action  of  each  by  studied  adjust- 
ments to  every  individual  case. 

After  no  other  relation  can  we  explain  how  dead  matter  is  transmuted  into  living  parti- 
cles, and  how  an  aggregate  of  these  particles  is  developed  into  living  organs,  which  liv« 
together  so  long  as  the  being  lives  of  which  they  are  parts.  By  no  other  law  than  that  of 
design  can  we  explain  how  each  class  of  living  beings  works  for  itself,  having  a  form,  habits, 
tastes,  and  instincts  peculiar  to  itself,  and  how  each  individual  of  each  class  is  an  end  to  itself, 
caving  an  individual  form,  size,  and  other  peculiarities  more  or  less  marked,  according  to  it* 
rank  and  place  in  the  scale  of  being. 


§  614.  DESIGN    OR   FINAL   CAUSE.  599 

§  613-  Two  facts  are  here  suggested  touching  the  relation  of 


causes     n   the    final  to  efficient  causes.     The  first  is,  that  the  higher  we  rise 

higher  orders  of     .  J  ° 

being.  m  the  order  of  beings,  the  less  we  know  of  the  relations 

of  efficient  causes  y  but  those  of  final  cause  are  more  and  more  various  and 
conspicuous.  In  unorganized  matter  we  have  occasion  chiefly  to  apply  effi- 
cient causes  and  their  unvarying  laws.  As  we  rise  into  the  sphere  of 
chemical  and  crystalline  combinations,  while  many  such  forces  and  laws 
are  still  clearly  distinguished  and  definitely  ascertained,  the  mystery  in  re- 
spect to  both  seems  to  deepen;  but  the  adaptations  grow  more  conspicuous. 
As  we  ascend  into  the  regions  of  life,  we  are  more  and  more  baffled  in  our 
attempts  to  detect  the  elementary  forces  and  to  determine  the  unvarying 
laws,  but  are  more  and  more  gratified  at  seeing  the  relations  of  adapta- 
tion become  more  and  more  conspicuous. 

Second  :  The  one  of  these  relations  does  not  displace  the 
displace  d°eth°e  other  ^  nor  do  discoveries  in  respect  to  the  one  either  com- 

pel or  allow  us  to  dispense  with  the  search  after  the  other. 
On  the  contrary,  the  more  complete  is  our  analysis  of  efficient  forces 
and  our  determination  of  their  laws,  the  greater  is  the  opportunity  to 
notice  how  the  structure  whose  constituents  are  exposed  by  analysis, 
is  controlled  by  manifest  fitness  and  adaptation.  As  has  already  been 
observed,  it  is  only  as  physical  forces  are  discerned,  that  the  relations 
of  adaptation  can  be  made  manifest.  On  the  other  hand,  discerned 
adaptations  suggest  the  possibility  of  unknown  elements,  and  prompt  to 
the  search  after  them.  Each  newly  discovered  element  and  determined 
law  opens  an  opportunity  for  some  adaptation  as  yet  unobserved. 

Objections  :     (1.) 

Men  mistake  in  §  614.  To  the  doctrine  that  the  belief  in  design  is  intuitive, 

their  judgments    »  ,*        .  -, 

about  final    the  following  are  urged  as  objections  : 

causes. 

(1.)  Men  mistake  in  discovering  or  assigning  ends,  and  the  mistakes 
into  which  they  fall  are  irrational  and  foolish  ;  whatever  an  ignorant  or 
selfish  man  may  think  important  to  himself,  he  thinks  must  have  been 
designed  in  the  economy  of  nature,  and  is  thus  in  continual  danger  of 
setting  up  his  narrow  and  interested  judgments  as  the  real  adaptations 
and  intents  of  the  Creator. 

It  is  sufficient  to  reply  that,  if  men  mistake  in  assigning  the  ends  of 
phenomena,  they  do  the  same  in  interpreting  their  causes.  It  is  not  at  all 
ir  question  whether  men  can  discover  particular  ends  with  infallible  cer 
tainty,  but  whether  they  intuitively  believe  there  are  ends  to  which  all 
beings  and  agents  are  adapted,  and  for  which  they  are  designed. 

The  objection  enables  us  to  bring  out  distinctly  the  truth  that,  in  both  respects,  the 
principle  of  causation  and  of  final  cause  stand  upon  the  same  footing.  In  the  application  of 
both  to  individual  cases  men  are  liable  to  error,  and,  for  similar  reasons,  from  defect  of  intellect 
from  hasty  observation  and  narrow  generalization,  as  well  as  from  the  moral  defects  of  vanity 


600  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §615 

indocility,  and  self-will.  In  the  assumption  and  belief  of  these  principles  they  are  equall) 
confident  as  they  should  be,  because  both  are  alike  intuitive. 

(2.)  Our  inter-  §  615-  (2-)  I*  may  be  objected  that  we  have  no  means  of 
neither°bl tested  ^ting  and  confirming  our  inductions  in  respect  to  ends, 
nor  confirmed,  while  in  respect  of  causes  and  laws  we  are  provided  with 
tests,  rules,  and  methods  which  are  universally  acknowledged  to  be  all- 
sufficient.  In  ordinary  cases  the  methods  of  agreement,  of  difference,  and 
of  concomitant  variations  are  acknowledged  to  be  ample:  In  special 
exigencies  artificial  experiments  may  be  instituted  to  supplement  the 
deficiences  of  simple  observation :  But  in  ascertaining  ends  we  have  no 
such  methods,  tests,  or  experiments. 

In  reply,  we  observe  that  the  so-called  methods  and  rules  of  induction  are  no  self-acting 
categories  or  logical  machinery  which  need  only  to  be  set  in  motion  to  secure  infallibility  from 
error,  but  are  simply  general  maxims  which  sum  up  and  record  the  proceses  which  are  natural 
to  all  men.  Man  performs  inductions  as  really  without  as  with  the  conscious  use  of  these 
rules,  thereby  showing  that  he  believes  in  the  universal  prevalence  and  discoverableness  of 
causes  and  laws.  So,  also,  does  he  search  after  and  discover  ends  as  naturally  and  readily, 
which  indicates  that  his  belief  in  design  is  original  and  necessary.  If  it  were  to  be  conceded 
that  each  are  discovered  and  tested  by  methods  peculiar  to  themselves,  and  that  those  used  for 
the  one  were  more  precisely  determined  than  those  appropriate  to  the  other,  this  would  not 
weaken  our  confidence  either  in  the  general  intuition,  or  in  our  special  applications  of  it. 

We  are  not,  however,  forced  to  this  concession.     It  will  be 

Not  entirely  un- 

likejn  their  op-    found  on  closer  inspection,  that  the  methods  appropriate  to 

eration    or  phe- 
nomena, the   two    are    more   nearly    alike   than    would   be    at    first 

imagined.  It  has  been  already  shown,  §  605,  that  the  end  or  purpose  in 
its  relations  to  the  means  of  its  realization,  may  be  conceived  of  as  an 
efficient  force  carried  back  from  the  end  to  the  beginning  of  the  series  of 
causes  and  effects,  which  drives  them  to  their  issue  by  a  constant  energy. 
If  this  be  so,  then  the  determination  of  the  question,  What  is  the  par- 
ticular end  of  a  combination  or  series  ?  may  be  ascertained  by  the  methods 
appropriate  to  an  efficient  cause,  the  end  being  conceived  as  acting  like 
such  a  cause.  It  may  be  less  easy  in  some  cases  to  suggest  or  devise  the 
probable  end  than  it  is  to  conjecture  the  probable  cause,  inasmuch  as 
many  such  ends  might  be  supposed  in  a  given  case  as  equally  compatible 
with  the  effects.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  urged  that  in  other 
departments  of  nature,  as  the  organic  and  historical,  the  ends  and  adapta- 
tions are  so  obvious  as  to  flash  upon  the  mind  without  the  need  of  inquiry 
or  tests  of  any  kind,  while  in  these  very  departments  the  efficient  forces 
are  so  withdrawn  as  to  elude  the  most  subtle  analysis,  and  to  refuse  tc 
yield  to  the  most  exact  and  rigorous  methods. 

Nor  should  we  for  a  moment  forget  that  these  very  methods  of  in- 
duction rest  on  the  assumption  of  this  same  adaptation  to  rational  ends  it 
rhe  constitution  of  nature,  for  which  we  claim  the  priority  and  authoritj 
of  a  principle  intuitively  discerned. 


§  616.  DESIGN   OB   FINAL   CAUSE.  601 

•3.)  This  ,  elation  §  616'  (3>)  Jt  may  ke  sti11  farther  objected  that  the  adaptation 
f  ex°p^  °^  means  to  er|ds  is  a  phenomenon,  or  actual  relation,  of  which 


rence. 


we  are  aware  from  our  own  conscious  activity,  and  it  is  simply 
by  a  fiction  or  imagination  that  we  transfer  it  to  other,  i.  e.,  to  mate- 
rial objects  :  If  it  be  granted  that  we  adapt  means  to  ends  in  our  own 
rational  procedures,  we  are  not  therefore  warranted  in  affirming  that  a 
similar  procedure  is  to  be  assumed  of  the  entire  universe. 
The  same  is  true  ^°  ^s  objection  we  reply,  that  the  activity  of  our  own 
of  that  of  em-  minds  and  the  relations  which  are  instanced  or  exemplified 

cient  causation.       .  ITT  • 

in  them,  hold  precisely  the  same  relation  to  efficient  as  to 
final  causes.  The  most  complete  knowledge,  we  may  say  the  only  com- 
plete knowledge,  which  we  have  of  power  or  efficiency,  is  gained  through 
or  by  means  of  the  active  energy  of  our  own  spirits.  By  this,  we  in  a  cer- 
tain sense  image,  cf.  §597.  this  abstract  relation  whenever  we  have  occa- 
sion to  affirm  it  of  impersonal  or  material  agents.  In  doing  so  we  use  ex- 
amples, associations,  and  language  taken  from  our  personal  activity.  But 
w«  do  not  thereby  in  thought  attach  to  a  material  agent  the  properties  of 
personal  will,  such  as  usually  attend  the  exertion  of  spiritual  force  in  the 
direction  of  the  thoughts  and  movements  of  the  body. 

Still  less  is  it  true  that  we  affirm  this  relation  of  all  the  objects  in  the  universe,  because  we 
have  happened  to  have  experience  of  its  agency  in  our  own  spirits.  We  assume,  i.  e.,  intuitively 
affirm  it  as  necessary  to  a  rational  construction  of  the  universe.  In  the  same  way  we  assume 
that  an  adaptation  such  as  that  by  which  we  consciously  control  all  the  higher  activities  of  our 
nature  and  the  results  of  which  we  impress  upon  and  manifest  in  the  material  structures  which 
we  contrive,  holds  good  of  the  causal  arrangements  of  the  universe,  both  material  and  spiritual, 
and  is  employed  to  explain  its  constitution  and  its  phenomena. 

But  the  objection  itself  suggests  an  argument  in  defence  of  the  propriety  of 
phical  to  trans-  making  this  very  application  of  final  cause.  The  power  of  adapting  means  to 
Bciousnesi?  C0n"  ends  is  one  witn  waicn  we  ourselves  are  very  familiar  in  our  own  conscious  ex- 
perience. We  propose  ends.  We  devise  and  arrange,  i.  e.,  adapt  means  to 
bring  them  to  pass.  We  interpret  the  actions  of  others  by  supposing  that  they  are  directed 
by  such  intentions  and  adaptations.  We  interpret  the  results  of  their  actions  when  fixed  and 
made  permanent  in  structures  wrought  by  the  same  relation.  No  one  denies  that  the  relation 
exists  in  portions  of  the  universe,  i.  e  ,  in  the  activities  and  energies  of  the  human  soul  ;  or  that 
it  is  proper  to  apply  it  to  the  explication  of  those  creations  which  are  known  to  proceed  from 
the  human  intellect.  By  this  we  solve  or  explain  every  machine  which  is  submitted  to  our  in- 
spection. We  assume  that  every  thing  that  is  made  by  man  is  constructed  for  some  end.  When 
we  study  it,  we  do  not  merely  seek  to  understand  the  parts  of  which  it  is  composed  in  their 
capacities  and  laws  of  working,  but  we  seek  to  trace  out  the  ends  for  which  they  are  combined, 
and  the  various  adaptations  of  which  they  are  capable  ;  tracing  out  not  merely  their  capacity 
to  accomplish  certain  ends  in  a  certain  manner,  but  to  accomplish  desirable  ends  in  tht 
best  manner. 

The  relational     ^  *s  a  ^a*r  ar9umen^um  ad  hominem  to  say,  that  here  is  a 
questioned    known  asrent  or  power  in  the  universe  which  acts  in  a  oriven 

In  someapplica-  ,,.•,«  -^          -, 

tio-is.  way.     The  agency  is  spiritual,  which  first  proposes  ends  and 

then  adapts  forces  for  their  achievement.     It  is  certainly  possible  or  sup 


802  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §617 

posable  that  the  results  of  a  similar  agency  should  pervade  the  universej 
making  themselves  manifest  in  a  discoverable  adaptation.  To  assume  01 
employ  it  in  the  explanation  of  phenomena  is  not  unphilosophical. 

J.  S.  Mill  well  observes  in  his  Logic,  B.  III.  c.  xiv.  §  7 :  "  There  is  a  great  difference  between  inventing 
laws  of  nature  to  account  for  classes  of  phenomena  and  merely  endeavoring  in  conformity  with  known 
laws  to  conjecture  what  collocations,  now  gone  by,  may  have  given  birth  to  individual  facts  still  in  exist- 
ence. The  latter  is  the  strictly  legitimate  operation  of  inferring  from  an  observed  effect  the  existence  in 
time  past  of  a  cause  similar  to  that  by  which  we  know  it  to  be  produced  in  all  cases  in  which  we  have  had 
actual  experience  of  its  origin."  The  application  of  this  principle  to  our  line  of  nrgument  is  obvious. 
There  is  a  known  relation  resulting  from  a  well-known  kind  of  action.  It  prevails  by  the  concession  of 
all  on  a  limited  scale,  viz.,  as  far  as  the  effects  and  products  of  human  adaptation  are  found.  To  suppose 
the  presence  of  a  similar  relation  on  a  wider  settle  and  as  explaining  a  great  variety  of  phenomena,  ir. 
Bhort,  to  assume  that  it  is  one  of  the  two  great  relations  which  hold  good  of  the  universe,  is  by  this  crite- 
rion of  Mill  not  unphilosophical.  The  relation  is  known  to  exist,  just  as  that  of  causation  is  known  'A 
exist.  It  is  not  unphilosophical  to  assume  that  it  may  have  as  wide  an  application. 

(4.)  TWO  princi-    8  617.   (4.)  It  may  be  objected  still  further,  that  if  we  recog- 

pies    introduced      °.         _    x     '  .       .    .  .    A        _  .    t 

mto  philosophy    mze  final  cause  as  a  principle,  we  introduce  into  the  universe, 

Which  mav  pos-      .  ,..  .,    .  ,  ..,« 

sibiy  conflict.  tor  the  explication  of  its  phenomena,  two  principles,  of 
which  the  one  may  possibly  conflict  with  the  other.  In  so  doing  we 
weaken  Confidence  in  the  processes  and  axioms  of  pure  science,  and  in  the 
stability  of  the  laws  and  the  order  of  nature.  Science,  it  is  contended, 
must  assume  not  only  the  stability  but  the  supremacy  of  its  own  laws,  and 
it  can  neither  recognize  nor  respect  any  other. 

It  may  be  urged  in  reply  that  the  principle  of  final  cause,  is  so  far  from 
weakening  our  practical  confidence  in  the  stability  of  the  laws  of  nature 
or  disturbing  our  faith  in  the  axioms  of  science,  that  it  confirms  both. 
What  science  blindly  assumes,  this  rationally  accounts  for  and  makes  neces- 
sary. It  gives  a  reason  for  the  order  of  nature  and  the  principles  of 
knowledge,  and  the  only  reason  which  can  be  suggested,  viz.  the  adaptation 
of  such  order  to  the  uses  and  ends  of  the  human  intellect,  and  of  human 
science.  As  we  have  shown  already,  it  furnishes  the  only  solid  foundation 
for  the  assumptions  of  induction. 

But  it  will  still  be  objected ;  if  efficient  causes  and  physical 

Final    causes.  ,  _     ,  '          .  .-,-,•,  ni* 

claim  the  pre-  laws  are  to  acknowledge  themselves  indebted  to  final  causes 
that  they  may  command  our  confidence,  then  they  must  «dso 
confess  their  subjection  to  the  same,  and  be  ready  to  stand  aside  und 
be  suspended  whenever  the  principle  of  final  cause  shall  require.  In 
other  words,  the  order  of  nature  may  be  broken  whenever  the  principle 
of  final  cause  shall  require;  whenever  the  claims  of  the  so-called  reason  ol 
things,  or  of  alleged  moral  and  religious  interests  may  demand  an  inroad 
upon  its  regularity,  either  in  special  acts  of  creation  or  exertions  of  miracu- 
lous agency.  This  we  assent  to,  but,  we  find  no  reason  on  this  account 
to  reject  the  principle  or  its  asserted  supremacy,  but  an  additional  reason 
for  asserting  both.  If  the  principle  of  final  cause  will  not  only  render  the 
service  of  sustaining  our  confidence  in  the  stability  of  the  laws  of  nature 
in  all  ordinary  circumstances,  but  will  also  account  for  such  extraordinary 


§619.  DESIGN    OK   FINAL   CAUSE.  603 

deviations  from  this  order  as  may  be  required  in  the  history  of  man,  it 
deserves  for  this  double  service  to  be  esteemed  of  greater  value  and 
authority.  [Cf.  Locke,  Essay,  B.  iv.  c.  xvi.  §  13.] 

(5.)  rho  «carch    §  618-  (5-)  ^  ^s  objected  still  further,  that  the  search  after  final 

h^s  finhinCdS    causes  has  seriously  hindered  the  advancement  of  science,  by 

turning  aside  the  attention  and  interest  of  observers  from 

their  appropriate  duty,  which  is  the  investigation  and  determination  of 

efficient  causes  and  their  laws. 

Lord  Bacon,  it  is  said,  was  so  alive  to  its  evil  influence  as  to  utter  his  memorable  and  oft-repeated 
Caution  in  the  words  :  "  Causarum  finalium  inquisitio  sterilis  est  et  tanquam  virgo  Deo  consecrata  nihil 
parit."— De  Aug.  Scient.^  III.  4.  Descartes  was  still  more  strenuous  in  the  same  opinion,  as  appears  from 
these  assertions :  "  Totum  illud  causarum  genus  quod  a  fine  peti  solet  in  rebus  physicis  nullum  usum 
habere  existimo  ;  non  enim  absque  temeritate  me  puto  posse  investigare  fines  Dei." — JUed.,  iv.  20.  "  Ita 
denique  nullas  unquam  rationes  circa  res  naturales  a  fine  quam  Deus  aut  natura  in  iis  faciendis  sibi  pro- 
posuit  discemimus,  quia  non  tantum  non  debemus  nobis  arrogare  ut  ejus  consiliorum  nos  esse  participeg 
putemus." — Princ.  Phil.,  p.  I.  28. 

To  this  objection  we  reply  :  That  what  Bacon  intended  was  that  the  attention  of  the 

inquirer  should  not  be  diverted  from  the  investigation  of  efficient  causes  by  the  sug- 

'     gestion  of  ends  or  adaptations,  for  the  appropriate  sphere  of  the  interpreter  of  nature 

is  to  develop  agents  and  laws  that  are  unknown,  or  newly  to  confirm  and  exemplify 

those  already  established.    In  this  he  was  right.     A  more  complete  exhibition  of  the 

mutual  relations  of  the  two  would  have  required  him  to  assert  that  it  is  only  by  ascertaining  efficient  causes 

that  we  can  reach  final  causes,  inasmuch  as  we  assume  powers  and  laws  of  nature  as  the  means  by  which, 

and  the  conditions  under  which,  these  ends  are  to  be  attained.    The  more  we  know  of  the  variety  and 

reach  of  the  resources  of  nature,  the  wider  is  our  acquaintance  with  the  variety  of  her  ends,  the  skill  of 

the  mutual  adaptation  of  the  two,  and  the  economy  and  sagacity  of  her  workings.    That  Bacon  himsell 

believed  that  nature  is  penetrated  and  illumined  by  the  higher  relations  of  design  is  evident  from  thia 

among  similar  intimations :  "  I  had  rather  believe  all  the  fables  in  the  Legend  and  the  Talmud  and  the 

Alcoran,  than  thnt  this  universal  frame   is  without  a  mind."    *  *    "  For  while  the  mind  of  man  looketh 

upon  second  causes  scattered,  it  may  sometimes  rest  in  them  and  go  no  further ;  but  when  it  beholdeth 

the  chain  of  them,  confederate  and  linked  together,  it  must  needs  fly  to  Providence  and  the  Deity." — 

Essays,  xvi. 

When  Bacon  says  that  the  inquiry  after  final  causes  is  with- 
it  is  fruitful  of  „     .      ,  ,  ,  * ,,     .     ,          ,,  , 

scientific  pro-  out  fruit,  he  must  mean  '  practical  fruit,'  or  the  production  ot 
direct  advantage  to  the  interests  of  man.  It  is,  in  fact,  so  far 
from  being  barren,  as  to  be  most  fruitful  of  important  results  in  the  way 
of  discovery,  and  to  contribute  indirectly,  in  this  way,  to  the  extension  of 
man's  dominion  over  nature,  and  the  advancement  of  his  comfort  and  well- 
being.  We  haye  already  seen,  §610,  that  the  consideration  of  ends  may  be 
fruitful  in  the  suggestion  of  undiscovered  agencies  as  their  means,  and  in 
many  cases,  has  actually  been  a  most  important  agent  in  such  discovery.  It 
is  always  efficient  in  leading  to  the  prudens  qucestio,  the  sagacious  guess,  or 
the  ingenious  hypothesis,  which,  as  the  sacred  herald,  has  so  often  opened 
the  way  for  the  more  prosaic  and  practical  train  of  decisive  experiments. 
If  our  doctrine  is  correct,  that  the  methods  and  rules  of  induction  them- 
selves rest  upon  the  belief  in  design,  then  final  cause  is  so  far  from  being 
barren  that  she  deserves  to  be  honored  as  the  Alma  Mater  of  the  Induc- 
tive Philosophy  itself. 

(«.)  The  adap-    §  619.   (6.)  It  is  objected  again,  that  what  are  called  the  adap* 
arooniy°theacon!    tations  of  nature,  are  only  the  necessary  conditions  of  exist/ 

flit  ions  of  exis-  ,   .          , 

tence  ence  and  its  phenomena. 


604  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §619 

When,  for  example,  the  eye  is  said  to  be  adapted  to  the  light,  and  both 
to  the  production  of  vision,  this  says  the  objector,  is  only  another  phrase  fot 
saying  that  the  eye  as  we  find  it,  acting  with  the  light  as  we  find  it,  pro- 
duces the  pictures  upon  the  retina,  and  these  acting  with  the  intellect  and 
sentient  organism,  produce  the  sense-perceptions  which  we  call  vision. 
What  are  called  the  ends  of  nature,  to  which  her  forces  are  said  to  bo 
adapted,  are  simply  the  effects  of  which  these  forces  are  the  necessary 
and  actual  conditions,  which  we  transfer  in  thought  to  a  period  before 
the  activity  which  we  presume  they  were  fitted  and  arranged  to  accom 
plish.  The  fish,  we  say,  is  adapted  in  its  structure  and  its  instincts  to  the 
water,  and  the  water  was  prepared  with  relation  to  the  fish,  but  there 
could  be  no  fish  without  the  water,  for  without  this,  the  existence  and 
conception  of  the  fish  are  impossible. 

*  We  know  only  what  appears,  i.  e.,  what  is  made  manifest,  and  we  know  it  under  the  single 
relation  of  the  forces  which  cause  it  to  be.  This  is  the  only  relation  under  which  we  can  re- 
gard it.  As  to  whether  other  effects  might  or  might  not  have  been  produced  from  these  cause? 
in  different  conjunctions  and  intensities,  we  have  no  means  of  deciding.  Whether  other  effects 
may  not  be  produced  in  future  we  cannot  say.  All  that  we  know  is  what  has  been,  and  now  is, 
and  by  what  means.  These  have  been,  and  are,  and  occur  under  the  condition  of  these  very 
causes  and  laws.  To  say  that  these  conditions  are  also  adapted  to  these  effects  as  ends,  is  to 
superinduce  a  relation  which  is  not  required  for  the  explanation  of  the  facts.  The  interpreta- 
tion of  actual  effects  as  adapted  or  intended  or  as  ends  is  a  mere  fiction  of  the  imagination.' 

«« I  take  good  care,"  says  Geoff roy  St.  Hilaire,  "  not  to  ascribe  any  intention  to  God,  for  I  distrust  the 
feeble  powers  of  my  reason.  I  observe  facts  merely  and  go  no  farther.  I  only  pretend  to  the  character 
of  the  historian  of  what  is.  I  cannot  make  nature  an  intelligent  being  who  does  nothing  in  vain, 
who  acts  by  the  shortest  mode,  who  does  all  for  the  best." — Phil.  Zool.  p.  10.  To  the  same  purport  says 
Auguste  Gomte,  "  Si  les  philosophes  qui  de  nos  jours  tiennent  encore  a  la  doctrine  des  causes  finales  n'etau-nt 
point  ordinairement  depourvus  d'une  veritable  instruction  scientifique  un  peu  approfondie  ils  n'auraient 
pas  manque,"  etc. — Phil.  Pos.,  II.  38.  "  Toutes  fois  les  irrationels  partisans  des  causes  finales  s'eiforcaient 
vainement  d'appliquer  une  telle  consideration  a  la  justification  philosophique  de  leur  absurde  optimisme." 
—IV.  638. 

It  is  manifest  that  these  views  coincide  precisely  with  those  of  the  old  Epicureans,  who  conceived  the 
universe  with  its  living  beings  as  the  result  of  blind  forces,  in  respect  to  the  action  of  which  we  could  not 
Bay  what  might  yet  come  or  how  long  the  present  forces  might  continue. 

A  special  application  has  been  made  of  this  dictum  to  the  doctrine  of  the  nature  and  pro- 
duction of  species  in  animal  and  vegetable  life,  by  Dr.  Darwin,  in  his  work  on  the  Origin  of 
Species.  This  writer  teaches  that  the  so-called  species  in  nature  are  the  accidental,  but 
not  intended,  consequents  of  certain  combinations  which  gave  predominance  to  certain  con- 
spicuous attributes  or  properties,  which  were  again  strengthened  by  other  combinations  till 
they  were  fixed  into  permanent  races  by  the  conspiring  action  of  the  same  forces  under 
which  they  gradually  assumed  their  present  forms.  In  the  processes  of  animal  generation  and 
vegetable  growth  multitudes  of  other  possible  species  have  been  evolved,  but  the  laws  of  lif€ 
were  not  friendly  to  their  continuance,  or  to  the  development  and  action  of  their  peculiar  prop- 
erties, and  so  they  perished.  The  stronger  individuals  conquered  the  weaker,  and  thus,  under 
the  law  of  natural  selection,  the  forms  of  being  now  called  species,  both  animal  and  vegetable, 
exist  and  occupy  the  earth;  an  equilibrium  having  been  at  last  attained  after  an  indefinitely 
long  period  of  strife,  of  action  and  counteraction,  of  balancing  and  final  adjustment.  For  a 
statement  of  this  theory  in  earlier  times  see  Lucretius,  de  Nat.  rerum,  v.  837,  sqq.,  and  for  a 
reply,  Cicero,  de  Nat.  deor.  37. 


§621  DESIGN    OR   FINAL   CAUSE.  605 

Reply.  The  §  620.  In  reply  to  this  class  of  objections,  we  need  only  say 
not  derivedfrom  that  they  apply,  not  to  the  position  that  the  belief  in  final  cause 
is  a  first  principle,  but  to  the  doctrine  that  this  belief  is  derived 
from  observation  and  required  by  experience.  If  the  principle  is  intuitive 
and  d  priori  (in  the  sense  explained,  §  521),  we  bring  it  with  us  to  the  ex- 
planation of  the  facts.  We  do  not  derive  it  from  experience  by  an  dpo* 
steriori  method,  but  we  apply  it  to  experience  by  one  relatively  ti  priori. 
It  is  true,  if  facts  and  phenomena  were  inconsistent  with  the  principle,  we 
should  be  embarrassed  by  the  discrepancy  of  the  two.  But  no  incompati- 
bility is  urged,  but  only  that  final  causes  are  not  proved  by  experience.  It 
is  conceded  that  the  explanation  by  efficient  causes  is  not  inconsistent  with 
that  by  final  causes,  inasmuch  as  it  is  through  effects  actually  produced 
that  we  infer  they  were  intended  and  provided  for. 

Experience    But  we  take  issue  with  the  position  that  we  find  nothing 

gives    us    more  .  * 

than  the  condi-    more   than   the   conditions   of   existence,   as    we    come  to 

tion*  of  mere  ex-  . 

istence.  the  study  of  nature  with   the  expectation  that  we  shall  dis- 

cover special  examples  of  adaptation.  We  find  not  merely  the  conditions 
of  mere  existence  in  the  causes  of  effects  produced,  but  the  conditions 
of  well-being,  or  adaptations  to  a  highly  artificial,  elevated,  and  re- 
fined existence  and  enjoyment ;  and  these  in  forms  so  manifold  as  to  be 
entirely  consistent  with  the  a  priori  principle  which  we  bring  to  the  ex- 
planation of  the  facts.  The  proof  of  this  assertion  can  only  be  gathered 
from  the  study  of  individual  examples. 

The  most  striking  of  these  are  found  in  the  study  of  living  organisms.  We  discover  in  the 
eye  not  merely  the  conditions  of  sight,  but  of  perfect,  unembarrassed  vision,  as  in  the  dark  pig- 
ment with  which  the  inner  chamber  is  coated  to  prevent  the  disturbing  influence  of  reflected 
rays  upon  the  picture  within.  We  notice  also  the  closing  or  opening  of  the  iris  according 
to  the  intensity  of  the  stimulating  light,  as  it  contracts  and  withdraws  this  delicate  fringe  to 
suit  its  occasions.  We  observe  also  the  power  of  self-adjustment  with  which  the  retina 
itself  is  endowed  so  as  to  act  as  a  movable  screen  which  goes  back  and  forward  to  and  from 
the  lenses  that  refract  the  light,  and  the  more  wonderful  pliancy  with  which  the  form  of  each 
is  flattened  or  rounded  according  to  the  distance  of  the  object.  We  see  in  those  animals 
which  require  a  long  vertical  range  of  vision  and  in  those  which  require  a  range  that  is  hori- 
zontal a  corresponding  shape  of  the  pupil  and  opening  through  it.  We  find,  moreover,  in 
some  animals,  as  the  horse,  an  ingenious,  self-acting  arrangement  for  wiping  and  cleansing  the 
eye.  In  all  these  facts  we  find  not  merely  the  conditions  of  certain  forms  of  being,  but 
instances  of  adaptation  to  certain  forms  of  well-being. 

§  621.  (7.)  It  may  be  objected  again  :  that  adaptation  can  oniy 
te'MnrfteJto or-  be  traced  in  fact  in  a  limited  class  of  phenomena,  viz.,  those 

of  organized  existence,  whereas  were  it  a  first  truth  it  might 

be  discerned  in  all  kinds  of  being,  the  inorganic  as  truly  as  the  organic. 

It  is  sufficient  to  reply  that  examples  can  be  found  in  every  kind  of 

object-matter  as  will  be  shown  in  another  place.     They  ire  more  striking 


C06  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  623. 

withia  the  region  and  sphere  of  life,  indeed,  but  are  not  less  real  beyond 
that  sphere.  Besides,  this  axiom  is  the  foundation  on  which  rests  the 
structure  of  1he  inductive  method,  which  is  as  often  applied  to  inorganic 
as  to  organic  being  —  to  the  dispositions  and  relations  of  the  great 
masses  which  make  up  the  structure  of  the  universe  as  truly  as  to  the 
inner  relations  which  unite  the  parts  of  a  living  being.  This  makes 
necessary  its  application  to  every  kind  and  style  of  existence,  if  this  were 
the  only  ground. 
(8.)  We  are  not  §.  622.  (8.)  It  might  also  be  urged  that  we  cannot  trace  or 

warranted  in  af-      , 

firming  it  of  aii  interpret  adaptations  on  a  scale  sufficiently  extensive  to  war- 
eice.  rant  our  affirming  that  they  exist  throughout  the  whole  uni- 

verse of  being.  '  We  may,  indeed,  guess  at  them  within  a  limited  range  of 
observation,  but  we  cannot  actually  survey  the  vast  spaces  which  are  filled 
with  material  and  spiritual  life,  nor  can  we  ever  be  certain  that  we  have 
mastered  them  all  in  thought.  There  may  be  some  portion  of  this  universe 
which  design  does  not  control  and  where  adaptations  do  not  exist.  It  is 
presumptuous  to  assume  that  we  can  trace  the  adaptations  and  discover 
the  ends  of  the  entire  universe.' 

If  all  this  were  admitted,  the  facts  would  not  hold  against  the  prin- 
ciple that  ends  exist,  and  that  adaptations  to  them  regulate  all  the  things 
that  are.  It  is  for  the  principle  which  we  contend,  not  for  infallibility  in 
the  application  of  it  to  individual  cases. 

It  is  with  final  causes  in  this  respect  as  it  is  with  efficient  causes.  That 
both  exist,  and  both  control  the  universe  is  known  to  the  human  mind  by 
the  necessity  of  its  nature.  The  discovery  of  instances  and  examples  of  each 
is  accomplished  by  experience  and  induction.  Both  can  be  traced  by  ob- 
servation to  but  few  classes  of  objects,  and  within  that  portion  of  the  uni- 
verse only  which  comes  under  our  eye  or  ear,  or  the  report  of  our  fellow- 
men. 

But  one  can  be  traced  as  far  as  the  other.  What  is  connected  with  its  fellow  as  adapted  to 
an  end  under  this  relation,  is  an  efficient  agent  or  force.  If  we  can  trace  gravitation  as  far  as  the 
utmost  verge  of  material  being,  we  can  also  affirm  that  it  was  designed  to  hold  the  masses  in  their 
relative  positions  and  their  paths  of  motion.  The  principle  of  final  cause  moreover  is  absolutely 
required  to  warrant  the  extension  of  the  relations  of  efficient  causes  observed  within  a  limited 
sphere,  throughout  those  regions  of  which  observation  and  testimony  can  give  only  an  uncer- 
tain  and  incomplete  report. 

(9)  Adaptation  §  G2^-  (90  Last  of  all  it  may  be  said,  that  the  recognition 
cannot  be  affirm-  of  this  as  a  first  principle  would  require  us  to  ascribe  inten- 

ed  oi  an  unlim- 
ited Being,  tion    and    adaptation    to    an   unlimited    Being,    whereas   it 

supposes  certain  forces  or  powers  already  given  or  existing,  and  the 
problem  arises  how  to  dispose  of  these  so  as  to  attain  or  produce  the  de» 
signed  result.  Such  a  problem  can  never,  it  is  contended,  be  presented  to 
an  unlimited  Being,  who,  by  the  very  supposition,  is  not  shut  up  to  forces 
or  agencies  which  already  exist,  but  can  produce  effects  by  a  fiat  of  crea 


§  625.  DESIGN    OR  FINAL   CAUSE.  607 

tive  will.  Moreover,  the  supposition  would  introduce  into  such  a  mind 
an  order  *,fee  reverse  of  the  rational.  It  would  make  the  production  of 
agencies  go  before  the  disposition  of  them  to  an  end.  It  would  make 
blind  force  precede  wise  forecast. 

None  of  these  inferences  are  warranted.  Because  in  the  order  of  do- 
sign  thought  must  recognize  the  possible  adaptations  of  forces,  it  doea 
aot  follow  that  the  forces  must  exist  in  order  to  be  thought  of  as  existing, 
or  in  order  that  certain  adaptations  should  be  determined.  Both,  indeed, 
may  be  objects  of  design,  the  existence  of  the  forces  and  their  adapta- 
tions; or  rather,  the  existence  of  the  forces  because  of  their  adaptations  to 
accomplish  some  end  of  thought.  Even  the  human  mind,  impotent  as  it 
is  to  create,  sometimes  imagines  to  itself,  i.  e.,  creates  in  thought  some  new 
agent  in  t«he  world  of  matter  or  of  spirit,  and  revels  in  contriving  the 
variety  of  uses  to  which  it  might  make  it  subservient.  How  much  more 
readily  may  that  Being  whose  thoughts  can  in  any  instant  become  powers, 
.:a  \vs,  and  facts  ! 

principle  is  §  624<  ^nt  tne  most  instructive  view  which  we  can  take  of 
tn*s  Principle  ig  to  contemplate  the  variety  of  its  appli- 
cations.  Truths  purely  metaphysical,  especially  First  or 
Intuitional  Truths,  are  never  apprehended  in  actual  being  as  general  prop- 
ositions. They  can  only  be  discerned  in  the  concrete,  as  they  actually 
connect  individual  things  or  phenomena.  Thus,  we  cannot  discern  causation 
or  adaptation  as  universal  d,  priori;  we  only  discern  an  event  or 
oeing  as  causative  or  caused,  as  a  means  or  an  end.  When  we  appeal 
to  the  use  which  is  made  of  these  relations  in  the  sciences  as  proof  that 
they  are  fundamental  and  intuitive,  we  expect  to  find  that  these  sciences 
constantly  assume  these  relations  to  be  valid,  by  connecting  their  objects 
by  means  of  them.  The  constant  repetition  of  this  relation  and  the  im- 
portant uses  to  which  it  is  applied  add  incidental  strength  to  the  positive 
arguments  for  its  being  an  intuition  of  the  intellect. 

,.    ,  .      8  625.  1.   The  first  application  which  we  notice  is  that  which 

Is  ap  pli  ed  m     « 

metaphysical sci-    js  niade  bv  metaphvsical   science  itself.     We   have  already 

ence  itself.  J  •     J  .  .    .  .     J 

insisted  on  its  importance  in  sustaining  sundry  metaphysical 
axioms  of  Induction.  §487.  Upon  this  we  need  not  dwell. 

Its  application  in  the  formation  and  arrangement  of  those  general  con- 
ceptions which  are  at  once  the  materials  and  the  conditions  of  all  science, 
is  of  equal  consequence,  though  perhaps  not  equally  obvious. 

(«.)  The  principle  of  final  cause  regulates  the  formation  of  concepts. 

By  abstraction  or  analysis  we  separate  the  qualities  or  attributes  of  existing 
In  the  formation  beings,  and  by  synthesis  we  unite  them  so  as  to  form  concepts  representing 
of  concepts.  real  an(j  fictitious  objects.  We  define  these  concepts  by  enumerating  the  con 

stituent  elements  which  make  up  the  essence  of  each.  For  example,  chalk  aa 
a  concept,  is  defined  as  white,  with  a  certain  feel,  etc.,  etc.,  or,  scientifically  defined,  it  is  a 
carbonic  acid  united  with  lime.  The  formula  representing  any  concept  and  its  constituent* 


608  THE    HUMANT    INTELLECT.  §627 

isA  =  a4-b-J-c4-d,  etc.,  etc.  But  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  select  any  attributes  which 
analysis  gives  us  and  to  unite  them  into  any  complex  notion  which  they  might  form.  Some 
are  adapted  by  logical  compatibility  to  be  conjoined,  while  others  are  not  so  fitted.  If 
we  search  into  the  grounds  of  the  rules  or  axioms  which  regulate  this  logical  compati- 
bility we  shall  find  that  they  rest  upon  the  assumption  that  nature  has  designed  that 
things  or  beings  to  which  we  apply  our  concepts  should  permanently  continue,  giving  meaning 
to  the  law  of  identity  ;  that  they  should  be  distinguished,  giving  the  law  of  contradiction  ;  and 
that  they  should  be  generalized,  giving  the  law  of  the  excluded  middle.  Again  :  we  assume 
that  nature  has  fitted  these  objects  to  be  known  in  their  actual  relations.  This  leads  us  to 
infer  that  the  laws  of  thought  really  represent  the  relations  of  things. 

But  again  :  not  all  the  attributes  which  are  logically  compatible  are,  in  fact,  united  ifl 
concepts  by  any  earnest  thinker.  The  centaur,  the  mermaid,  the  hippogriff  are  logically  pos- 
sible, but  not  actually.  Why  ?  Because  the  properties  or  attributes  which  constitute  them 
are  not  adapted  to  exist  together  in  the  same  being,  and,  of  course,  except  for  the  service  of 
the  fancy,  are  never  combined.  The  mouth  of  man  could  not  receive  the  food  fitted  for  the 
stomach  of  the  horse,  and  the  body  of  a  man  could  not  be  carried  "  full  high  advanced  "  upon 
the  shoulders  and  body  of  the  same  animal.  There  is  something  in  these  properties,  or  in  what 
they  represent,  which  fits  them  to  coexist,  or  they  cannot  with  any  reason  be  combined  in  a  con- 
cept which  connects  the  rational  and  real  ;  which  represents  things  as  actual  or  possible,  or 
contemplates  them  as  ends  under  existing  powers  or  laws. 

in  the  system-    §  626.  (b.)  The  same  principle  must  be  assumed  in  the  ar- 

ization  of  con-  „  „ 

cepts.  rangement  ot  a  system  of  concepts  as  genera  and  species. 

It  is  evident,  that  as  we  might  make  as  many  concepts  as  the  varied  aggregations  of 
single  attributes  would  allow,  so  these  might  be  arranged  into  as  many  genera  and  species  as 
the  similar  rule  of  permutation  and  combination  would  permit.  Any  one  attribute  might  be 
taken  as  generic  without  regard  to  its  actual  extent  in  nature  ;  with  this  any  other  might  be 
combined  as  a  differentia  without  regard  to  the  compatibility  of  the  two  as  provided  by  the  adap- 
tations of  nature's  laws.  It  is  contended  by  some,  that  in  the  classifications  which  we  actually 
make,  we  are  guided  by  mere  convenience,  that  we  can  make  any  attribute  generic  which  we 
please,  provided  it  be  more  extensive  than  its  differentia  in  its  actual  prevalence,  but  that  there 
are  no  such  things  as  real  genera  and  species  ;  the  concepts  having  no  meaning  in  such  an 
application.  Now  if  we  assume  that  there  are  no  affinities  or  adaptations  in  properties  and  laws, 
no  ends  to  which  the  powers  of  nature  are  adapted,  and  which  are  designed  to  be  permanent, 
this  view  is  correct.  But  the  moment  we  assume  that  such  adaptations  exist,  and  that  they 
can  be  discovered,  as  well  as  the  ends  which  they  subserve,  then  the  belief  in  permanent  classes 
is  justified  and  explained.  Every  class  of  beings  which  are  grouped  by  relations  and  affinities 
that  involve  some  obvious  adaptations  of  a  permanent  character,  and  imply  obvious  ends  with 
respect  to  known  powers  and  forces,  or  even  with  respect  to  the  mind's  sense  of  order,  beauty, 
or  perfection,  is  pronounced  a  real  class,  as  distinguished  from  those  chance  and  fantastic 
groupings  which  indicate  neither. 

It  is  notorious,  that  in  the  lower  and  inorganic  structures,  the  physical  agencies  and  law* 
are  the  most  obvious,  while  in  the  regions  of  organic  existence,  the  higher  we  ascend,  we  dis- 
cern more  and  more  of  the  relations  of  adaptation.  This  explains  why  it  is  difficult  for  natu- 
ralists to  find  the  so-called  real  genera  and  species  in  the  mineral  kingdom  ;  why  it  is  more 
difficult  to  determine  the  species  of  plants  than  the  species  of  animals,  and  why  among  animali 
the  species  of  the  higher  are  more  easily  determined  than  are  those  of  the  lower. 


in  the  definition    §  62^  (&)  T^8  relation  ie  essential  to  an  intelligible  coneep 
of  an  individual.    ftou  an(j  definition  Of  an  individual. 


§  029.  DESIGN   OR  FINAL   CAUSE.  609 

The  term  individual  can  scarcely  be  defined  by  physical  or  mathematical  relations 
alone.  One  individual  atom  may,  indeed,  be  distinguished  from  another  by  the  place  it  occu- 
pies at  any  moment  of  time,  by  the  forces  it  exerts,  and  the  laws  which  it  obeys.  But  another 
atom,  occupying  the  same  space  at  the  same  time,  exerting  the  same  force,  and  obeying  the 
same  laws,  could,  so  far  as  every  one  of  these  properties  are  concerned,  be  substituted  for 
this.  Any  one  of  the  myriads  of  millions  of  molecules  might  take  the  place  of  any  other. 
But  if  each  is  considered  as  having  some  destiny  to  fulfil,  some  end  to  which  it  is  adapted, 
that  end  defines  its  individuality.  It  may  not  be  necessary  to  assert  that  each  separate  atom 
is  unlike  every  other,  and  so  is  a  distinct  monad;  according  to  the  doctrine  of  Leibnitz  that 
no  tsvu  monads  can  bo  exactly  alike.  It  may  be  sufficient  to  hold,  that  no  otner  can  take  its 
place  in  connection  with  every  other  without  defeating  the  ends  of  creation,  for  then  each 
atom  attains  relations  which  distinguish  it  as  a  separate  individual.  Much  more  does  every 
mass  of  inorganic  matter,  whether  it  is  piled  into  a  heap,  concreted  into  a  rock,  or  poured 
forth  as  water.  Still  more  strikingly  does  every  crystal,  by  seeming  to  strive  towards  a  special 
form  establish  itself  as  an  individual.  In  a  higher  sense  is  every  plant  an  individual,  as  it 
gathers  in  from  the  earth,  the  air,  and  water,  all  which  it  requires  for  the  end  for  which  it 
strives  in  growth,  development,  and  reproduction.  The  animal  is  seen  to  be  an  individual  more 
emphatically,  as  it  is  furnished  with  instincts  that  prompt  it  to  those  activities  which  have  for 
their  end  its  preservation  and  well-being,  as  well  as  that  intelligent  capacity,  which  in  many 
species,  as  the  fox,  the  dog,  the  rat,  and  the  elephant,  recognizes  the  fitness  of  certain  actions 
to  a  desired  purpose.  Man  is  an  individual  in  the  highest  sense,  because  he  can  distinctly 
propose  to  himself  the  end  of  his  being  and  actions  through  the  prudence  which  looks  out 
for  private  good  and  the  morality  which  finds  its  life  by  losing  it  in  disinterested  love ;  by  the 
science  which  interprets  the  universe  in  its  laws  and  adaptations;  and  in  that  religion  that 
mirrors  the  glory  of  the  Creator  whom  he  worships. 

§  628.    (d.)  The  principle  is  of  the  greatest  value  as  a  crite- 

Ag  a  criterion  of  _N  L  _  °  __  .          .    . 

truth  and  a  rule  rion  of  truth  and  a  rule  of  certitude.  When  skepticism 
suggests  that  every  principle  may  be  questioned,  and  every 
observation  of  fact  maybe  mistaken ;  that  the  objective  creation  may  be  a 
shifting  phantasmagoria,  and  the  subjective  mind  but  a  lying  glass  of 
opinion;  then  the  thought  of  the  inconceivable  non-adaptation  of  such  a 
universe  to  any  rational  end  even  of  knowledge,  restores  our  confidence 
in  the  testimony  of  the  senses,  the  experiences  of  consciousness,  and  the 
inductions  of  reason.  We  try  all  these  by  one  another,  and  by  the  tests 
which  experience  and  science  have  discovered,  but  we  trust  them  at  last, 
when  they  conspire  to  ends  that  are  worthy  of  rational  order  in  a  universe 
adapted  to  be  known  by  a  being  who  is  manifestly  designed  to  know,  and 
to  confide  in  his  knowledge  when  properly  tried  and  proved. 
Applied  in  geo-  §  629-  2-  In  tbe  Mathematics  even,  the  presence  of  this  re- 
SruSon  Tnd  lation  is  often  recognized. 

deduction.  jn  pure  geometry  it  may  be  applied  more  frequently  than 

would  be  anticipated.  The  circle  is  adapted  to  prove  a  great  variety  of 
theorems,  and  to  solve  many  problems,  as  is  manifest  in  any  treatise  c« 
geometry.  If  we  are  required  to  construct  two  triangles  on  the  same 
base,  the  angles  of  which  at  the  apex  of  each  shall  be  right  angles,  it  can 
readily  be  done  by  describing  a  half-circle  on  this  line  as  a  diameter,  and 
any  number  of  triangles  can  at  once  be  drawn  so  as  to  fulfil  the  required 
39 


610  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §630 

conditions.  We  discern  in  a  portion  of  space  bounded  by  a  half-circ^ 
the  capacity  or  adaptation,  that  waited  long  to  be  discerned ;  i.  e.  the 
means  adapted  to  an  important  end. 

In  a  similar  way,  by  a  skilful  construction  of  squares,  parallelograms,  and  triangles,  it 
may  be  demonstrated  that  the  squares  on  the  legs  of  a  right-angled  triangle  are  equal  to  th<? 
square  upon  its  hypothenuse.  Indeed,  the  number  of  these  possible  adaptations  in  the  vaii« 
ous  figures  which  may  be  constructed  in  space  to  solve  and  prove  problems  and  theorems,  ia 
well-nigh  incompudble,  as  is  manifest  from  the  constant  progress  of  geometrical  science.  The 
invention  of  the  geometer  is  constantly  tasked  in  efforts  to  hit  upon  the  requisite  construc- 
tions, and  to  draw  the  auxiliary  lines  which  are  needed  to  enable  him  to  reach  the  end  which  ha 
proposes.  The  relations  of  pure  number  open  as  wide  a  field  of  inherent  fitnesses  to  serve  the 
ends  of  the  student.  It  is  upon  the  faith  that  additional  adaptations  remain  to  be  discovered, 
that  the  mathematician  prosecutes  his  inventive  work  of  discovery. 

The  adaptations  of  the  mathematics  to  the  service  of  physics  are  if  possible 
In  applied  geo-  s^  m°re  striking.  No  projectile  was  ever  thrown  in  an  exact  parabola 
metry.  but  the  theory  of  this  curve  is  adapted  to  explain  the  direction  and  motion 

of  every  body  that  is  launched  into  the  atmosphere.  The  theory  of  the  lines 
in  which  bodies  tend  to  move,  and  the  rates  in  which  bodies,  when  impelled,  move  in  fact,  ig 
adapted  to  regulate  the  mechanics  of  bodies  as  they  fall  to  the  earth,  and  the  motions  of  the 
orbs  which  revolve  in  the  heavens.  It  also  explains  the  phenomena  of  the  pressure  of  fluids. 
The  relations  of  number  solve  the  mystery  of  chemical  combinations,  and  explain  the  sym- 
metry of  agreeable  forms  and  the  harmony  of  musical  sounds.  They  enable  us  to  discern  a 
common  law  in  the  arrangement  of  the  leaves  upon  the  stem  of  every  tree,  and  in  the  placing 
of  the  planets  along  the  lines  which  stretch  out  from  the  sun. 

On  the  first  thought,  it  would  seem  that  in  extension  and 
number  it  would  be  imposible  to  find  so  great  a  variety  of 
possible  adaptations.     But  on  reflection,  we  find  that  their 
capacity  of  multiform  application  is  the  only  key  to  the  perfection  of  the 
sciences  of  matter  and  the  reduction  of  its  forces  to  unvarying  laws. 

We  have  urged  that  the  belief  in  final  cause  must  be  intuitive,  because 
we  could  not  otherwise  confide  in  the  axioms  of  induction.  But  we  see 
in  the  provision  for  the  possibility  of  mathematical  science,  and  of  its  uni- 
versal application  to  material  phenomena  as  the  indispensable  condition 
of  their  laws,  another  example  of  design  where  we  had  least  expected  its 
manifestation,  viz.  in  those  time  and  space  relations  which  render  tne 
mathematics  possible. 

Applied  in  geoi-  §  63°-  3-  Geology  and  Paleontology  both  assume  the  truth 
ogyi  etc.  an(j  applicability  of  the  principle  of  final  cause. 

Geology  was  at  first  content  to  explain  the  formation  of  the  crust  of  the  globe  by  analyzing 
its  parts  into  their  constituent  elements,  and  recording  the  order  in  which  the  rocks  had  been 
compacted  and  broken  down,  and  the  strata  had  been  formed  and  deposited.  In  these  investi- 
gations it  proceeded  as  a  science  of  observation,  watching  and  recording  the  operations  of  the 
forces  of  nature  according  to  laws  already  ascertained. 

But,  aided  by  paleontology,  geology  has  proposed  to  itself  a  higher  problem,  and  con- 
templated facts  under  more  elevated  relations.  It  has  traced  a  plan  and  order  of  development 
testing  on  the  assumption  of  a  series  of  ends  subordinated  to  one  another,  and  terminating  in 


§632  DESIGN   OB  FINAL   CAUSE.  Gil 

a  habitation  equally  adapted  to  man's  higher  and  lower  nature.  It  has  ventured  to  recall  the 
successive  phases  of  organic  life  by  reproducing  extinct  species  of  plants  and  animals  amid  the 
lakes,  marshes  and  jungles  in  which  they  sported  and  from  which  they  subsisted,  and  to  ar- 
range these  phases  in  the  order  of  time  and  of  a  more  and  more  perfect  development.  The 
assumption  which  directed  these  bold  essaj's  and  enabled  the  observer  successfully  to  apply 
the  hints  furnished  by  the  facts  supplied,  is,  that  an  order  of  fitness  and  progress  has  been  fol 
lowed  from  the  first,  that  each  epoch  has  prepared  the  way  for  the  next  succeeding ;  theadapta 
tions  of  each  being  complete  in  animals,  plants,  and  scenery.  Following  the  same  clue, 
this  science  has  found  in  each  previous  epoch  not  merely  the  materials  of  the  one  which  suc- 
ceeded, but  that  each  represents  a  less  perfect  form  of  life  than  that  which  follows  it.  This 
series  •  terminates  with  man,  who  represents  the  highest  type  of  life  and  shows  that  he  is  the 
end  for  which  all  others  are  designed,  by  the  fact  that  he  alone  can  comprehend  the  im- 
port of  the  plan  and  recognize  the  relations  of  the  parts  to  the  whole  and  of  the  whole  to 
himself. 

It  is  by  the  iDtuitive  belief  that  adaptation  rules  the  universe, 
ancl  tne  expectation  that  its  special  relations  may  be  dis- 
covered, that  geology  has  reared  its  imposing  structures,  with 
the  aid  of  here  and  there  a  fossil — structures  which  could  never  have  been 
reared  except  for  this  foundation  to  support  and  give  order  to  these  mate- 
rials  of  fact  and  experience, — without  which  assumption  they  would  de* 
serve  to  be  viewed  as  a  day-dream,  or  a  series  of  brilliant  scenes  from 
fairy-land.  Geology,  by  the  very  aims  which  it  proposes,  and  the  splendid 
results  which  it  has  achieved,  gives  its  tacit  yet  fervent  assent  to  the 
original  authority  of  the  intuition  of  final  cause. 

§631.  4.  Philosophical  Geography  gives  a  similar  testimony.     This  science,  as 

Applied  in  phil-     conceived  and  perfected  by  Hitter,  takes  the  earth  where  geology  leaves  it, 
osophical  geog- 
raphy and  shows  how  each  continent  and  country  was  fitted  for  the  part  which  it  has 

played  in  the  world's  history,  by  its  structure,  surface,  soil,  and  climate,  by  its 
mountain-barriers  to  repel,  and  its  coasts  and  harbors  to  invite,  by  its  river-systems  to 
bind  remoter  portions,  or  its  insular  situation  to  make  defence  easy.  It  shows  that  every  part 
of  the  earth  was  not  only  adapted  from  the  first  to  receive  and  develop  the  race  which  was 
allotted  to  it,  and  to  become'  the  scene  of  the  events  which  have  made  it  memorable,  but  to 
transmit  the  results  of  these  achievements  to  neighboring  countries  and  other  races,  and 
even  to  transfer  them  to  remote  parts  of  the  earth  and  a  later  and  better  civilization.  By 
referring  intellectual  and  moral  influences  to  favoring  physical  conditions,  it  enables  us 
to  find  an  adaptation  to  important  moral  results,  even  in  the  material  arrangements  of  the 
earth. 

§  632.  5.  Comparative  Anatomy  rests  upon  the  same  intuition.  It  would  have 
Adapted  to  com-  no  meaning,  as  it  could  have  no  truth  without  it.  It  is  a  science  of  similar 
my.  adaptations,  not  only  of  organs  to  functions,  but  of  analogies,  of  form  and 

feature  and  inner  structure  to  the  completeness  of  a  progressive  plan,  and 
even  to  the  achievement  of  an  aesthetic  effect  and  the  expression  of  an  aesthetic  import.  It  con- 
nects the  fin  of  the  fish,  the  arm  of  the  man,  and  the  wiug  of  the  bird,  not  merely  by  theit 
adaptations  to  similar  uses,  but  by  the  similar  relations  which  they  hold  to  the  skeleton  or 
frame,  regarded  as  framed  after  an  ideal  type.  It  arranges  all  living  beings  in  order,  as  each 
\s  adapted  to  a  place  in  the  series  or  system,  by  the  greater  or  less  perfection  of  its  structure 
or  development.  It  discovers  that  man  himself  goes  through  each  step  in  the  series,  ana 
represents  in  his  progress  the  history  and  order  of  that  whole  which  he  both  crowns  and 


612  THE    HUMAN     INTELLECT.  §633. 

completes,  and  in  which,  with  reflective  interpretation,  he  himself  reads  the  arranges  ents  of  a 
rational  Artist. 

Give  this  science  a  bone,  and  it  will  draw  or  model  the  animal,  tell  you  how  large  he  was, 
how  formed,  on  what  he  lived,  what  were  his  habits  and  disposition,  what  the  length  of  hia 
life, —  and  all  because  it  reads  the  adaptations  that  gather  and  cluster  around  this  fragment 
of  the  skeleton,  which  except  as  thus  interpreted  were  only  a  broken  and  abraded  fossil. 

Applied  to  phy-  §  633-  6-  In  Physiology,  special  and  general,  similar  relations 
i structure  are  more  numerous  and  manifest.  The  departments  of  ani- 
ma]  an(j  vegetabie  iife  abound,  or  rather  overflow  with  ex- 
amples of  fitness  and  adjustment.  The  nicer  the  analysis  of  elements 
and  of  organs,  and  the  more  subtle  the  detection  of  offices  and  func- 
tions, so  much  the  more  exquisite  are  the  discerned  relations  of  adaptation 
of  each  to  each.  Not  only  is  there  seen  a  fitness  of  one  organ  to  another, 
as  of  the  lungs  to  the  heart,  and  to  the  common  end  of  all,  but  there  is  a 
fitness  of  every  organ  to  the  element  in  and  by  which  it  acts,  as  of  the 
lungs  to  the  air  and  of  the  eye  to  the  light.  The  more  we  learn  of  the 
structure  of  the  one  and  of  the  properties  of  the  other,  the  nicer  are  the 
adaptations  which  we  discern  between  the  two. 

The  adaptations  of  the  organs  to  the  disposition  and  destinv  of  the  animal,  are, 
I  nits  adaptation 
to  the  disposition    if  possible,  still  more  interesting.     In  this  case,  the  end  to  which  the  structure 

the1  animal"8  °f    of  tne  bodily  organs  is  adjusted,  is  as  yet  non-existent,  and  the  uses  to  which  it. 

is  to  be  applied  are  not  apparent  till  the  animal  has  passed  several  stages  of 
development,  and  perhaps  has  assumed  two  or  three  lower  forms  of  being.  If  we  examine  the 
eye  of  the  hawk,  the  owl,  the  cat,  and  the  mole,  we  find  that  in  them  all,  the  form  of  the  pupil, 
the  capacity  for  contraction  and  enlargement,  the  length  and  the  range  of  vision,  as  well  as  the 
power  of  the  optic  nerve,  are  ah1  specially  adjusted  with  reference  to  the  prey  which  each  is  des* 
:ined  to  seek,  and  to  the  methods  and  facilities  by  which  it  must  secure  it.  These  again  are 
adapted  to  the  impulses  and  dispositions  of  the  animals,  so  far  as  these  prompt  them  to  the 
special  acts  to  which  the  eyes  are  adjusted.  Some  animals  exist  in  two  or  three  forms  of  being, 
as  the  caterpillar,  the  chrysalis,  and  the  butterfly ;  and  it  is  noticed  that  with  the  sphere  of 
existence  belonging  to  each,  there  is  a  similar  adaptation  of  every  part  of  the  inmost  structure 
to  the  still  more  ulterior  disposition  and  instincts.  So  that  in  the  being  who  begins  to  be,  there 
are  present  not  merely  existing  endowments  fitted  to  one  another  and  the  sphere  of  their  ac- 
tivity, but  undeveloped  capacities  in  the  same  variety  and  completeness,  of  their  fitness  to  a 
sphere  and  to  functions  as  yet  undeveloped  and  not  even  conjectured  by  man. 

In  the  animal  frame  there  is  protection  against  the  injury  of  any  portion 
I  n  protection  to  which  the  structure  or  habits  of  life  open  any  special  exposure.  Thus  the 

brain  is  defended  by  the  thickness  and  form  of  the  skull,  from  violent  blows, 

and  from  jar  or  concussion  by  a  series  of  elastic  cartilages  ; — thus  also  the  sub- 
itance  of  several  organs  is  specially  insensible  because  exposed  to  specially  trying  usage.  The 
animals  who  are  destined  to  fight  and  to  live  in  special  danger,  are  furnished  not  only  with 
weapons  of  attack,  but  with  an  armor  of  defence,  or  if  armor  is  not  provided  them,  swiftness 
and  dexterity  are  supplied  in  its  place. 

The  adaptations  of  the  frame  of  man  to  the  functions  and  uses  of  the 
rational  soul,  are  still  more  striking ;  but  we  here  approach,  if  we  do  not 
cross,  the  line  which  divides  physiology  from  Anthropology. 


DESIGN   OR  FIN^L   CAUSE.  61& 

§634.  7.  In  Anthropology  we  trace  these  higher  adaptations, 
tropology.  ai  The  human  hand  does  not  differ  more  strikingly  from  the 

hand  of  the  monkey  than  the  mind  of  the  monkey  from  the 
mind  of  man.  The  mind  of  man  has  endeavored  to  discover  and  combine 
the  powers  of  nature,  and  to  devise  the  appliances  of  art.  Whatever 
che  mind  has  prompted  the  hand  to  construct,  the  hand  has  been  able 
to  frame,  either  through  the  seemingly  exhaustless  versatility  of  its  flexible 
organism,  or  by  the  tools  and  machinery  with  which  it  has  contrived  to 
supplement  its  powers.  So  wonderful  has  been  this  service,  that  it  has  been 
questioned,  whether  the  human  intellect  or  the  human  hand  has  been  the 
most  conspicuous  in  shaping  human  destiny  and  in  developing  human  his- 
tory. The  hand  has  also  by  the  economy  of  nature  been  fitted  to  be  the 
medium  of  conveying  varied  intellectual  and  emotional  expression  to  the 
intellect  and  heart,  which  have  been  as  mysteriously  fitted  to  receive  and 
nterpret  its  indications.  The  hand  invites  and  repels,  commands  and 
forbids,  soothes  and  enrages.  It  appeases  with  its  gentle  waving,  and 
smites  with  ferocious  energy.  It  adores  with  the  uplifted  arm,  it 
blesses  with  the  outspread  palm  ;  it  blasphemes  with  aimless  and  impotent 
motions,  and  curses  with  its  downward  stroke. 

But  there  is  no  adaptation  of  the  mind  and  body  that  gives  to  both  united  an 
I.i  the  provisions     . 
for  and  the  oa-    interest  which  at  once  so  fascinates  and  baffles  our  prying  scrutiny,  as  that 

guageT*  exhibited  in  the  agency  of  both  in  the  production,  use,  and  development 

of  language.  There  are  two  conditions  of  language,  the  bodily  and  the  mental. 
The  bodily  are  also  two,  the  mouth  and  the  ear,  to  which  the  hand  and  the  eye  are  accessory.  If 
the  vocal  organs  are  imperfect  or  lamed,  there  can  be  no  speech.  If  the  ear  is  closed  or  disabled, 
the  speech  cannot  be  received,  and  there  can  be  no  language.  But  the  mind  must  also  furnish 
its  material  through  its  required  capacities  and  development.  Language  is  impossible  until 
the  mind  observes  and  generalizes  and  affirms.  In  other  words,  the  mind  must  first  think  the 
material  and  spiritual  universe  with  which  it  comes  in  contact  into  the  thought-world  which  its 
powers  and  laws  fit  it  to  create,  before  it  can  give  to  it  expression  by  language.  There  must 
also  be  awakened  the  impulse  to  speak,  and  with  it  there  must  be  called  into  action  the  capacity 
:o  speak.  Man  does  not  invent  language  under  the  strong  desire  to  communicate,  any  more 
than  he  invents  walking  under  the  desire  to  go  from  one  place  to  another.  He  finds  himself 
walking  under  an  adaptation  of  his  limbs  which  is  manifested  by  their  actual  use,  which  use  is 
also  perfected  and  trained.  In  the  same  way  he  finds  himself  talking,  i.  e.,  using  bodily 
sounds  to  express  and  impart  thoughts  and  feelings,  under  an  impulse  and  by  an  adaptation  of  th& 
body  to  the  soul  which  is  more  striking.  This  adaptation  of  the  vocal  and  the  spiritual  to  each 
other,  and  of  the  possible  elaboration  of  the  one  to  the  possible  refinement  of  the  other,  quite 
go  beyond  the  observed  fitness  of  the  eye  to  the  light,  or  of  the  ear  to  the  agent  of  sound.  The 
materials  adjusted  to  one  another  are  in  their  nature  most  diverse,  being  parted  by  the  wide 
chasm  which  seems  to  divide  matter  and  spirit ;  and  yet  hi  the  functions  of  matter  as  organize^ 
for  speech,  there  are  dormant  capacities  for  the  service  of  the  as  yet  undeveloped  attainments 
of  spirit.  These  relations  do  not  exhaust  all  the  adaptations  which  are  brought  to  light  by  the 
unfolding  of  language.  Not  only  are  these  two  parts  of  the  complex  body  and  soul  fitted  to 
expand  side  by  side  with  one  another,  but  the  expression  of  thought  in  language  reacts  with 
wondrous  energy  on  the  development  and  refinement  of  thought  itself,  so  that  it  is  not  only  true 
*at  the  developed  thought  finds  itself  able  to  employ  language  in  its  service,  but  it  is  also  tru«  < 


614  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §635. 

that  the  thought  in  order  to  be  developed,  must  express  itself  in  langnage.  Man  not  only 
speaks  because  he  thinks,  but  he  speaks  that  he  may  think,  i.  e.,  think  with  clearness,  preci- 
sion and  progress.  The  two  are  not  merely  so  adapted  that  the  one  can  expand  side  by  side 
with  the  other,  but  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  is  the  most  dependent  on  the  other. 

There  is  another  class  of  adaptations  which  here  present  themselves.     Man  is 

Relations  of  !»"•     ^ed  for  society,  and  in  society  only  finds  his  natural  sphere.     But  'society  is 

guage  to  waetjr.    possible  only  through  language.     The  complicated  and  refined  adjustments  of 

matter  and  spirit  which  find  their  proximate  end  in  language,  reach  still  further 

in  their  remoter  adaptations  to  man's  social  existence  and  well-being. 

The  celebrated  Galen  says,  in  his  treatise  concerning  the  human  body,  that  by  the  variety  and 
accordant  action  of  its  adjustments,  it  seems  to  utter  an  anthem  of  praise  to  its  maker.  But 
the  philosopher  who  reflects  on  the  mystery  of  human  language,  in  the  subtlety  of  the  ele- 
ments involved,  the  variety  of  the  conjunctions,  the  delicacy  of  the  structure,  and  its  capacity 
for  growth  and  development ;  especially  if  he  watches  the  feeble  beginnings  of  such  splendid 
promise  in  the  lispings  of  infancy,  would  find  a  new  meaning  in  the  familiar  words  "  Out  of  the 
mouth  of  babes  and  sucklings  thou  hast  perfected  praise." 

§  635.  8.  In  Psychology  the  occasions  for  final  cause  are 
^ychofogy*  *  '  more  frequent  and  pressing  than  in  either  physiology  or 

anthropology.  The  human  soul  is  one,  and  hence  in 
certain  aspects  and  relations  it  must  be  viewed  as  a  single  force.  But  its 
modes  of  action  are  various,  as  are  also  the  conditions  of  its  activity,  giv- 
ing products  that  are  distinguished  in  consciousness.  They  are  also  dis- 
cerned as  similar  in  their  properties,  in  the  occasions  of  their  production 
and  the  laws  of  their  activity.  In  this  way,  we  apply  the  relation  of 
efficient  causation  to  explain  the  phenomena  and  faculties  of  the  soul. 

But  it  is  often  difficult  for  consciousness  to  analvze  the  oper- 

Of  special  impor-          .  _,  _.  ,  ,         ., 

tance  in  this  sci-  ations  and  products  that  are  so  closely  entwined  in  our  ex- 
perience, and  to  trace  each  product  back  to  the  separate  germ 
from  which  it  springs  into  life.  The  adaptations  of  these  operations  and 
products  to  one  another,  and  to  the  manifest  ends  of  the  soul's  culture  and 
well-being  are,  however,  often  so  obvious  and  remarkable,  that  they  fre- 
quently settle  questions  that  would  otherwise  remain  unsolved.  For  exam- 
ple, in  considering  the  acquired  perceptions,  it  is  noticed  that  animals 
possess  from  the  beginning,  a  capacity  of  judging  of  distance  and  size 
which  man  is  forced  to  acquire  by  slow  and  painful  effort.  It  is  ques- 
tioned whether  our  observations  in  respect  to  this  point  can  be  trusted, 
whether  there  is  not  some  error  or  oversight  in  the  analysis  of  the  phe- 
nomena. The  consideration  of  the  end  to  be  accomplished  by  this  ap- 
parently abnormal  arrangement  relieves  the  difficulty.  Man,  we  observe, 
needs  the  discipline  required  by  the  slow  process  of  acquiring  what  the 
animal  knows  (after  the  animal  fashion  of  knowing)  at  the  beginning. 
The  consideration  of  adaptation  removes  the  similar  difficulties  sug- 
gested by  the  question,  '  why  the  range  of  instinct  is  so  much  wider 
and  more  unerring  in  the  lower  animals  than  it  is  in  man,  the  highest  of 
all?'  We  assent  to  the  truth,  that  the  destiny  and  ends  of  the  two 


§  636.  DESIGN   OK  FINAL   CAUSE.  615 

are  so  diverse  that  we  may  reasonably  accept  the  evidence  which  obser 
vation  furnishes. 

We  notice  that  the  powers  of  observation,  the  so-called  objective  powers,  ar« 
Exgain^the  dif-  developed  at  a  period  and  with  an  energy  and  effect  which  are  strikingly  con- 
development,  trasted  with  the  slow  and  feeble  unfolding  of  the  rational  and  reflective.  How 

this  should  be,  we  cannot  so  easily  answer ;  i.  e.,  according  to  what  law  of 
efficient  causation.  There  is  no  antecedent  necessity  in  any  power  or  law  of  nature  or  spirit, 
that  requires  such  an  order  of  development.  But  10%,  or  for  what  end  it  is  so,  can  be  under- 
stood if  we  consider  the  purposes  that  are  to  be  accomplished  by  furnishing  the  intellect 
largely  with  materials  before  it  is  called  to  elaborate  them,  and  by  letting  loose  the  soul  in  the 
freedom  of  spontaneous  activity  before  it  is  schooled  to  the  painful  processes  of  reflective 
thought.  The  ends  accomplished  are  not  intellectual  only.  Those  which  respect  man's  social 
condition  and  his  emotional  and  moral  culture,  should  also  be  considered,  and  these  are  ever 
forcing  themselves  upon  our  attention. 

Explains  why  -^ove  all,  psychology  acquaints  us  with  the  rational  faculty 
the"  rational  fa  -  as  that  pre-eminent  power  which  proposes  ends  and  devises 
means  for  their  accomplishment.  It  acknowledges  that  this 
is  the  highest  of  the  intellectual  powers,  that  it  is  lawfully  supreme,  that 
in  the  service  of  this  power  we  investigate  causes  and  determine  laws  in 
order  that  we  may  attain  some  end  or  direct  the  result  to  some  noble  or 
useful  application.  In  the  subjection  and  adaptation  of  the  lower  to  this 
highest  power  it  finds  confirmation  of  the  propriety  of  assuming  the 
relation  of  adaptation  in  all  our  interpretations  of  nature.  If  "on  the 
earth  there  is  nothing  great  but  man,  and  in  man,  there  is  nothing  great 
but  mind,"  it  is  emphatically  true  that  in  the  mind  there  is  nothing  great 
but  the  reason  which  proposes  and  discovers  ends,  and  is  itself  an  end 
to  the  lower  actings  of  the  intellect. 

§  636.  (9.)  Ethics,  the  science  of  duty,  which  is  so  closely 
allied  to,  if  it  is  not  a  department  of  psychology,  is  founded 
entirely  upon  the  intuition  in  question.  Indeed,  that  ethics 
should  be  made  a  science,  it  is  necessary  to  assume  that  the  relation  of 
adaptation  is  intuitively  known.  Its  subject  matter  is  derived  from  the 
ends  of  human  existence  and  human  activity.  The  comprehensive  and 
fundamental  question  which  it  asks,  is,  for  what  kind  of  action  is  the  hu- 
man soul  adapted  by  its  constitution,  and  what  must  man  be  and  do  to 
fulfil  this  end  ?  Whatever  be  the  language  in  which  this  question  is 
phrased,  and  whatever  the  answer  which  it  receives,  it  rests  on  the  single 
assumption  that  man  is  fitted  for  one  kind  of  action  rather  than  for  another, 
and  that  the  action  for  which  he  is  fitted  is  right,  while  the  action  for 
which  he  is  not  fitted  is  wrong.  It  asks,  how  shall  these  adaptations  be 
discerned  ?  By  what  faculty  or  capacity,  one  or  more,  are  they  discerned 
and  responded  to  ?  What  are  the  tests  or  criteria  by  which  they  are  dis- 
tinguished ?  What  external  actions  or  duties  must  we  perform  in  order 
most  effectually  to  fulfil  these  ends  ? 

Corresponding  to  the  power  of  apprehending  duty,  is  the  faculty  o/ 


016  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §638* 

will  01  choice  qualifying  man  to  fulfil  the  end  of  his  being.  The  existence 
of  this  power,  its  importance  to  human  development  and  responsibility,  the 
necessity  that  it  should  be  defended  in  its  integrity,  explain  the  necessity 
of  moral  trial,  and  the  possibility  of  moral  evil;  under  the  one  relation  of  the 
ends  which  the  possession  of  this  power  and  the  exposures  which  it  in- 
volves are  adapted  to  fulfil. 

The  adaptations  with  which  ethics  has  to  do,  are  chiefly  internal,  and  suppose 
rhe  adaptations  a  spiritual  organism  in  the  soul — a  system  of  internal  adaptations  in  the  sev- 
cal6  3  PSy°  eral  powers  with  which  it  is  endowed,  which  indicate  our  duties  and  our  obliga- 
tions. These  all  exist  for  moral  perfection.  To  this  the  soul  is  adapted  and 
to  it  it  tends  and  is  impelled.  Without  this  intuition  and  faith  in  its  truth,  ethics  can  have  no 
meaning  and  duty  no  authority.  If  reason  as  proposing  ends  is  the  highest  ruling  power  in 
man,  then  the  reason,  when  it  discovers  and  proposes  the  highest  moral  ends,  exercises  its  lof- 
tiest function,  and  reigns  sovereign  over  the  inner  and  outer  world  by  a  self-justified  authority. 

§  637.  10.  In  Theology,  or  the  science  of  God,  whether  natu- 
theology!011  t0  ra^  or  revea^e(^j  tni§  principle  is  of  supreme  importance.  The 

most  of  the  so-called  demonstrations  of  the  being  of  God,  find 
their  material  or  grounds  of  proof  in  the  indications  of  design  that  are 
furnished  in  the  material  and  spiritual  universe. 

These  arguments  are  usually  stated  somewhat  thus :  Design  proves  or  impliea 
Argument  for  a  ^esigner  .  The  universe  abounds  in  design  ;  Therefore  the  universe  implies 
eiice  in  its  usual  or  proves  a  designer.  Or,  order  and  adaptation  imply  a  designer ;  The  uni- 
verse abounds  in  order  and  adaptation ;  Therefore  a  designer  exists. 

The  major  premise  in  this  argument  is  obviously  assumed  or  received  as  d priori.  The  minor 
is  a  statement  of  fact  grounded  on  observation  or  induction.  Those  who  employ  it  would  not 
accept  the  view  for  which  we  contend,  that  the  belief  that  adaptation  prevails  throughout  the 
universe  is  a  first  truth  or  axiom  of  thought.  They  rest  their  belief  upon  observation,  and 
they  search  through  the  universe  to  discover  instances  of  the  presence  of  this  relation.  Hav- 
ing observed  a  sufficient  number,  they  gather  them  into  a  result  by  induction,  and  then  apply 
the  proposition  which  expresses  them  as  the  minor  premise  of  their  syllogism. 

We  have  sought  to  prove  that  the  proposition  affirming  final  cause  is  a  first  principle  or 
intuitive  truth ;  that  it  is  not  in  any  sense  dependent  on  observation,  but  is  an  original  and 
necessary  belief  or  category ;  that  so  far  from  being  derived  from  induction,  it  is  the  necessary 
ground  on  which  induction  itself  must  rest  for  its  validity  and  application. 

It  is  an  interesting  question,  How  does  this  doctrine  stand  related  to 
the  "knowledge  of  God  and  the  belief  in  his  existence  and  attributes  ?  We 
find  in  point  of  fact,  that  it  has  opened  the  way  for  speculative  inquiry 
which  has  resulted  in  a  great  variety  of  diverse  opinions. 
TWO  classes  of  §  638>  These  diversities  of  opinion  may  all  be  grouped  in  two 
D!"  leading  classes  or  divisions,  according  as  the  adherents  of  each 
reject  or  accept  the  belief  of  a  personal  God.  The  one  class 
personality.  believe  in  design  as  an  immanent  force,  which  does  not  in- 
volve a  relation  to  any  thing  beyond  the  object  itself.  They  fully  accept 
the  truth  that  design  rules  throughout  nature.  They  find  examples  of 
the  relation  of  final  cause  everywhere  present.  But  they  insist  that  these 


§639.  DESIGN   OR  FINAL  CAUSE.  617 

do  not  necessarily  carry  the  thoughts  out  of  nature.  Final  cause  or  de- 
sign is  a  force  in  nature  itself,  being  immanent  in  each  separate  object,  01 
in  all  existing  objects,  taken  as  an  organism  or  whole  of  parts  mutually 
related  and  connected. 

For  example :  the  vine  growing  in  the  dark  corner  of  a  cellar,  follows  after  the  light  by 
a  tendency  toward  the  condition  of  its  well-being,  in  obedience  to  whose  impulses  it  acts  under 
the  law  of  design  which  is  within  the  vine  itself.  In  a  similar  way  the  vital  force  organizes 
the  animal  structure,  anticipating  by  an  immanent  adaptation  in  the  form,  material,  and  func- 
tional capacity  of  each  organ,  the  end  which  it  actually  reaches  in  the  fully  developed  indi- 
vidual by  itself  and  in  the  individual  as  related  to  the  species.  So  the  bird  builds  its  nest 
under  the  same  law  of  immanent  adaptation  of  its  tendencies  towards  the  end  which  the  neces- 
sities and  nature  of  the  bird  require.  Under  the  working  of  the  same  law,  the  bee  moulds  its 
cell  and  its  comb,  and  the  beaver  constructs  its  dam  and  its  double  house.  So,  under  a  simi- 
lar immanent  force  acting  as  a  law  to  all  its  working,  has  the  universe  developed  itself  through 
its  successive  phases  in  the  several  geologic  periods,  involving  the  production  of  the 
varied  forms  of  animal  and  vegetable  life  till  it  has  reached  the  end  to  which  it  has  all  the  while 
Deen  tending,  viz.,  the  production  of  self-conscious  and  rational  man,  who  is  an  end  to  himself 
and  nature,  and  who  can  interpret  the  mutual  adaptations  of  both. 

Those  who  hold  this  doctrine,  concede  that  adaptation  prevails  in  nature,  and  must  be 
assumed  to  explain  its  powers  and  operations ;  also,  that  it  works  all  the  while  as  though  a 
personal  mind  had  contrived  these  ends  and  the  relations  which  they  involve,  and  also  con- 
tinued to  direct  them.  But  they  urge  that  we  are  not  forced  to  ascribe  this  adaptation  to  a 
personal  being,  but  may  refer  it  to  an  impersonal,  unconscious,  unthinking  force,  as  blind 
and  unintelligent  as  the  efficient  forces  that  act  by  mechanical  laws. 

8  639.  The  second  class  contend  that  the  necessary  correlate 

The  second    ac-  .  .  .         .       ,          ,  . 

ceptsa  personal  to  adaptation  is  a  designing  mind  :  Adaptation  is  the  objec- 
tive relation  to  which  thought  is  an  essential  supplement : 
Adaptation  does  not  prove  or  indicate  design,  but  it  logically  implies  it : 
If,  therefore,  the  adaptation  is  real,  so  is  the  designing  mind.  In  assum- 
ing the  one  by  an  d  priori  necessity,  you  must  also  assume  the  other. 
The  belief  in  adapted  things  both  logically  and  really  carries  with  itself 
the  belief  in  adapting  thought  and  an  adaptive  thinker.  The  mind  need 
not  necessarily  think  of  the  two  at  the  same  instant,  or  in  the  same  con- 
nection. The  attention  may  be  so  concentrated  upon  the  adaptation 
objectively  considered,  its  ingenuity,  the  variety  of  the  means  employed, 
th(;  intricacy  and  order  of  the  combinations  required,  that  it  does  not  in 
thought  refer  to  the  correlate,  but  this  fact  does  not  prove  that  it  is  not 
necessarily  involved.  For  example :  in  a  machine  of  human  devising,  an 
ingenious  mind  can  discern  very  many  adaptations,  without  adverting  to 
the  mind  which  produced  them,  or  distinctly  recognizing  the  fact  that  it 
proceeded  from  any  thought.  But  as  soon  as  it  raises  the  question  and 
reflects  on  the  relation  it  believes  the  fact. 

It  may  be  said  in  the  way  of  objection,  that  when  we  reflect  on  the  adapta- 
tions of  nature,  we  do  not,  as  in  the  instance  of  a  human  machine,  refer  these 
adaptations  to  a  thinking  mind,  but  resolve  them  into  many  intervening  im- 
personal agencies,  and  reach  the  divine  mind  only  by  the  mind's  weariness  ic 


618  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  639. 

going  through  an  unending  series,  or  its  want  of  philosophic  courage  in  m&idng  t  ht  series  ta 
return  upon  itself,  so  as  to  make  the  universe  a  completed  cycle  —  the  absolute  —  un  organism 
of  which  every  part  and  the  whole  are  mutually  end  and  means. 

To  this  it  may  be  replied,  that  it  is  true  that  the  mind  does  not  pass  in 

thought  directly  to  the  divine  agency,  but  for  the  sole  reason  that  it  learns 

by  observation  and  experience  that  other  agencies  are  interposed  involving 

other  adaptations,  which  widen  the  range  of  its  thinking  and  enlarge  its  con- 

ception of  the  organism  itself.     It  does  not  refuse  to  allow  the  series  of  successively  adapted 

objects  to  return  upon  itself  because  it  lacks  the  courage  to  think  the  absolute,  but  because  th* 

conception  of  an  absolute,  consisting  of  adapted  elements  without  thought  or  design  is  irra 

tional,  and  of  course  unthinkable  and  unbelievable.     It  accepts  the  conception  and  the  fact 

of  an  absolute  with  all  its  mystery,  but  it  is  an  absolute  that  is  completed  and  made  perfect 

by  supplementing  objective  adaptations  by  subjective  thought. 

If  the  mind  were  not  carried  from  one  relation  to  another  of  objective  fitness, 
agencies  do  not  and  thus  detained  and  diverted  from  the  necessary  correlate,  it  would  proceed 
disprove  person-  directly  to  the  desigumg  mind,—  the  intelligent  originator.  Such  is  the  faith 
of  children.  This  also  is  the  faith  of  those  races  of  men  who  have  not  attained 
to  the  knowledge  of  the  general  forces  and  the  undeviating  laws  of  nature.  Such  believe  that 
ingenuity  supposes  intelligence,  and  find  no  difficulty  in  believing  in  the  direct  energy  of  a 
superior  intelligence,  even  while  they  hold  to  the  action  of  the  few  second  causes  which  their 
limited  experience  of  nature  has  enabled  them  to  generalize.  This  may  be  called  superstition, 
it  is  true,  but  it  is  really  superstition  so  far  only  as  it  directs  its  faith  to  mistaken  objects  or 
overlooks  the  agency  of  intermediate  forces.  It  is  no  error  to  refer  adaptations  to  intel- 
ligence, however  serious  an  error  it  may  be  to  narrow  the  range  of  the  fitnesses.  What  makea 
the  superstition  plausible  and  tenacious  is  the  truth  that  intelligence  is  required.  Not  only 
would  one  '  rather  believe  all  the  fables  of  the  Alcoran,  '  as  Bacon  says,  but  it  is  more  rational 
to  believe  them,  than  that  "  the  universe  is  without  a  mind."  To  exclude  or  to  deny  this 
reference  of  these  designs  to  such  a  mind,  is  the  superstition  of  modern  philosophy  which  so 
restricts  the  attention  to  the  efficient  causes  which  render  adaptation  possible  and  evident, 
as  to  fail  to  regard  them  under  the  higher  relation. 

An  example  will  illustrate  the  similarity  and  the  difference  between  the  application  of  this  relation 
in  the  case  of  the  savage,  who  ascribes  a  single  instance  of  adaptation  directly  to  a  rational  deviser,  and 
the  philosopher  in  the  other,  who  sees  it  extend  so  widely  and  numerously  over  an  immense  field  of  effi- 
cient agencies  that  he  questions  whether  to  ascribe  it  to  a  rational  spirit  at  all.  "We  take  a  plant,  say  the 
weed  that  is  trodden  under  our  feet,  or  the  bud  that  is  just  starting  in  the  nearest  hedge.  The  plant  is 
itself  so  abundant  in  adaptations,  that  regarding  it  by  itself,  we  might  say  it  was  produced  directly  by  a 
creating  power  ;  but  we  discover  that  it  was  not  so  created  but  was  evolved  from  a  tiny  seed.  But  the 
seed,  to  produce  it,  must  depend  upon  the  light  and  moisture,  upon  the  sun  and  the  eaxth,  as  co-agencies, 
in  order  that  it  may  germinate  and  grow  into  a  perfected  plant.  The  seed  in  its  turn  was  evolved  from 
another  plant,  which  was  also  evolved  in  a  similar  way  and  ripened  from  another  plant  by  the  aid  of  sun 
and  air  and  earth.  What  if  this  is  so  ?  Are  not  the  heat  and  light  and  moisture  as  really  adapted  to  the 
several  parts  of  the  plant,  as  the  organs  of  the  plant  in  their  functions  are  adapted  to  one  another  ?  Are 
not  all  an  organism,  as  truly,  though  not  by  so  close  and  exclusive  a  connection,  as  are  the  constituents  of  the 
plant  itself?  Is  not  the  whole  series  of  the  plants  of  a  single  species,  with  all  the  agencies  which  condition 
their  coexistent  and  continuous  life,  as  truly  an  organism  of  mutually  adapted  elements,  as  if  a  single  in- 
dividual of  a  non-existent  species  had  been  created  in  the  morning  and  had  perished  at  night  ?  The  dis- 
covery of  additional  conditions,  though  they  stretch  throughout  the  universe  in  space,  or  of  efficient  forces, 
though  they  extend  in  time  through  a  long  series  and  are  connected  as  parent  and  ofJspring,  simply 
renders  the  structure  more  complex  and  its  adaptations  more  various  and  interesting. 

The  knowledge  of  efficient  causes  suffers  the  same  enlargement  and  expansion 
tion    consistent    as  the  knowledge  of  final  causes.     Tine  savage  ascribes  the  effect  directly  to 


its  Proximate  efficient  and  goes  no  farther.     He  does  not  ask,  he  does  not 
answer,  whether  this  efficient  is  so  related  to  other  causes  as  to  be  itself  an 
effect     Or  if  he  soon  learns  that  this  is  true  on  a  limited  scale  and  within  a  narrow  range,  he 


§640.  SUBSTANCE  AND  ATTRIBUTE  I   MIND  AND   MATTER.  6  IS 

docs  not  so  extend  his  thoughts  as  to  grasp  the  grand  agencies  of  the  universe,  and  see  that 
these  operate  after  definite  laws,  and  together  constitute  a  comprehensive  mechanism  of 
mutually  related  causes  and  effects.  But  his  belief  in  the  relation  is  as  real  as  is  that  of  the 
philosopher  notwithstanding  that  he  applies  it  in  a  limited  or  superstitious  way.  It  does  not 
therefore  follow  that  because  the  savage  and  the  superstitious  make  a  limited  application  of  the 
principle  of  final  cause  the  philosopher  should  not  believe  that  it  pervades  the  universe,  and 
requires  as  its  correlate  a  designing  mind. 


The  relation  of  §  640>  ^ne  application  of  this  principle  in  tbe  service  of 
efficient  to  final  Natural  Theology  raises  another  question  ;  viz.,  What  relation 
has  efficient  to  final  causation  in  the  universe  ?  Does  each  lead 
us  to  its  separate  principle  or  agent,  or  do  both  united  direct  us  to  one  ? 
Does  the  adapting  agent  simply  take  the  efficient  forces  and  laws  of  the 
universe  as  it  finds  them,  and  arranging  them  as  best  it  may,  bring  out 
of  them  the  wisest  results  to  which  its  sagacity  may  adapt  them,  or  does  it 
also  originate  the  forces  which  it  arranges  and  combines  ?  The  one  view 
gives  the  eternity  of  matter,  with  its  hindrances  and  limitations  and 
possibilities  of  evil,  making  the  Deity  a  Demiurgos  or  Plastic  energy. 
The  other  makes  the  originator  and  the  arranger  to  be  the  same  power 
and  mind.  The  one  view  is  the  cruder  theism  of  Ancient  Philosophy,  the 
other  the  purer  theism  of  the  Jewish  and  Christian  Scriptures. 

It  would  carry  us  too  far  from  our  appropriate  theme  to  argue  here 
the  question  between  the  two.  The  discussion  of  it  belongs  to  Natural 
Theology.  Psychology  suggests  the  following  solution.  The  purely 
Theistic  theory  is  supported  by  the  cardinal  principle  of  all  philosophizing 
which  bids  us  provide  the  fewest  agencies  which  solve  a  problem  or  ex- 
plain a  phenomenon.  The  theory  is  certainly  conceivable,  and  the  analogy 
of  the  human  soul,  which  combines  in  itself  —under  limits  —  a  creating 
force  and  an  adapting  or  designing  force,  gives  the  strongest  possible 
testimony  in  its  favor. 


CHAPTER    VH. 

SUBSTANCE    AND   ATTRIBUTE  I    MIND   AND   MATTER. 

return  again  to  the  relation  of  Substance  and  Attribute  and  its  most  important  applications 
in  the  determination  of  our  definitions  of  Mind  and  Matter  sod  of  Real  and  Phenomenal 
Being.  The  Relation  itself  in  the  abstract,  we  have  already  briefly  explained  under  the 
Formal  Categories,  §  542.  We  have  also  in  passing  alluded  to  its  applications  to  the 
objects  of  Sense-perception  and  of  Consciousness^^  166,6;  96.  To  do  complete  justice  to 
it,  however,  we  must  first  have  considered  the  various  classes  of  relations  which  are 
known  as  attributes  of  material  and  psychical  beings.  The  Relation  is  se  fundamental 


520  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §641, 

and  so  much  discussed  in  Psychology  and  Philosophy,  as  imperatively  to  require  a  some- 
what  extended  discussion. 


from  §  641-  Tlie  various  import  of  the  concepts  denoted  by  the 
wor(^s  should  first  be  explained.  The  substance  or  substratum 
with  which  we  have  to  do,  is  the  Real  substance  or  substra- 
tum, and  as  such  should  first  of  all  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the 
logical  substance  or  subject.  A  logical  subject  is  any  thing  which  is  con- 
ceived in  thought  as  a  substance  with  attributes,  whether  it  does  or  does 
not  exist  in  fact.  Thus  any  abstractum  can  be  treated  in  thought  and  de- 
scribed in  language  as  though  it  had  real  being,  and  were  endowed  with 
real  attributes.  The  concepts  power,  goodness,  responsibility,  representa- 
tion, republic,  wages,  wealth,  or  any  other  abstract  notion,  may  be  conceived 
in  thought  and  treated  in  language  as  having  properties  or  qualities  which 
are  affirmed  of  each  as  though  it  were  a  real  being.  Any  object  of  thought, 
whatever  it  may  be,  which  is  made  the  subject  of  a  mental  affirmation  or 
predication,  is  a  logical  subject.  The  attributes  of  a  logical  subject  are 
predicated  of  it  in  the  same  forms  of  language  as  are  the  attributes  of  a 
real  being.  The  subject  itself  in  all  its  elements  is,  however,  generalized 
from  a  reality,  and  can  only  be  understood  and  interpreted  by  means  of 
such  reality  and  the  elements  or  relations  which  such  a  reality  involves. 

Real  substance  ought  also  to  be  distinguished  from  the  grammatical  subject.  The  gram- 
matical subject  is  any  word  which  is  used  in  a  sentence  as  though  it  were  a  logical  subject.  As  a 
logical  subject  is  one  of  which  attributes  or  properties  are  affirmed  in  thought,  so  a  grammatical 
subject  is  one  of  which  attributes  are  predicated  in  the  forms  of  language.  The  grammatical 
and  logical  subject,  as  is  well  known,  may  in  fact  coincide  or  be  separate  from  one  another. 
Both  presuppose  the  Real  or  Metaphysical  relation  of  substance  and  attribute.  They  are  both 
imitations  of  it  in  thought  or  language,  and  derive  all  their  meaning  and  force  from  this 
original. 

The  Etymology  §  642.  The  Etymology  of  the  Terms  is  worth  a  moment's 
Krs^o^Sub-  n°tice,  so  far  as  it  may  serve  to  explain  any  philosophical 
stance.  theories  and  relieve  any  philosophical  difficulties.  The  words 

substratum,  substance,  and  subject,  have  a  common  derivation  which  lite- 
rally imports  something  standing  or  lying  under,  and  implies  that  ther*j 
is  something  placed  above  or  upon  it  which  may  be  removed.  This  sug- 
gests the  impression  that  the  attributes  are  superinduced  upon  the  sub- 
stance, as  folds  or  wrappings  are  thrown  over  or  around  a-  nucleus  or  core 
within.  This  prompts  to  the  effort  to  lay  off  the  covering,  to  separate  the 
wrappings  from  that  which  they  invest,  to  scale  off  the  laminae  or  folds, 
and  find  the  naked  substance  or  substratum  within  or  beneath,  bare  of  all 
qualities  and  relations.  The  effort  to  lay  aside  the  qualities  in  order  to 
find  the  subject  is  soon  discovered  to  be  vain.  It  is  as  though  one  should 
cut  down  the  trees  in  order  to  find  the  forest.  It  is  found  to  be  impossible 
to  diso  )ver  an  actually-existing  subject  without  attributes.  The  simple  si 


8  642.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE  :   MIND  AND   MATTER.  621 

and  barest  object  in  the  universe,  that  which  in  its  nature  is  the  most 
uninteresting  and  the  most  undistinguished — as  the  mote  in  a  sunbeam 
the  minutest  perceptible  grain  of  sand,  the  atom  or  molecule  which  the 
physicist  cannot  perceive,  but  of  which  he  learnedly  discourses,  the  monad 
of  which  the  metaphysician  confidently  speculates — must  always  be  con- 
ceived as  having  place  and  form,  and  as  involving  the  relations  of  exten- 
sion and  force.  But  all  these  are  attributes.  The  innermost  nucleus  or 
core  of  every  material  object  is  still  possessed  of  form  and  properties,  and 
is  just  as  truly  and  necessarily  a  substance  as  the  material  object  itself. 
If  it  is  conceived  by  abstraction  as  a  mental  something,  it  must  still 
occupy  a  portion  of  space  by  its  power  to  attract  and  repel,  i.e.,  it  must 
still  be  conceived  as  substance  and  quality.  If  the  substance  is  spiritual, 
it  cannot  be  conceived  except  as  endowed  with  certain  capacities  which 
constitute  and  define  it. 

Etymology  of  ^e  etymology  and  use  of  the  terms  attribute,  quality,  property 
attribute,  quaii-  an(j  accident  do  not  give  us  any  greater  satisfaction  as  to  the 
nature  of  the  distinction.  The  term  attribute  simply  directs 
the  attention  to  the  fact  that  we  attribute  to,  or  affirm  of,  a  being,  some- 
thing which  we  distinguish  from  itself;  but  what  we  distinguish  or  what 
it  is  distinguished  from,  is  in  no  way  explained.  Quality  is  a  term  of 
classification  merely,  and  signifies  the  being  of  a  certain  sort,  without 
explaining  how  it  comes  to  be  of  that  sort.  Property  indicates,  that  what 
we  thus  attribute  or  affirm  belongs  peculiarly  or  properly  to  the  being  or 
substance,  and  accident  that  it  belongs  to  it  occasionally.  These  different 
words  are  only  different  names  for  the  same  conception,  as  differently 
used.  But  their  etymology  or  application  throw  no  light  upon  the  con- 
ception itself,  or  how  it  originates,  or  is  distinguished  from  its  correlate 
substance. 

We  learn  moreover  that  we  can  no  more  find  an  attribute  without  substance,  than  we  can 
find  a  substance  without  attributes.  We  cannot  separate  length  from  something  which  is 
long,  nor  color  from  something  colored,  nor  thought  from  a  thinking  being,  nor  joy  from  a 
rejoicing  being.  The  two  conceptions  are  never  parted  in  the  world  of  real  being.  They  are 
not  merely  correlated  by  a  logical  relation,  but  they  are  always  inseparably  conjoined  in  actual 
existence. 

obscurity  and  §  643.  This  analysis  may  explain  why  philosophers  have 
opinion81^  re-  found  so  great  difficulty  in  explaining  the  relation  in  ques- 
tiond  tc  tion,  and  have  been  so  dissatisfied  with  their  own  conclu- 

sions. They  have  either  been  misled  by  the  etymology  of  the  terms  to 
expect  they  should  find  more  than  they  had  warrant  to  seek  for,  or  else 
they  have  confounded  metaphysical  substance  with  actually  existing 
things. 

Locke  observes,  "  "We  have  no  such  clear  idea  at  all  and  therefore  signify  nothing  by 
Locke's  view  of  the  word  substance,  but  only  an  uncertain  supposition  of  we  know  not  wh»t.»  (B.  I.  c.  4, 
Substance  and  §  18.)  And  again,  "  Of  substance  we  know  not  what  it  is  but  only  a  confused  obscure  one 
Attribute.  Of  what  it  does."  (B.  II.  c.  13,  §  19.)  Again,  "  Not  imagining  how  these  simple  ideas  can 

subsist  by  themselves,  we  acctstom  ourselves  to  suppose  some  substratum  wherein  ttej 


(522  THE  HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  643 

do  subsist  ai  d  from  wh.ch  they  do  result,  which,  therefore,  we  call  substance."  (II.  a  23,  §  1.)  "  The  ide» 
of  pure  substance  in  general,  is  only  a  supposition  of  we  know  not  what  support  of  such  qualities  as  are 
capable  of  producing  simple  ideas  in  us."  (23,  §2.)  And  yet  Locke  grounds  the  supposition  in  question 
on  '  the  repugnancy  to  our  conceptions  that  modes  and  accidents  should  subsist  by  themselves,'  i.  e.,  "  that 
we  cannot  conceive  how  simple  ideas  of  sensible  qualities  should  subsist  alone,  and  therefore,  we  suppose 
them  to  exist  in,  and  to  be  supported  by,  some  common  subject ;  which  support  we  denote  by  the  name 
rabstance."  (23,  §  4.) 

Hume  says,  "  The  idea  of  a  substance  as  well  as  that  of  a  mode,  is  nothing  but  a  collec- 
tion of  simple  ideas,  that  are  united  by  the  imagination  and  have  a  particular  name 
Views  of  Hume,     assigned  them,  by  which  we  are  able  to  recall,  either  to  ourselves  or  others,  that  collec- 
tion.   But  the  difference  between  these  ideas  consists  in  this,  that  the  particular  quali- 
ties which  form  a  substance  are  commonly  referred  to  an  unknown  something,  in  which 
they  are  supposed  to  inhere ;  or  granting  this  fiction  should  not  take  place,    are  at  least  supposed  to  be 
closely  and  inseparably  connected  by  the  relations  of  contiguity  and  causation."    Hum.  Nat.  P.  I.  §  6. 

Reid  says,  "  I  perceive  in  a  billiard-ball,  figure,  color,  and  motion,  but  the  ball  is  not 

figure,  nor  is  it  color,  nor  motion,  nor  all  these  taken  together  ;   it  is  something  tha* 

Of  Reid.  has  figure,  and  color,  and  motion.    This  is  a  dictate  of  nature  and  the  belief  of  all  man* 

kind.    As  to  the  nature  of  this  something,  I  am  afraid  we  can  give  little  account  of  it, 

but  that  it  has  the  qualities  which  our  senses  discover."    Essays  on  Int.  Powers,  Ess, 

I.  c.  19. 

But  how  do  we  know  that  they  are  qualities,  and  cannot  exist  without  a  subject  ?  To  this  Reid  replies, 
"  I  confess  I  cannot  explain  how  we  know  that  they  cannot  exist  without  a  subject  any  more  than  I  can 
explain  how  we  know  that  they  exist.    "We  have  the  information  of  nature  for  their  existence,  and  I  think 
we  have  the  information  of  nature  that  they  are  qualities."     Id.    Cf.  Ess.  I.  c.  2  ;  also,  Ess.  VI.  c.  6,  §  6. 
Kant  gives  the  following  as  the  result  of  his  critical  inquiry  :  The  Ding  an  sich  (the 
thing  by  itself)  is  simply  unattainable  by  human  research,  and  yet  the  philosopher  is 
Of  Kant.  doomed  to  follow  after  it  over  bush  and  brier,  as  after  an  ignis  fatuus,  which  he  never 

can  reach.  The  substance  without  attributes  can  neither  in  the  world  of  matter  nor  in 
the  world  of  spirit  be  actually  discovered  or  laid  hold  of.  The  distinction  is  made  by 
the  mind  alone.  The  substance  which  underlies  the  attributes  and  is  manifested  through  activities  in 
phenomena,  is  only  discerned  in  thought.  It  is  a  Noumenon,  or  thought  object,  as  distinguished  from  the 
Phenomenon,  or  object  known  to  sense  and  consciousness.  The  one  is  interpreted  by  the  other.  The  au- 
thority of  this  distinction  and  of  our  belief  in  its  validity  is,  however,  with  and  for  man  alone.  It  is  dis- 
cerned under  a  form  of  thinking  which  is  indeed  necessary  to  the  human  intellect,  but  of  which  we  cannot 
assert  or  know  that  it  corresponds  to  any  objective  reality. 

Whewell  adopts  in  substance  the  theory  of  Kant,  and  yet  combines  with  it  a  mode  of 
speaking  and  of  thought  borrowed  from  Locke  and  Reid.     "  An  apple  which  is  red  and 
Of  Whewell.  round  and  hard,  is  not  merely  redness  and  roundness  and  hardness ;  these  circum- 

stances may  all  alter  while  the  apple  remains  the  same  apple.  Behind  or  under  these 
appearances  which  we  see.  we  conceive  something  of  which  we  think  ;  or,  to  use  the 
metaphor  which  obtained  currency  among  the  ancient  philosophers,  the  attributes  and  qualities  which  we 
observe  are  supported  by  and  inherent  in  something ;  and  this  something  is  called  a  substratum  or  substance 
— that  which  stands  beneath  the  apparent  qualities  and  supports  them."  Hist.  Scient.  Ideas,  vol.  ii.  p.  30. 
The  terms  '  conceive '  and  « think '  are  used  by  "Whewell  in  a  technical  way,  as  equivalent  to  imposing  upon 
the  phenomena  the  "  conceptions  of  the  understanding""  and  "  the  forms  of  thought  "  in  the  Kantian  sense, 
BO  that,  in  the  meaning  of  that  philosopher,  the  substance  is  a  noumenon  as  distinguished  from  a, phenome- 
non. But  when  he  speaks  of  substances  as  behind  or  under  these  appearances,  he  adopts  the  views  of  Locke 
and  Reid,  although  in  the  remainder  of  this  very  sentence  he  recognizes  such  a  use  of  substance  or  su6- 
etratum  as  a  "metaphor." 

8  644.   In  order  to  avoid  the  confusion  and  embarrassment 

Substance  in  the     .°  .  .  ..  _  ..  „          ,, 

abstract ;    how    into  which  philosophers  have  so  generally  fallen  from  con- 
founding abstract  and  real  or  concrete  substance,  we  wiT1 
consider  the  two  apart  and  somewhat  more  particularly  than  we  have  done 
ulready. 

I.    Substance  in  the  abstract. 

The  concept  substance  is  less  general  than  that  of  simple  being.  Being 
has  already  been  explained  to  be  correlate  to  and  coextensive  with  knowl- 
edge, inasmuch  as  it  is  applicable  to  every  object  that  is,  or  that  is  con 


§644.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE  I   MIND  AND   MATTER.  623 

ceived  to  be  knowable  or  known.  But  every  thing  that  is  known  is  not 
only  known  to  be,  but  is  also  known  as  related.  Hence,  with  every  act 
of  knowledge,  the  concept  of  being  as  related,  at  once  arises  and  becomes 
universally  applicable  to  every  object  that  is  known.  Certain  of  these 
relations  may  be  used  to  distinguish,  define  and  explain  these  knowable 
objects.  The  concept  of  being  with  relations  so  discerned  and  applied  is 
the  abstract  concept  of  substance.  It  is  not  like  the  concept  being,  a  sim 
pie  concept,  but  it  is  complex,  and  made  up  of  the  two  elements  M?^ancl 
related.  It  is  more  even  than  this.  It  is  being  distinguishable  as  a  perma- 
nent sort  or  class  by  a  complex  of  relations. 

II.    Of  attribute  in  the  abstract. 

§  645.  The  conception  of  attribute  arises  in  a  similar  way.  As 
soon  as  an  object  is  discerned  in  a  definite  relation  to  another 
object,  this  relation  can  be  affirmed  of  or  attributed  to  this 
object.  When  one  or  more  attributes  can  be  applied  to  define  or  distin- 
guish, any  one  of  these  gives  the  generic  conception  of  attribute,  as 
used  in  this  technical  sense.  Every  relation  by  which  an  object  is  known 
or  distinguished  is  an  attribute  in  the  largest  and  most  abstract  sense  of 
the  word. 

Whenever  we  think  of  a  being  as  possibly,  but  not  actually  related  or  distinguished  by  ita 
relations,  we  think  of  it  as  a  substance  without  attributes.  In  the  same  manner,  when  we  think 
of  a  real  or  possible  relation,  we  may  think  of  an  attribute  as  such,  without  a  substance. 
Now,  there  are  as  many  kinds  of  attributes  supposable  as  there  are  distinguishable  kinds  of 
relations.  There  are  attributes  of  time  and  space  with  all  the  relations  which  these  involve 
and  render  possible.  There  are  attributes  of  causality  and  design.  There  are  also  as  many 
kinds  of  substances  as  there  are  beings  distinguishable  in  kind  by  combinations  of  relations. 
An  individual  substance  is  known  only  by  the  individual  relations  which  it  shares  with  no  other. 
The  s^lbstance  is  not,  however,  made  up  or  constituted ,  by  its  relations.  It  is  known  in  fact  as 
a  being  holding  relations.  It  is  known  in  thought,  by  its  relations  or  attributes.  From  this 
analysis  it  is  manifest  that  the  category  of  substance  and  attribute  is  not  simple  and  original 
like  the  other  categories  which  we  have  considered,  but  is  complex  and  derived.  Any 
one  of  these  relations,  when  employed  for  the  ends  of  recognition  or  description,  for  defini- 
tion or  classification,  for  reasoning  or  explanation;  in  short,  for  knowledge  of  any  sort, 
whether  common  or  scientific,  becomes  an  attribute.  Any  thing  that  is,  when  it  is  sufficiently 
permanent  or  oft-recurring  to  require  to  be  known  by  attributes,  is  a  substance. 

This  analysis  also  explains  the  affinity  between  real  substance  and  the  logical  and  gram- 
matical subjects.  All  these  are  conceived  to  be  objects  of  knowledge  in  some  relation  to 
one  another,  and  hence  are  all  conceived  to  be  capable  of  attributes.  The  logical  and  gram- 
matical subjects  are  for  the  moment  conceived  and  treated  as  real  beings  in  real  relations. 

The  meaning  or  import  of  these  concepts  can  only  be  explained  and  imaged  by  concrete 
or  individual  instances.  As  being  is  interpretable  by  any  object  known,  and  is  explained 
to  the  mind  by  any  act  of  knowing,  so  substance  and  attribute  are  explained  by  any  com 
pleted  act  of  knowledge  which  apprehends  or  distinguishes  any  object  by  its  relations.  When 
the  mmd  generalizes  the  object  as  thus  apprehended  by  the  mind,  it  knows  what  the  concepts, 
substance  and  attribute  signify  in  their  most  general  imports.  This  may  suffice  for  these 
concepts  in  the  abstract. 


624  THE    HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §645. 


substance    and  consider  tnem  in   tne   concrete,  and  inquira 

concrete6  ia  tte  w^et^er  *^s  analysis  is  justified  when  it  is  applied  to  really 
existing  agents  and  things.  We  take  the  abstract  con- 
cepts already  explained  and  defined  —  of  substance  as  something  knowable 
by  its  relations,  and  of  attribute  as  one  or  more  of  these  relations,  —  and 
proceed  to  apply  them  to  the  different  kinds  of  actual  substances  and 
attributes.  Or  rather,  by  considering  the  concrete,  we  propose  to  test  the 
correctness  of  our  definitions  of  substance  and  attribute  in  the  abstract. 
We  hope  also  in  this  way  to  clear  up  the  difficulties  and  contusion  which 
have  been  encountered  in  the  various  applications  and  interpretations  of 
these  terms.  This  examination  will  involve  an  inquiry  as  to  the  different 
senses  in  which  these  concepts  are  used  and  understood,  and  the  terms 
which  correspond  to  them,  according  to  the  subject-matter  to  which  they 
are  applied. 

There  are  three  classes  of  objects-matter  to  which  the  category  is  most 
frequently  applied,  spiritual  substances,  corporeal  substances,  and  mathemat- 
ical entities.  Abstract  ideas,  or  abstracta,  follow  the  analogy  of  real  beings, 
and  so  do  grammatical  subjects,  as  has  already  been  explained.  Mathe- 
matical entities  do  the  same  so  far  as  this  relation  is  concerned,  as  we 
have  also  explained  at  length.  We  shall  consider  the  two  first  only,  and 
begin  with 

III.    Mental  or  /Spiritual  substance. 

Spiritual  or  §  646.  Here  we  encounter,  at  the  outset,  the  objection  or 
Sance,ami8conl  difficulty  that  a  mental  or  spiritual  being  cannot  be  a  sub- 
stance at  all.  This  difficulty  is  merely  verbal.  It  is  of  purely 
casual  association,  and  arises  simply  from  the  fact  that  the  term  is  usually 
applied  in  a  specific  sense  as  implying  material  existence,  and  not  in  one 
more  generic  as  equally  appropriate  to  beings  which  are  spiritual.  Dis- 
missing this  objection  as  merely  verbal  and  superficial,  we  proceed  to  in- 
quire in  what  sense  a  spirit  is  a  substance  with  attributes.  It  will  be  more 
satisfactory,  also,  if  we  consider,  not  spiritual  substance  in  the  largest  ac.- 
ceptance  of  the  term,  but  in  the  form  which  it  assumes  as  the  human  soul. 
With  this  we  are  familiar  by  our  previous  analysis,  and  are  now  prepared 
advantageously  to  ask  and  to  answer  what  this  analysis  has  taught  us  in 
respect  to^its  attributes  and  its  substance. 

TO  know,  feel,  The  prominent  attributes  of  the  substance  which  we  call  the 
Causative1'  ene™  human  soul,  are  its  capacities  to  know,  to  feel,  and  to  will 
gies-  It  is  usually  distinguished  and  defined  by  these.  But  to 

know,  to  feel,  to  will,  are  operations  or  modes  of  activity  and  suffering. 
They  are  energies  which  are  simply  causative  of  certain  effects,  or  which 
involve  energies  that  are  causative.  These  three  attributes  obviously  fall 
under  the  category  or  relation  of  causation,  and  are  simply  special  ex 
amples  of  its  occurrence. 


§647.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE '.   MIND   AND   MATTER.  6'J5 

What  it  is  to  know,  to  feel,  and  to  will,  we  can  only  know  by  the  conscious  exercise  or 
experience  of  these  operations.  The  products  of  these  operations  are  beings  in  the  philoso- 
phical meaning  of  the  word,  and  in  respect  to  them  we  affirm  a  cause  which  is  that  substance 
which  we  call  the  soul. 

But  we  know  more  of  the  substance  of  the  soul  than  that  it  is  the  cause  01 
tortile  ref?ITas  reciPient  of  those  effects  which  we  call  its  states.  It  is  involved  in  conscious* 
cause.  ness  that  the  soul  knows  these  acts  and  states  to  be  its  own ;  «.  e.,  to  be  caused 

or  suffered  by  the  individual  ego,  or  self.  What  is  known  is  the  agent  causing 
and  suffering,  as  well  as  the  effects.  The  soul  under  certain  conditions  and  limitations  is  known 
itself  to  act  and  suffer.  But  the  relations  of  the  soul  thus  known  do  not  take  it  out  of  the 
category  of  causation,  but  rather  require  more  imperatively  that  this  attribute  should  be  refer- 
red to  this  very  class.  So  true  and  striking  is  this  that  many  have  contended  that  the  con- 
scious energy  of  the  soul  in  knowing  and  in  willing  (in  one  or  both)  originates  the  conception 
and  explains  the  belief  of  causation. 

The  power  of  the  soul  to  be  conscious,  or  consciously  to  know,  is  also  a  capacity  for  causal 
efficiency,  and  when  attributed  to  the  soul  is  attributed  simply  as  one  of  its  causal  relations, 
known  as  the  others  by  its  exercise  and  i's  results. 

These  states  or  products  of  the  soul's  causal  activity,  are  transient  and  changing,  but  the 
ego  \spermanent  and  enduring.  As  the  cause  or  recipient  of  these  changes  the  soul  is  iden 
tical  with  itself.  They  are  diverse,  the  soul  is  one.  The  attributes  require  only  the  catego- 
ries of  the  soul  which  consciousness  reveals  of  identity,  diversity  and  Hi 


§  647.  Besides  the  attributes  of  the  soul  which  are  revealed 

Unconscious. 

psychical  powers    in  consciousness,  it  is  capable  of  acts  or  processes  of  which 

are  causative.          .     .  .  in  • 

it  is  conscious  only  of  the  results.  All  those  spiritual  capaci- 
ties which  fit  it  to  act  in  conjunction  with  the  body  in  preparing  or 
presenting  to  itself  the  objects  of  sense-perception  are  known  only  as 
effects  of  the  joint  action  of  spiritual  and  corporeal  causes.  They  are 
therefore  only  a  peculiar  species  of  causative  attributes. 

The  similar  capacities  of  the  soul  to  represent  any  object  of  previous 
experience  whether  subjective  or  objective,  whether  intellectual,  emotional 
or  voluntary,  are  causative  attributes  which  are  definitely  and  distinguish- 
ably  known  by  their  effects.  Its  presumed  capacities  to  exist  in  other 
conditions  of  being,  with  or  without  a  body  and  environed  by  another 
sphere,  come  under  the  same  category. 

Of  all  these  causative  energies  the  conditions  are  in  part  furnished  by  the  soul  itself;  aa 
when  memory,  imagination,  and  thought  act  on  the  materials  furnished  for  it  by  the  previous 
action  of  the  soul  in  acquisitive  and  intuitive  knowledge.  In  respect  to  these  conditions, 
the  soul  is  dependent  upon  its  own  nature,  for  it  is  a  being  as  well  as  a  causative  agent.  For 
other  conditions  of  its  causative  energies,  it  is  dependent  on  the  material  world.  Each  of 
these  classes  of  causal  activities  are  exercised  according  to  their  appropriate  laws. 

8  648.  Besides  the  relations  of  causation  there  are  relations 

Attributes       of  .  . 

design   in   the    of  design  which  pertain  to  the  soul.     These  are  conspicuous 

both  in  the  relations  of  one  power  and  act  of  the  soul  to 

another,  and  also  in  the  relations  of  the  soul  to  the  external  world  and 

the  body  which  connects  it  with  that  world.     All  of  these  relations  are 

attributes  of  the  soul,  and  some  are  so  necessary  to  an  adequate  concep- 

40 


826  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §648. 

tion  of  its  nature  as  to  deserve  to  be*  counted  amo  ig  its  essential  attri 
bates.  This  suggests  the  distinction  between  these  attributes  as  essential 
and  non-essential.  The  essential  attributes  are  peculiar  in  this,  that 
they  are  necessary  to  the  very  conception  of  the  soul  as  such,  and  so 
far  are  logically  essential.  They  are  also  found  actually  present  in  a 
class  of  individual  beings,  which  exist  under  the  permanent  laws  or 
order  of  the  universe,  and  are  essential  to  the  operation  of  its  laws  and 
the  designs  of  its  being.  Other  attributes  are  called  properties  not  because 
they  are  less  universal  or  necessary  under  the  fixed  constitution  of  things, 
nor  because  they  are  less  inevitable  and  essential  as  causes  to  account  for 
phenomena,  but  only  because  they  are  not  required  for  the  ends  of  logical 
knowledge  to  define  and  distinguish  the  soul  from  other  kinds  ol 
being. 

As  has  already  been  said,  when  attributes  are  spoken  of  especially  as  belonging  to  a 
substance,  it  is  the  essential  attributes  which  are  intended ;  those  which  constitute  and 
define  a  class  or  species  and  which  are  present  in  permanently  existing  individuals,  as  in  the 
inorganic  world,  or  are  perpetually  reproduced,  as  in  the  world  of  life. 

Besides  these  attributes  which  are  common  to  all  souls,  and  which  are  essen- 

Indi-vidual  attri-    tial  to  the  logical  conception  of  all,  there  are  attributes  or  relations  of  each 

esoul-    individual  soul,  which  are  known  and  knowable  by  each  individual  to  and 

of  himself.  Each  individual  ego  is  the  subject  and  agent  of  his  own  acts  and 
states.  Those  which  are  his  own,  he  knows  by  intuition,  as  well  as  the  ego  which  acts  and 
supposes  them.  This  ego  is  most  conspicuously  manifested  in  the  will.  Its  interests  and 
character  constitute  the  ends  and  aims  of  individual  activity. 

The  inquirer  for  spiritual  substance  would  say,  perhaps,  here  is  the  substance 
Hew  fax  the  ego  Of  the  soul.  Perhaps  in  this  permanent  ego  as  related  to  its  diverse  and 
eubstance.  changing  acts  and  products  may  be  detected  the  real  spiritual  substance 

which  is  the  origin  and  type  of  the  various  corporeal  substances,  which  we 
invest  with  their  appropriate  attributes.  On  looking  more  closely,  he  finds  that  this  ego  is  a 
being,  though  it  is  directly  known  in  a  way  quite  unique  and  peculiar.  To  know  the  ego 
is  a  being,  is  not  to  know  it  is  a  substance.  That  a  substance  must  be  a  being  all  concede,  but 
in  order  that  it  may  be  known  also  as  a  substance,  it  must  be  known  in  certain  relations,  and 
it  is  by  its  capacity  to  exist  and  be  known  in  these  relations  that  it  is  known  also  as  a  sub- 
stance. Those  relations  of  the  individual  ego  which  are  commonly  recognized  and  by  which 
it  is  distinguished  and  defined,  are  its  capacities  to  do  and  to  suffer,  to  know  and  attain  its 
end  or  destiny.  These  are  the  attributes  of  this  peculiar  being,  which  as  distinguished  and 
defined  by  these  is  called  spiritual  substance.  These  attributes  are  all  found  in  the  Categories 
of  Causation  and  Design.  When  to  these  we  add  its  relations  of  Identity  and  Time  we  com- 
plete the  cycle  of  its  attributes.  From  this  Induction  we  derive  the  following  definition. 

Human  spiritual  §  649>  That  Substance  which  ice  call  the  human  soul,  is  an 
£Sance  de"  identical  enduring  self,  capable  of  spiritual  acts  and  states  m 
the  succession  of  time,  and  adapted  to  certain  ends  for  itselj 
and  the  universe  of  being.  The  relation  of  substance  and  attribute  asserted 
in  this  definition  is  that  of  a  being  on  the  one  hand,  of  which  on  the  other 
a  variety  of  relations  is  affirmed,  as  of  time,  identity,  causation  and  design, 


§  650.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE  :    MIND   AND   MATTER.  621 

Of  these  relations,  those  which  are  especially  prominent  are  ilw  causative* 
Certain  causa-  These  are  its  so-called  Faculties,  which  are  capacities  for  special  and  distin 
iVeeitsafacubUiS  guishable  modes  of  causal  activity.  By  these  attributes  it  is  adequately 

distinguished  from  other  kinds  of  being.  Even  the  human  soul  is  effectually 
distinguished  by  these  faculties  from  the  other  species  of  spiritual  being.  When  the  soul  is 
thought  or  spoken  of  as  a  substance,  it  should  be  thought  of  as  endowed  with  causal  attributes, 
and  by  these  can  all  spiritual  substance  be  best  defined.  If  the  attempt  is  made  to  meas- 
ure the  soul  by  the  body,  or  to  affirm  of  it  relations  or  endowments  which  are  like  the 
corporeal,  the  mind  either  supplies  the  little  that  it  knows  by  some  gross  or  refined  theory 
of  materialism  or  falls  into  vague  or  fantastic  imagery.  This  explains  why  the  impression  is 
tenaciously  held  that  substance — i.  e.  definable  being — must  necessarily  be  hard  and  material, 
even  when  it  is  applied  to  spirit.  But  this  impression,  as  we  have  seen,  is  not  well  founded. 

Mr.  J.  Stuart  Mill,  in  his  Examination  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Philosophy,  chap,  xii., 
Mr.  Mill's  con-  has  Siven  a  laborious  explanation  of  our  conception  of  the  mind  or  soul,  upon  the  prin- 
ception  of  the  ciple  of  what  he  calls  '  the  Psychological  Theory,'— which  in  reality  signifies  the  Asso- 
8oul-  ciational  Psychology.  He  first  resolves  our  belief  that  "  the  mind  exists "  into  "th« 

belief  of  a  permanent  possibility  of  its  states."  He  then  asserts  that  our  belief  in  its 
existence  when  it  is  inactive,  contains  nothing  more  than  "  that  my  capability  of  feeling  is  not,  in  that  in- 
terval, permanently  destroyed."  He  then  adds  that  the  mind  is  defined  "  as  nothing  but  the  series  of  our 
sensations  as  they  "  actually  "  occur  with  the  addition  of  infinite  possibilities  for  their  actual  realization." 
Again,  "  the  mind  is  but  a  series  of  feelings,  or,  as  it  has  been  called,  a  thread  of  consciousness,  however 
supplemented  by  believed  possibilities  of  consciousness."  Again,  he  speaks  of  u  the  theory  which  resolvea 
mind  into  a  series  of  feelings,  with  a  background  of  possibilities  of  feelings."  Again,  "  if  we  speak  of  the 
mind  as  a  series  of  feelings,  we  are  obliged  to  complete  the  statement  by  calling  it  a  series  offerings  which 
is  aware  of  ITSELF  as  past  and  future  ;  and  we  are  reduced  to  the  alternative  of  believing  that  the  mind  or 
Ego  is  something  different  from  any  scries  of  feelings  or  possibilities  of  them,  or  of  accepting  the  paradox 
that  something  which,  ex  hypoth^si,  is  but  a  series  of  feelings,  can  be  aware  of  itself  as  a  series.  The 
truth  is  that  we  are  here  face  to  face  with  that  final  inexplicability  at  which,  as  Sir  "WTUain  Hamilton  ob- 
serves, we  inevitably  arrive  when  we  reach  ultimate  facts,"  etc. 

One  scarcely  knows  which  most  to  admire  in  these  statements,  the  clearness  of  the  perception  of  the 
difficulty  which  embarrasses  the  author's  own  theory,  or  the  failure  to  observe  that  the  difficulty  originates 
solely  ex  Injpothesi  Milltand.  The  question  is  simply,  what  are  the  ultimate  facts  which  are  finally  in- 
explicable ?  Do  they  or  do  they  not  involve  the  recognition  of  the  self-conscious  ego,  identical,  existing  in 
time,  as  Mill  denies  ;  or  "  of  a  series  of  feelings  aware  of  itself  as  past  and  future  ?"  Is  the  conception 
of  the  soul  truly  expressed  when  it  is  resolved  into  "  permanent  possibilities  of  sensation ;  "  or  by  the  asser- 
tion to  it  of  Faculties,  under  the  category  of  causa  ion.  believed  to  be  universal  and  necessary?  Is  "the 
background  of  possibilities  of  feeling"  and  "  of  infinite  possibilities  for  their  actual  realization  "  a  happy 
substitute  for  the  assumption  of  design  as  necessary  in  order  to  explain  our  belief  in  the  continued  exist- 
ence of  an  agent,  even  though  it  is  not  consciously  active;  and  in  its  permanent  adaptation  to  the  forces 
of  the  universe  which  are  the  conditions  of  its  existence  and  its  activity  I 

1Y.    Material  substance. 

§  650.  Every  material  substance  is,  like  spiritual  substance,  a 
B^tanc^define3^  being  discerned  or  discernible  by  intuitive  or  direct  knowl- 
edge and  also  definable  by  a  sufficient  variety  and  number 
of  relations  to  distinguish  it  from  other  beings.  These  relations  are  dis- 
cerned by  thought,  and  exist  between  itself  and  other  substances,  material 
and  spiritual.  A  material  substance  may  be  defined,  a  being  occupying  defi- 
nite limits  in  space,  and  productive  of  specific  sensations  in  the  sentient  soul 
on  occasion  of  which  it  is  perceived  or  known  to  exist. 

First  of  all,  it  is  related   to  space  in  trinal  extension.     It 

its  trinai  exten-    might  be  urged  that,  in  one  sense,  the  spectrum  cast  by 

the  camera  on  a  screen,  or  the  rainbow  flung  athwart  a 

cloud  are  material  substances,  with  only  superficial  or  binal  extension ;  but 


628  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §650. 

material  substance,  in  the  ordinary  sense,  has  threefold  extension,  or,  an 
we  say,  extension  in  three  dimensions.  These,  arranged  in  some  form, 
are,  as  has  been  sufficiently  explained,  its  indicia  and  evidences  as  far  as 
they  go,  and  essential  to  its  very  notion. 

Corporeal  substance  has  a  second  relation  to  space,  viz.,  that 
impenetrability,    of  space-occupying  or  space-filling.     This  is  often  called  the 
solidity  or  impenetrability  of  matter,  but  should  be  carefully 
distinguished  from  that  power  of  matter  to  awaken  the  sensation  of  hard- 
ness, which  is  also  called  solidity.    The  first  is  a  relation  to  space  which  is 
tested  and  expressed  by  the  application  of  motion.     The  second  is  the  ca- 
pacity of  the  body  to  excite  a  specific  sensation  upon  the  pressure  of  touch. 
These  relations  of  corporeal  substance  to  space  are  all  represented  or 
generalized  by  means  of  motion  or  the  movableness  of  body  in  three 
directions,  as  has  already  been  explained,  §  577. 

The  third  class  of  relations  which  belong  to  corporeal  sub- 
stance  are  its  powers  variously  to  affect,  through  the  senses, 
the  body  as  animated  and  ensouled,  and  also  the  soul  itself 
as  a  sentient  agent.  Every  material  substance  has  power  to  produce 
certain  so-called  impressions  on  the  so-called  organs  of  sensation, i.e. upon 
the  body  as  organized  to  receive  these  impressions.  Of  these  effects  the 
vibration  of  the  tympanum,  and  the  formation  of  the  image  on  the  retina, 
are  sufficient  examples.  These  may  occur  without  sensation,  as  is  mani- 
fest in  cases  of  disease,  of  mental  excitement,  and  of  the  use  of  anaesthetic 
agents.  But  the  condition  of  these  effects  even,  is  a  vitalized  or  living 
body.  Consequent  upon  these  are  those  effects  upon  the  sensitive  or  sen- 
tient soul  which  are  called  sensations,  or  sensations  proper.  The  condi- 
tion of  the  last  is  a  body  living  and  ensouled.  In  sensation,  or  rather,  in 
the  sense-element  of  the  complex  act  called  sense-perception,  the  soul  is 
purely  receptive  or  passive  and  the  material  substance  is  active:  that  is,  it 
is  causative  of  the  various  distinguishable  effects  which  are  known  by  ex- 
perience. Its  various  powers  to  produce  these  sensations  are  all  compre- 
hended under  the  category  or  relation  of  causation. 

Into  this  category  of  causative  forces  others  bring  the  power  claimed  for  matter  to 
cause  m  T>ercep-  produce  perceptions  in  the  soul.  According  to  their  theory,  every  act  or  state  of  por- 
tions as  distin-  ception  of  material  objects  is  an  effect  which  is  wrought  upon  the  soul  by  the  efficient 
gaished  from  causation  of  material  substance,  or  which,  at  the  utmost,  is  the  effect  of  the  joint  action 
of  the  two  factors  or  co-e2icient  agents,  viz.,  causative  matter  and  causative  mind.  The 
first  is  the  view  of  John  Stuart  Mill :  "  A  body,  according  to  the  received  doctrine  of  modern  metaphysi- 
cians, may  be  defined,  the  external  cause  to  which  we  ascribe  our  sensations.  When  I  see  and  touch  a 
piece  of  gold,  I  am  conscious  of  a  sensation  of  a  yellow  color,  and  sensations  of  hardness  and  weight,  and 
by  varying  the  mode  of  handling,  I  may  add  to  these  sensations  many  others  completely  distinct  from 
them.  The  sensations  are  all  of  which  I  am  directly  conscious ;  but  I  consider  them  as  produced  by  some- 
thing not  only  existing  independently  of  my  will  but  external  to  my  bodily  organs  and  to  my  mind.  This 
external  something  I  call  a  Body."  Logic,  I.  c.  3,  §  7. 

"  Matter,  then,  may  be  defined  a  Permanent  Possibility  of  Sensation.  I  affirm  with  confidence,  that 
this  conception  of  matter  includes  the  whole  meaning  attached  to  it  by  the  common  world,  apart  frosc 
philosophical  and  sometimes  from  theological  theories."  Exam,  of  Hamilton's  Phil.,  c,  xi. 

Similar  to  thip  is  the  view  of  Dr.  Thomas  Brown.    Lectures,  20-25. 


§052.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE:   MIND   AND   MATTER.  629 

The  second  view  is  held  by  Kant  and  in  part  countenanced  "by  Hamilton,  and  regards  knowledge  ae 
the  joint  product  of  two  causative  agents,  viz.,  body  with  its  agencies  upon  sense  giving  the  matter,  and 
the  mind  with  its  constitution  furnishing  the  forms  of  knowledge.  This  view,  unlike  the  first,  does  not  sinl 
the  mind  into  a  mere  recipient  of  the  impressions  caused  by  the  body,  but  it  makes  the  mind  itself  a  joint 
cause  of  the  effect ;  holding  the  activity  of  the  mind  in  knowing,  to  be  coordinate  with  and  similar  to  the 
causal  activity  of  matter  upon  the  senses.  Kant  carries  this  mistake  to  its  worst  possible  extreme  by 
suggesting  that  the  constitution  of  th<5  mind  as  a  co-factor  to  the  effect  might  also  be  changeable,  and 
with  it  the  nature  of  knowledge  itself.  Hamilton  holds  back  from  this  conclusion,  but  seems  often  in 
part  to  sanction  it  when  he  insists  that  all  knowledge  is  relative  to  our  faculties  and  that  many  funda- 
mental relations  are  only  necessary  from  the  impotence  of  our  powers,  i.  e.,  necessary  to  us  only  as  w 
are  human,  and  relatively  to  this  human  constitution. 

§  651.  It  is  serious  error  to  class  among  the  attributes  ol 
matter  the  capacity  to  be  perceived  or  known.  The  possi- 
bility of  being  perceived  *s  in  itself  no  attribute  of  matter 
in  the  sense  of  causative  power.  To  perceive  is  an  act  of  the  mind. 
The  causative  energy  and  the  capacity  which  fits  for  it,  both  pertain  to 
this  mind  alone.  The  matter,  so  far  as  perceived,  acts  neither  upon  the 
body  nor  the  soul.  The  matter  is,  i.  &,  exists,  and  is  known  to  be.  Nor 
is  it  correct  to  say,  that  it  is  known  only  as  the  cause  of  the  sensations 
which  the  soul  suffers  or  receives ;  making  it  to  be  known  only  as  the 
unknown  cause  of  a  felt  effect.  We  should  rather  say,  it  is  known  to  oe 
and  known  as  causing  these  sensations,  i.  e.,  is  known  to  be  and  to  be  caus- 
ally related,  cf.  §  49. 

In  that  complex  state  which  we  call  sense-perception,  in  which  the  activity  of  the  soul  as 
knowing  is  blended  with  the  passivity  of  the  soul  as  sentient,  we  cannot  indeed  separate  the 
object  which  is  known  from  the  state  which  is  suffered,  but  that  the  two  are  diverse  we  know, 
and  that  objective  reality  belongs  to  the  one  and  subjective  transitoriness  to  the  other,  we  are 
also  certain.  Space  is  a  reality,  and  so  are  the  spatial  relations  of  the  object  known.  The 
apprehension  of  being  is  conditioned  by  the  presence  of  matter  acting  on  the  sensorium  and 
the  sentient  mind.  But  neither  the  mind's  state  of  knowing  nor  the  object  as  known  are  the 
product  of  the  causative  powers  of  matter  acting  alone  or  in  conjunction  with  other  causative 
powers  of  the  mind.  To  know  is  an  act,  and  is  simply  to  be  certain  that  its  object  is,  even 
though  that  object  also  is  known  to  be  acting  on  the  agent  which  perceives  or  knows. 

Besides  the  relations  of  material  substances  to  the  animated  and  ensouled  body,  there  is  a 
class  of.  relations  which  it  holds  to  other  bodies.  These  are  its  powers  to  produce  effects  in 
or  upon  them.  They  comprehend  all  the  properties  of  matter  whatever,  whether  mechanical, 
chemical,  or  organic,  which  have  as  yet  been  discovered,  or  which  science  may  in  future  unfold. 
That  all  these  attributes  are  comprehended  under  the  causal  relation  is  too  obvious  to  need 
Illustration  or  proof. 

§  652.  Many  of  these  are  called  not  the  attributes  of  matter, 
properties  of  but  simply  its  properties,  for  the  reason  that  they  are  not 

required  to  define  and  distinguish  it  from  other  kinds  of 
being.  They  are  not  involved  in  the  essence  of  the  notion  matter.  They 
are  not  revealed  by  the  analysis  of  this  notion,  but  are  either  superinduced 
upon  its  content  by  the  processes  of  induction  and  observation,  or  are 
perhaps  deduced  from  its  original  and  essential  constituents,  or  from  what 
these  constituents  involve  in  the  way  of  necessary  inference  when  coupled 
with  the  enlarged  knowledge  repecting  them  which  induction  gives. 


630  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  653., 

The  relations  considered  thus  far  are  those  of  space  and  causation. 
The  analysis  has  established  our  definition  of  material  substance  to  be 
correct,  viz.,  that  it  is  a  being  having  a  definite  form  or  outline,  (involv* 
ing  relations  to  space  or  other  bodies  existing  in  space?)  occupying  exclu 
sively  some  portion  of  space,  (involving  space-relations?)  and  productive 
of  specific  sensations  in  the  sentient  soul  on  occasion  of  which  it  is  known 
to  be,  (involving  relations  of  causation}. 

These  attributes  ^  *s  furtner  *°  ^e  observed  that  this  complex  or  collection  of  relations  does 
distinguish  and  not  constitute  material  substance.  The  so-called  u  collection  of  attributes " 
11*0 1  ^constitute  which  Locke,  and  Hume,  and  Brown,  and  J.  Mill  speak  of,  do  not  by  their 
n.atter.  union  or  unition  make  matter  to  become  substance;  they  simply  indicate  that 

it  is  a  material  substance.  They  are  relations  which  define  and  distinguish  it  as  such.  They 
constitute  its  logical  essence  only.  They  make  up  the  content  of  the  complex  notion  called 
material  substcance.  They  constitute  the  concept  which  we  affirm  of  all  matter,  but  they  do 
not  constitute  material  substance  itself.  Even  simple  notions,  as  red  and  white,  suppose  the 
reality  to  be  known  which  they  generalize,  and  can  only  be  interpreted  by  that  real  knowledge 
of  their  import  which  is  obtained  by  sense-perception.  The  union  of  these  constituents  into 
a  complex  notion  does  not  dispense  with  a  similar  reference  to  real  knowledge.  The  same  is 
true  of  the  element  being  which  is  implied  in  such  definition.  Being,  like  every  other  simple 
notion,  cannot  be  denned ;  but  it  does  not  follow,  as  we  have  already  seen,  §  544,  that  it  can- 
not  be  known  and  understood.  To  know  and  explain  it,  we  need  only  refer  to  what  we  do 
and  gain  in  every  act  of  direct  or  real  knowledge.  By  a  reference  to  this  experience,  we  ex- 
plain the  meaning  of  the  notion,  and  of  the  word. 

§  653.  A  material  substance  has  been  defined  as  exclusively 
tioncby  mST  occupying  a  portion  of  space.  It  is  not  required  that  this 

portion  of  space  should  be  of  any  definite  size  or  dimensions. 
A  grain  of  sand  is  a  material  substance,  so  is  a  huge  mass  of  sand-stone. 
So  is  a  mass  of  water  or  the  indefinitely  expanded  atmosphere.  All  that  is 
required  is,  that  the  mass,  be  it  greater  or  smaller,  should  be  so  fixed  and 
held  together  in  its  parts  as  to  occupy  continuously  their  defined  limits. 
The  continuity  of  parts  is  of  more  importance  than  the  continuity  of  de- 
finite outline.  This  continuity  or  coherence  of  parts  is  maintained  in 
different  substances  by  different  agencies.  The  constituent  parts  may  be 
held  together  by  simple  mechanical  aggregation  under  the  force  of  cohe- 
sive attraction.  They  may  be  held  more  closely  by  the  polar  force  of 
crystalline  arrangement.  They  may  be  united  still  more  intimately  under 
the  laws  of  chemical  affinity.  They  may  be  combined  and  assimilated 
into  the  forms  and  products  of  organic  existence ;  or  the  substance  may 
be  conceived  as  an  ultimate  molecule,  or  monadical  cell.  Every  being, 
that  is  one  and  continuous,  of  whatever  size,  in  whatever  form,  or  held  by 
whatever  bond  of  union,  is  a  materia*  substance. 

A  certain  continuity  in  time  or  permanence  is  also  required  as  a  defining 
Permanence    ol     characteristic  of  substance,  or  is  implied  in  its  definition.     This  integrity  of 
tne  wnole  is  presumed  as  having  continued  and  as  likely  to  continue  for 
some  considerable  period,  or  the  being  indicated  would  scarcely  be  called  a 


§654.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE  I    MIND   AND   MATTER.  631 

substance.  It  certainly  would  not  be  worth  noticing  by  defining  attributes  if  it  did  not  sc 
remain.  There  are  certain  chemical  substances  that  only  remain  solid  under  extreme  cold 
and  pressure.  Of  these  perhaps  the  most  conspicuous  is  carbonic  acid  gas^  which  when 
made  solid  has  definite  and  peculiar  attributes.  Were  it  not  that  it  can  be  constantly  produced 
from  materials  and  by  processes  within  the  reach  of  every  chemist,  it  would  not  be  known  or 
named  at  all.  What  this  so-called  substance  is  to  its  constituent  elements  and  laws,  every 
organic  being  is  to  the  agencies  that  sustain  it  in  its  continued  existence  and  functions 
Whether  it  be  the  ephemeris  that  exists  for  an  hour  or  the  elephant  that  survives  a  century, 
the  animal  structure  is  sustained  by  food  and  air,  etc.  When  these  decay  or  the  capacity  to 
appropriate  them  fails,  the  elements  take  another  form  as  truly  as  do  those  of  the  solidified 
carbonic  acid,  or  of  the  fitful  globule  of  potassium.  So  is  it  with  the  tiny  plant  of  a  week, 
with  the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  and  the  yew  that  counts  its  age  by  centuries.  They  exist  by  the 
conspiring  and  sustaining  force  of  the  whole  of  the  globe  which  gives  a  standing  place  and 
food,  of  the  surrounding  atmosphere  which  furnishes  moisture  and  gaseous  pabulum,  and  the 
sun  which  directly  imparts  its  stimulating  light  and  heat,  and  indirectly  controls  the  rain  and 
the  dew. 

§  654.  The  relative  permanence  of  material  substance  ex- 
plams  *^e  possibility  of  its  identity.  Identity  in  such  a  sub- 
stance may  pertain  to  the  constituent  elements  only,  or  to 
the  form  only,  or  to  the  uniting  force,  or  it  may  be  applied  to  the  connec- 
tion of  one  part  with  another  in  a  series  of  changes  which  involve  a  total 
alteration  of  both  constituents  and  form.  Thus  if  the  same  particles 
remain  united  in  the  same  form  by  mechanical  aggregation,  the  substance 
is  eminently  the  same;  the  only  diversity  in  such  a  case  being  that  of 
relation  to  the  person  affirming  it  —  a  diversity  of  time  or  place  or  both. 
Should  the  constituents  remain  the  same  and  the  form  be  changed, 
it  would  be  called  the  same,  because  the  constituents  are  viewed  as 
more  important  than  the  form.  If  the  external  form  is  changed  by 
growth  or  development,  as  in  plants  or  animals,  the  force  that  unites 
the  parts  is  regarded  as  making  them  a  substance.  If  the  parts  of  a 
knife  or  a  snip  are  displaced  and  replaced  by  successive  removals  and 
substitutions  while  the  form  and  functions  are  retained,  the  substance  is 
Btill  called  the  same  by  a  loose  analogy  taken  from  living  agents  and  their 
gradual  accretion  and  growth. 

Still  further  :  the  material  substance  thus  defined  is  only  the  general  notion 
material      sub-     of  substance,  which  is  equally  applicable  to  every  individual  substance.     But 


fined!  :H°Wde  can  we  not  define  an  individual  substance?  The  nearest  approach  to  such 
a  definition  is  by  means  of  the  relations  of  both  time  and  space  conjoined. 
An  individual  material  substance  is  a  being  occupying  exclusively  a  portion  of  space  at  a  given 
portion  of  time.  Either  of  these  relations  alone,  as  is  obvious,  is  general  and  applicable  to  any 
material  substance,  but  both  together  can  only  be  affirmed  of  a  single  one.  These  two  give 
the  principle  or  definition  of  individuation  so  far  as  it  can  be  accomplished  by  general  or 
common  relations.  The  adjective  this  indicates  the  same,  for  the  service  of  language;  hence 
the  speculations  of  the  schoolmen  respecting  the  hcecceitas  of  any  existing  thing;  which  they 
Bought  to  ireat  as  a  generalized  attribute.  The  relations  to  the  ego  of  the  mental  acts  and 
states  of  which  the  individual  is  directly  conscious,  in  a  similar  sense  individualize  the  con- 
leption  of  mental  substance,  evidencing  its  reality  and  explaining  its  meaning. 


632  THE   HUMAN   INi'ELLEOT.  §656. 

8  655.   We  have  seen  that  a  change  in  form  and  structure  01 

The  production     ' °  .  .  ° 

of  new  sub-  both,  involves  the  production  01  a  new  substance,  because  it 
involves  the  production  of  relations  which  clearly  distinguish 
such  a  substance.  A  living  being,  as  an  animal,  consists  in  part  of  cer- 
tain material  particles  or  elements.  If  a  succession  of  changes  or  de- 
compositions and  recompositions  could  go  on  before  our  eyes,  so  that  we 
could  trace  the  same  particles  back  through  every  form  in  which  they  can 
possibly  exist,  through  plant,  mineral,  earth,  air,  water,  and  in  every  pos- 
sible form  of  chemical  and  crystalline  combination,  till  we  had  reached  the 
ultimate  molecules,  or  elements  of  all  and  of  each,  we  should  evolve  a 
series  of  substances,  one  after  another,  in  a  consecutive  order  of  gradation. 

But  the-  simplest  elements,  the  ultimate  particles,  would  still  be  substances 
intimate  parti-  with  attributes  with  which  they  must  still  exist,  and  from  which  they  could 
eles  or  elements.  neyer  in  fact  be  parted>  Tnoge  who  geek  an  mterjor  substance,  constituting 

the  nucleus  or  core  of  the  outer,  are  misled  by  a  secondary  use  of  the  word. 
If  a  momentary  form  of  being  is  resolved  into  its  more  permanent  constituents,  these  often  are 
called  its  substance,  and  so  in  general  those  forces  and  laws  which  are  relatively  permanent 
are  called  by  eminence  substantial  and  real.  These  are  ordinarily  solid,  compact,  and  tangible, 
in  contrast  with  the  loosely-cohesive,  the  diffused,  and  impalpable.  For  this  reason  the  former 
are  counted  substantial.  The  more  fixed  and  permanent  are  usually  more  obvious  to  the 
grosser  senses,  especially  the  sense  of  touch,  which  for  so  many  reasons  is  the  leading  sense. 
The  case  of  solidified  carbonic  acid  is  an  exception  to  this  rule,  and  it  shows  that  such  an  ap- 
plication of  the  word  substance  is  accidental  only,  and  riot  solidly  grounded. 

In  assuming  or  seeking  for  such  a  substance  philosophers  have  lost  sight  of  the  philo- 
The  real  Essence  sophical  conception  of  substance  and  have  substituted  in  its  place  one  that  is  narrower 
the>hirShy  in  and  Purely  accidental.  When  Locke,  for  example,  speaks  of  the  real  essence  as  "  that 
itself.  '  real  constitution  of  any  thing,  which  is  the  foundation  of  those  properties  that  are 

combined  in,  and  are  constantly  found  to  co-exist  with  the  nominal  essence ;  that  par- 
ticular constitution,  which  every  thing  has  within  itself,  without  any  relation  to  any  thing  without," 
the  real  essence  here  supposed,  if  it  is  a  constitution  of  any  thing  on  which  its  properties  depend,  must  be 
either  itself  one  or  more  material  force  or  agent,  or  its  properties  or  laws — i.  e.,  it  must  be  itself  matter  or 
the  relations  of  matter.  If  it  is  matter,  it  is  still  substance  with  attributes.  If  it  is  a  relation  of  matter,  it 
is  an  attribute  requiring  a  substance  of  which  it  may  be  affirmed.  On  either  supposition  this  real  constitu- 
tion of  a  thing  on  which  its  properties  depend,  leaves  us  as  far  as  ever  from  attaining  to  an  interior  sub- 
stance fty  itself.  Whether  or  not  Locke  would  have  allowed  that  he  intended  by  his  "  real  essence"  what 
he  elsewhere  calls  " substance,"  it  is  evident  that  all  who  conceive  a  substance  to  "underlie"  the  attri- 
butes, and  who  make  efforts  to  "unearth  "  it,  can  have  no  other  conception  of  it,  than  some  "fixed  consti- 
tution" on  which  these  attributes  depend.  The  " underlying  substance"  of  the  schools,  the  " thing  in  it- 
self''  of  Kant,  are  mere  names,  which  signify  either  being  in  the  abstract  or  beingin  the  concrete.  If  it  is 
being  in  the  abstract,  then  it  must  be  synonymous  with  matter  as  know-able,  i.  e.,  it  is  a  concept  only  which 
can  be  separate  from  its  relations  in  thought  but  never  in  fact.  If  it  is  being  in  the  concrete,  then  this 
muftt  be  known  with  its  relations  and  never  apart  f  om  them.  In  either  case  the  substance  or  thing  in 
itse\f,  cannot  he  known  ly  itself. 

A  material  sub-  §  ^56.  It  is  not  essential  to  a  material  substance  that  it  be 
Ftancenotneces-  independent  or  self-subsistent.  This  was  insisted  on  by 

sanly  mdepend-  * 

ent-  Spinoza,  who  defines  substance  to  be  "  that  which  exists  and 

is  conceived  by  itself"  "  Per  siibstantiam  intelligo  id  quod  in  se  est  et 
per  se  concipitur ;  hoc  est  id  cujus  conceptus  non  indiget  conceptu  alterius 
rei  a  quo  formari  debeat"  Ethices,  p.  i.  def.  3. 

From  this  definition  the  inference  was  direct  and  irresistible,  that  nc 


§657.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTKIBUTE  :    MIND   AND   MATTER.  633 

finite  substance  is  possible,  because  every  so-called  finite  material  substance 
is  produced  or  sustained  by  other  material  beings,  and  is  dependent  01? 
them  ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  but  one  such  substance,  and  that  is  the 
total  of  all  which  exist  —  the  universe  ;  this  totality  being  conceived  aa 
absolute  and  independent.  Locke  falls  into  a  similar  manner  of  speaking  in 
the  sentence  just  quoted,  when  he  speaks  of  the  constitution  "  which  everj 
thing  has  within  itself  without  any  relation  to  any  thing  without."  Simi- 
lar to  this  is  the  doctrine  of  Whewell,  that  substance  is  indestructible. 
"  The  supposition  of  the  existence  of  substance  is  so  far  from  being  uncer- 
tain, that  it  carries  with  it  irresistible  conviction,  and  substance  is  neces- 
sarily conceived  as  something  which  cannot  be  produced  or  destroyed." 
Hist,  of  Scient.  Ideas,  vol.  ii.  p.  32. 

Our  analysis  has  shown  that  a  material  substance  is  so  far  from  being  independent  of  other 
beings  and  forces,  that,  properly  speaking,  no  material  substance  is  in  any  sense  independent, 
or  can  be  conceived  to  be  so.  Every  material  substance  is  what  it  is  by  the  productive  or  sus- 
taining force  of  all  other  beings  and  forces  in  the  universe.  It  is  also  conceived  and  denned 
to  be  what  it  is  by  its  relations  to  these  forces,  'expressedly  and  impliedly.  It  cannot  exist  and 
cannot  be  denned  except  by  these  relations  to  other  beings  and  agencies.  The  solidified  car- 
bonic acid  is  no  more  truly  dependent  for  its  being  on  the  pressure  and  cold  that  hold  fast  ita 
constituents,  than  the  oak  that  for  centuries  has  thrust  its  roots  into  the  crevices  of  the 
eternal  rock,  or  than  the  rock  itself  or  the  solid  substance  of  the  earth,  are  dependent  upon 
the  agencies  that  hold  them  in  place,  and  conditionate  the  functions  of  each.  Modern  science 
has  impressed  this  lesson  upon  all  its  devotees,  that  the  one  lives  in  and  depends  upon  the  all, 
and  that  the  all  makes  itself  felt  in  the  one  also  :  that  nothing  in  the  universe  is  independent 
and  nothing  inconsiderable,  that  the  forces  and  laws  which  move  and  sway  the  whole;  produce, 
sustain,  develop,  and  destroy  every  individual. 

If  material  substance  is  dependent,  it  is  not  necessarily  indestructible.  If  the 
Not  indcstructi-  f°rces  which  sustain  it  are  withdrawn,  or  their  action  is  changed,  it  ceases  to 
We.  be,  or  ceases  to  be  the  same  substance  that  it  was.  It  may  be  an  induction 

which  is  well  grounded  in  observation,  that  the  ultimate  material  particles  or 
molecules  will  not  be  destroyed  ;  but  to  call  these  the  only  material  substances  is  to  use  the 
word  in  a  narrow  and  special  sense.  Our  belief  in  the  indestructibility  of  these  ultimate  parti- 
cles is  not  an  axiom,  but  is  founded  on  other  assumptions,  coupled  with  extended  observation 
of  facts  and  wide-reaching  analogies. 


our  belief  in  its  §  65^  ^^  vet  we  ^°  assume>  tnat  material  substances  are 
grounded  f^de-  permanent,  —  not  the  ultimate  particles  alone,  but  even  the 
8i&n-  continuous  forms  in  which  they  exist  and  perpetually  reap- 

pear. If  we  did  not  assume  this,  we  should  not  define  the  constituents  of 
either,  we  should  not  form  them  into  concepts,  or  apply  these  concepts  for 
the  ends  of  knowledge.  What  is  the  nature  and  what  are  the  grounds  of 
this  assumption  ?  In  its  nature  it  is  none  other  than  that  the  agencies  and 
laws  which  sustain  and  produce  them  will  remain,  at  least  till  they  have 
accomplished  the  ends  for  which  they  exist.  In  other  words,  it  is  only 
by  relations  of  orderly  design  that  we  can  explain  or  vindicate  that  belief 
in  the  permanence  of  the  material  structure  as  to  its  forms  of  being  and 
their  constituents  which  is  received  as  an  axiom  in  all  physical  or  inductive 


834  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §653, 

philosophy.  That  this  permanence  or  indestructibility  is  not  essential  01 
necessary,  that  it  cannot  be  viewed  as  of  itself  an  axiom,  appears  from 
the  broader  anc1  Deeper  axioms  into  which  it  may  be  resolved,  and  on 
which  it  rests. 

When  on  the  one  nand,  we  snow  that  all  things  which  seem  most  solid  and  permanent  in 
matter,  are  the  constant  products  of  the  elements  and  forces  which  bring  and  hold  them  together, 
we  seem  to  dissipate  all  substance  into  moving  aud  struggling  particles,  and  to  resolve  the  uni- 
verse itself  into  a  flux  of  changing  forces  :  Substance  is  dissipated  into  shadow,  and  the  solid 
earth  with  all  its  forms  of  being  and  of  life,  is  liable  to  be  disintegrated  into  chaos.  But 
when,  on  the  other  hand,  we  assume  design  to  control  and  fix  these  forces  and  laws,  we  pro- 
vide for  permanence  in  the  products  of  these  forces,  for  fixedness  in  material  substance,  and  in 
the  mind  which  interprets  material  being. 

There  are  philosophers  who  deny  that  there  are  permanent 
Beem  "to  s  deny  forms  or  elements  of  material  substance.  Such  believe  that 

nothing  is  fixed,  either  in  substance  or  attributes ;  that 
every  thing  in  the  universe  is  in  a  perpetual  flux,  that  the  law  of  develop- 
ment controls  all  existence,  so  that  one  form  and  species  of  being  is 
evolved  from  another — the  more  complex  from  the  more  simple — in  endless 
progression.  '  There  is  no  permanence  in  the  species  or  forms  of  organic 
matter,  or  among  living  beings,  but  the  tendency  to  development  creates 
new  forms,  and  these  again  others  still  more  complex  by  endless  change 
and  progress.  The  permanence  which  we  think  we  observe,  and  which 
we  recognize  in  language,  is  only  relative.  Compared  with  the  endless 
evolutions  of  ages,  it  is  brief  and  transitional.' 

The  grounds  alleged  for  this  dogma,  are  the  varieties  actually  observed  within  the  species 
and  forms  of  being  usually  considered  as  permanent  and  fixed,  and  the  extension  of  the  law 
supposed  to  be  thus  indicated  to  a  wider  range  of  supposed  deviations,  and  the  application  of 
it  on  a  scale  measured  by  the  lapse  of  enormous  periods  of  time.  One  relation  of  permanence 
in  nature  must,  however,  be  assumed  by  all  these  philosophers,  and  that  is,  the  permanence  of 
this  law  or  principle  of  development  itself.  If  it  be  assumed  from  the  limited  facts  and  obser- 
vations adduced,  that  this  law  of  development  has  prevailed  in  all  the  ages,  and  evolved  one 
form  of  being  after  another,  by  a  steady  progress  and  in  regular  order ;  then  the  permanence  of 
the  law  of  development  itself  must  be  referred  to  a  fixed  purpose  and  design  of  nature.  If  it 
is  accepted  as  the  product  of  induction,  induction  itself,  with  its  underlying  axioms  and  rules 
of  practice  rests  upon  assumed  design.  The  law  of  development  cannot,  therefore,  drive  the 
fact  of  design  out  of  the  universe,  nor  dispense  with  the  assumption  of  design  as  one  of 
the  axioms  pf  science. 

V.  The  mutual  relations  of  material  and  spiritual  substance  next  claim 
our  attention. 

2he  reciprocal  §  658.  This  is  a  subject  of  special  difficulty  and  importance. 
2riS°Md°iStI  Many  of  the  attributes  of  both  mind  and  matter  can  only  be 
oai  substance,  explained  and  understood  by  means  of  one  another.  The 
one  can  be  defined  and  known  only  by  the  other.  To  understand  and 
describe  the  one  we  must  make  use  ^f  the  other.  But  the  two  are  in  Rome 


§659,  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE  ;   MIND   AND   MATTER.  63* 

important  respects  very  unlike.  In  bringing  mind  and  matter  under  the 
categories  of  substance  and  attribute,  we  are  constantly  impelled  to  make 
prominent  the  features  which  are  common  to  both.  And  yet  it  is  herf 
most  essential  that  we  notice  the  points  in  which  they  are  especially  unlike. 
In  order  to  do  this  with  success,  we  must  first  consider  the  difference  be- 
tween the  direct  and  reflex  knowledge  of  both  matter  and  spirit,  to  which 
the  mind  is  competent. 

The  mind  knows  both  matter  and  mind  by  direct  and  reflex 

Mind  and  mat-  » 

knJwn!irectly  knowledge.  By  direct  knowledge  in  sense-perception,  it 
knows  matter  as  a  being,  i.  e.  the  object  of  its  knowing.  By 
direct  knowledge  in  consciousness,  it  knows  itself  as  the  agent  which 
knows  matter,  and  is  also  the  subject  of  certain  sensations.  It  knows 
both  these  objects  in  certain  relations.  It  knows  matter  not  only  to  exist, 
but  to  be  diverse  from  itself  the  knower,  and  to  be  extended :  it  knows 
itself  to  exist,  and  enduringly  to  feel  and  act.  The  relations  involved  in 
this  direct  knowledge  of  matter  and  mind  are  common  and  diverse,  and 
are  possible  by  their  respective  relations  to  space  and  time. 

Relations  of  causation  and  design  may  also  be  affirmed  of  both  matter 
and  mind,  while  each  is  the  object  of  the  mind's  direct  cognition.  Thus 
one  material  object  may  be  viewed  as  the  cause  of  a  change  in  another, 
and  even  of  the  existence  of  another  material  object.  Thus  the  mind 
itself,  as  objective  to  its  own  consciousness,  may  be  viewed  as  the  cause 
of  its  own  spiritual  states,  or  of  any  effects  that  are  known  or  seem  to  be 
within  the  reach  of  spiritual  activity,  whether  these  involve  efficiency  or 
design. 

The  attributes  of  matter  and  mind,  which  are  known  by  this  direct  knowl- 
edgeofboth.  edge,  are  easily  analyzed  and  understood.  But  when  mind  and  matter  are 
difficult^  '  ky  reflex  knowledge  viewed  in  their  mutual  relations ;  when  their  capacities 

to  hold  relations  to  one  another  or  to  act  upon  one  another  are  considered* 
then  the  analysis  becomes  difficult,  and  the  clear  expression  in  language  of  the  distinctions 
observed,  is  embarrassing.  The  two  objects  compared  must  be  placed  side  by  side  before  the 
comparing  mind,  by  an  act  of  indirect  or  reflex  knowledge.  In  order  to  this,  the  mind,  or 
rather  the  soul  which  is  compared  with  matter,  must  be  ideally  separated  from  the  intellect  that 
compares  the  two.  The  acts  and  powers  of  the  soul  must  be  considered  as  sentient  and  per- 
cipient.  We  have  seen  that  the  most  important  of  the  attributes  involved  are  those  of  causa- 
tion, and  that  the  attributes  of  matter  and  of  mind  which  are  to  be  determined,  are  their  capaci- 
ties to  produce  effects  upon  one  another.  But  what  kind  of  effects  ?  Effects  of  sensation 
only,  or  of  perception  also  ?  We  reply,  effects  of  sensation  only ;  for  perception  is  no  effect 
of  matter  upon  the  mind  or  soul  (§  651).  In  this  product  the  mind  only  is  active.  But 
matter,  when  it  is  compared  with  the  mind,  is  apprehended  as  the  cause  of  certain  sensations, 
and  its  capacities  to  produce  these  sensations,  define  its  attributes  or  qualities.  But  in  order 
to  be  known  with  attributes,  it  must  have  been  known,  by  direct  knowledge,  as  a  being. 

(Matter  known  §  659-  ^n  °tner  words,  in  sense-perception,  the  intellect 
must  know  something  more  than  effects,  viz.,  specific 
sensations,  as  of  touch,  sight,  etc.,  for  which  it  assumes  an 


$36  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

unknown  cause,  viz.,  the  producer  of  these  felt  effects,  and  invests  with 
attributes  accordingly  ;  for  in  this  same  sense-perception  it  knows  matter 
as  being  as  well  as  certain  effects  or  sensations  in  itself.  This  is  its  pre- 
rogative as  an  agent  competent  to  know.  It  not  only  knows  itself  and  those 
acts  and  objects,  that  are  purely  spiritual,  but  it  knows  material  objects 
also.  If  it  did  not  know  them  directly  as  beings,  it  could  not  know  them 
as  extended  or  as  diverse  from  itself,  or  as  causal  agents. 

The  process  of  inferring  them  as  unknown  causes  of  known  effects,  or  as  '  possibilities  of 
sensation,'  is  too  awkward  to  be  received,  and  is  beyond  the  capacities  of  the  infant  mind. 
They  must  be  known  by  direct  knowledge  as  beings  producing  sensations  if  the  mind, 
when  it  compares  the  one  agent  with  the  other  in  indirect  or  reflex  knowledge  and  applies 
to  both  the  category  of  causation,  is  to  be  assured  that  there  are  two  beings  whose  causative 
attributes  it  may  determine.  In  sense-perception,  the  mind  apprehends  matter  or  material 
being.  In  touch,  whether  viewed  as  a  special  sense  or  as  present  in  all  the  remaining  senses, 
the  mind  does  more  than  experience  hardness  which  is  intensified  into  a  painful  sensation  by 
pressure ;  it  does  more  than  experience  the  muscular  sensations  which  attend  the  use  of  the 
locomotive  or  muscular  power ;  it  knows  matter  as  being,  just  as  truly  as  it  knows  the  ego  zs 


These  beings  cannot  be  defined  as  beings,  because  we  define  by  relations  only. 
Being,  spiritual  We  speak  of  beingness  or  entity  as  a  relation,  only  by  a  forced  use  of  thought 
notTedefilled""  and  speech.  When  we  define  these  beings— the  ego  and  the  matter,  the 

spiritual  and  material  substance — we  use  only  their  common  and  several  rela- 
tions ;  we  recognize  their  attributes,  whether  these  are  relations  of  time  and  space,  or  of  causa- 
tion and  design.  But  we  assume  and  imply  their  being,  and  that  we  know  the  being  of  each 
by  direct  and  satisfying  knowledge.  If  we  did  not  know  them  both  to  be,  we  should  not  seek 
to  assign  their  respective  attributes  to  each.  We  should  not  seek  to  separate  the  agency  of 
each  in  the  effects  in  which  both  are  coefficient. 

We  say,  then,  without  reserve,  that  the  mind  in  sense-perception,  knows  matter  or  mate- 
rial being  as  truly  and  as  directly  as  in  consciousness  it  knows  the  ego,  or  mental  being. 

§  660.  These  two  beings  which  are  separated  and  distin- 
m  Itter  and  guished  from  one  another  by  the  dualistic  analysis  of  direct 
by  unity  of  knowledge,  are  again  united  as  one  by  the  synthesis  of  thought. 

First  of  all  they  are  united  as  beings  under  that  all-compre- 
hensive category,  and  second,  by  the  similarities  of  the  several  relations 
which  are  common  to  both.  The  unknown  and  fleeting  material  substance 
that  has  eluded  the  definitions  of  philosophers,  is  the  something  which  is 
known  in  every  act  of  sense-perception:  which  is  defined,  indeed,  by 
means  of  the  relations  of  sense  and  of  thought ;  but  is  not  the  less,  but 
the  more  necessarily  assumed  to  be.  It  is  true,  the  most  important  of  the 
relations  of  matter  are  its  relations  to  the  soul  itself,  and  the  most  ob- 
trusive of  the  affections  of  the  soul  are  its  sensations,  but  the  soul,  as 
intellect,  has  and  discerns  other  relations  than  these.  It  is  more  than  a 
conscious  receiver  of  sensations.  It  has  the  power,  by  direct  cognition, 
fco  know  matter  and  spirit  in  higher-  relations  than  those  of  sense.  It  can 
know  them  in  their  respective  relations  to  space  and  time,  and,  above  all, 
it  can  unite  them  as  adapted  to  one  another  in  a  common  design.  Both 


SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTEIBUTE :    MIND   AND   MATTER.  637 

matter  and  spirit  have  certain  common  and  separate  relations  to  tinw 
and  space,  either  in  their  acts  or  objects.  Each,  also,  is  known  by  rela- 
tions of  causation,  material  being  by  its  relations  to  the  soul  as  sentient, 
giving  sensible  qualities ;  psychical  being  by  spiritual  acts  and  states,  and 
also  by  its  capacities  to  be  acted  on  through  the  body  in  sensation,  and 
to  act  upon  it  in  motion.  They  have  relations  to  other  material  and 
mental  beings.  These  beings,  as  defined  by  these  relations,  are  called  sub- 
stances ;  for  each  holds  a  permanent  existence  and  permanent  relations  to 
the  other  in  the  designs  of  nature  and  of  God. 

This  analysis  enables  us  to  understand  the  possibility  of  a  difference  in  the  attributes  of 
matter,  and  especially  the  division  of  these  qualities  into  primary  and  secondary. 

VL   The  Primary  and  Secondary  qualities  of  Matter. 

§  66T.    The  qualities  of  matter  have  been  divided  into  two  classes,  Primary  and  8eo 

Twofold         and      ondary ;  and  into  three,  Primary,  Secundo-Primary  and  Secondary.     Others  ha*e  de- 

threefold  classi-     nied  that  there  was  any  ground  fof  dividing  them  at  all,  contending  that  there  is  no 

reason  for  recognizing  more  than  a  single  class.    The  older  Greek  philosophers— the 

Atomisls— distinguished  the  qualities  of  hot  and  cold,  sweet  and  bitter,  and  of  color  etc., 

as  experienced  by  the  soul; from  the  capacity  in  bodies  to  produce  them.    The  quality  in  the  body,  in  all 

these  cases,  they  contended  was  some  particular  configuration  of  atoms. 

Aristotle,  by  applying  the  distinction  between  an  object  in  capacity,  ev  fivvdjitei,  and  an 
object  in  act,  ev  evepyiq,  was  led  to  distinctly  recognize  many  of  those  which  were  after 
classification.  wards  called  secondary  qualities,  as  simply  capacities  in  objects  to  produce  by  act  sen- 

sations in  the  soul.  In  other  words,  they  were  recognized  as  powers,  or,  in  modern 
phrase,  they  were  relegated  to  the  category  of  causation.  But  Aristotle  distinguishes 
between  common  and  proper  sensibles,  aurflijra  KOIVO.  <eal  t5ia.  Of  the  first  he  enumerates  five  :  Magnitude 
(Extension),  Figure,  Motion,  Rest  and  Number.  These  are  simplified  still  further  by  him  into  one  or  two, 
of  which  motion  is  preeminent,  or,  as  some  of  his  interpreters  contend,  is  all-comprehensive.  Whether  the 
common  sensibles  are  apprehended  by  sense  he  would  make  a  question,  and  this  question  was  abundantly 
discussed  by  tha  later  Aristotelians.  That  they  are  qualities  of  matter  he  would  not  doubt  in  the  least, 
and  that  they  correspond  to  the  Primary  qualities  of  his  predecessors,  there  can  be  no  question. 

Descartes  distinguishes  the  two  classes  as  follows  :  (1)  Magnitude,  Figure,  Motion,  Situa- 
tion, Duration,  and  Number,  etc.,  etc.,  are  clearly  perceived ;  (2)  Color,  Pain,  Odor,  and 
cartes  ^  Taste  are  Perceived  in  a  very  different  manner.    Of  qualities  of  tbe  first  class  we  have 

an  idea  as  they  are  or  may  be  in  fact  or  reality  (ut  sunt  aut  saltern  esse  possuni).  Of 
those  of  the  second  we  have  only  an  obscure  and  confused  conception  of  something  v  hich 
occasions  the  appropriate  sensation.  These  are  nothing  but  certain  arrangements  of  size,  figure,  ana  mo- 
tion (dispositiones  quasdam  in  Magnitudine,  Figura  et  Motu  consistentes).  Of  the  one  we  have  an  idert,  of 
the  other  a  sensation.  The  essence  of  matter,  according  to  Descartes,  consists  of  extension,  as  that  of  mind 
consists  of  thought  Of  course  the  knowledge  of  extension  is  the.  knowledge  of  matter  as  it  is;  whiln  the 
knowledge  of  every  thing  else  concerning  matter,  viz.,  its  qualities  or  properties,  must  be  of  what  it  16  in 
relation  to  the  mind,  i.  e.,  to  its  thoughts,  in  the  sense  of  Descartes,  i.  e.,  to  its  sensations. 

§  662.    The  doctrine  of  Locke  may  be  stated  in  the  following  propositions  : 
(a.)  A  Quality  in  a  body  is  its  power  to  produce  ideas  in  us. 

^     (6.)  Primary  qualities  are  such  as  are  absolutely  inseparable  from  a  body  in  whatever 
state  it  may  be.    They  are  such  as  are  essential  to  the  very  idea  of  matter.   These  original 
primary  qualities  are  Solidity,  Extension,  Figure,  Motion  or  Best  and  Number.      (B.  II. 
c.  8,  §  9.)    To  this  he  adds,  in  another  place,  Bulk.    By  Number,  Hamilton  supposes  he  means  divisibility 
of  the  constituent  parts.    The  ideas  of  these  qualities  are  resemblances  of  them,  and  their  patterns  da 
really  exist  in  the  bodies  themselves. 

(c.)  Secondary  qualities  are  not  essential  to  the  idea  of  matter  ;  matter  can  be  conceived  to  exist  with- 
o  i'.  them.  Moreover,  they  are  powers  to  produce  various  sensations  in  us  by  means  of  the  primary  qual- 
ities, i.  e.,  by  the  bulk,  figure,  texture  and  motion  of  their  insensible  parts,  as  colors,  sounds,  tastes,  etc.,  eto. 
•«  The  ideas  [i.  e.,  sensations]  produced  in  us  by  these  secondary  qualities  have  no  resemblance  of  them  at  all." 
These  divisions  and  definitions  are  peculiar  in  the  arrangement  which  they  make  in  the  qualities  enu- 
merated under  each  class,  but  preeminently  in  that  they  involve  a  physical  theory,  not  unlike  that  Df  ths 


638  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  666 

ancient  Atomists,  that  the  secondary  qualities  can  be  explained  by  certain  relations  and  motions  of  th« 
primary  qualities.  They  involve  Locke's  peculiar  theory  of  knowledge  as  consisting  in  the  apprehension 
of  resemblances  to  or  between  ideas.  Berkeley  and  Hume  both  rejected  Locke's  distinction  of  primary  and 
secondary  qualities,  when  they  limited  our  knowledge  of  matter  to  that  of  ideas  only,  by  a  more  rigit 
applica  tion  of  his  definition  of  knowledge. 

§  663.    Reid,  in  his  Inquiry,  enumerates  as  primary  qualities,  Extension,  Figure,  Mo- 
tion, Hardness  and  Softness,  Roughness  and  Smoothness  ;  in  his  Essays,  Extension,  Divisi- 
Of  Reid.  bility,  Figure,  Motion,  Solidity,  Hardness,  Softness,  and  Fluidity   as  so  called  by  Locke. 

Laying  out  of  view  the  questions  which  might  arise  in  respect  to  the  meaning  of  some 
of  the  terms  here  used,  as  the  different  import  of  solidity  and  hardness,  we  observe 
that  Reid  holds  with  Descartes  that  our  notions  of  the  primary  qualities  are  clear  and  distinct,  and  of  the 
secondary  are  obscure  and  confused,  and  with  Descartes  and  Locke,  that  the  primary  give  a  knowledge  of 
objects,  i.  e.,  qualities  in  themselves,  while  the  second  gives  us  a  knowledge  of  the  unknown  causes  of 
subjective  affections  of  the  soul.  Our  knowledge  of  the  first  is  therefore  direct,  of  the  second  is  relative. 

%  664.    Dugald  Stewart  distinguishes  the  primary  qualities  into  two  classes,  the  matht- 

matical  affections  of  matter,  which  are  extension  and  figure,  and  the  proper  primary 

Stewart.  qualities,  which  are  hardness,  softness,  roughness,  and  smoothness.    These  two  classes  of 

primary  qualities  involve  extension  and  outness  or  externality.    The  secondary  are  only 

the  unknown  causes  of  known  sensations.    "When  first  apprehended  by  the  mind  they 

do  not  imply  any  thing  distinct  from  the  states  of  the  soul.    The  unknown  cause  is  afterwards,  as  in  the 

case  of  color,  so  intimately  associated  with  the  subjective  sensation,  that  the  sensation  itself  is  taken  to 

involve  extension,  and  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  believe  that  there  can  be  sensations  of  color  without 

perceived  extension.    Phil,  Essays. 

§  665.    Hamilton  divides  the  qualities  of  matter  into  three  classes,  the  Primary,  the 
Secundo- Primary,  and  the  Secondary.    The  primary  include  all  the  relations  of  matter 
Hamilton  *         L     *°  sPace>  l'-  e->  ^e  relations  of  extension.    These  may  be  stated  under  two  general 
heads — the  relations  of  matter  as  filling  space,  and  as  contained  in  space.    Matter,  as 
filling  space,  is  extended  in  three  dimensions  and  is  incompressible.    Matter,  as  con- 
tained in  space,  is  capable  of  motion  and  place. 

The  primary  qualities  are  simply  objective,  and  though  given  on  condition  of  sensation 
The  Primary  are  percepts  proper,  gained  by  pure  mental  apprehension  ;  no  sensation  or  relation  to 
and  Secundo-  sensation  being  involved  in  the  notion  which  we  form  of  them. 

1  rimary.  r^e  secun^0.primary  are  an  comprehended  under  Resistance  or  pressure,  and  may 

be  defined  as  the  various  capacities  of  Resistance.  These  are  comprehended  under  the 
several  heads  of  Gravity  and  Cohesion,  Repulsion  and  Inertia.  They  are  both  objective  and  subjective. 
As  objective  they  resist  the  locomotive  energy,  and  are  apprehended  as  resisting  it  in  various  degrees.  As 
subjective  they  affect  the  sentient  organism  with  various  sensations  of  pressure.  In  the  secundo-primary 
a  sensation,  viz.,  of  pressure,  is  the  concomitant  of  the  perception,  viz.,  of  resistance  to  the  locomotive  en- 
ergies. The  term  hardness  denotes  a  resistance  of  which  we  are  conscious,  and  a  certain  feeling  from 
pressure  on  the  organism.  The  former,  a  perception,  is  wholly  different  from  the  latter,  a  sensation. 

The  secondary  are  not  properly  qualities  of  body  at  all.  "We  know  only  the  several 
sensations  and  we  infer  some  power  in  the  body  which  produces  them.  These  sensa- 
tions,  as  consciously  experienced,  are,  however,  not  purely  subjective  or  spiritual  state* 
without  extension,  but  affections  of  the  sentient  and  animated  organism,  which  is  knowii 
in  sensation  to  be  extended.  Each  of  these  affections  depends  entirely  on  the  excite- 
ment of  the  nervous  organism  from  any  stimulus,  as  electric  action,  congestion  of  the  nerves,  pressure  or  a 
blow  ;  and  the  reference  of  it  to  any  perceived  body  is  purely  inductive  and  experiential.  The  sensations 
to  which  these  unknown  or  occult  powers  in  bodies  are  supplied, are  Color,  Sound,  Flavor,  Savor  and  Tactual 
sensation,  and  all  those  which  we  have  described  as  the  Muscular  and  Organic  sensations.  The  secondary 
qualities  are  powers  inferred  frora  sensation. 

In  respect  to  the  relation  of  these  three  classes  of  attributes  to  the  notion  of  matter, 
The  relation  of     Hamilton  asserts  that  the  primary  only  are  absolutely  essential  to  the  notion  of  matter, 
the  three  to  the     and  these  all  rest  upon  the  d  priori  and  necessary  idea  of  space,  and  can  be  deduced 
notion  of  matter.     from  it.    The  secundo-primary  qualities,  generalized  as  Hardness  known  through  pres- 
sure, are  not  essential  to  the  concept  of  matter.    They  are,  moreover,  known  by  ob- 
servation and  not  deduced  d  priori.    They  are  not,  therefore,  known  as  necessary  but  as  contingent.    They 
are  not,  therefore,  essential  to  the  notion  of  matter,  though  they  are  believed  to  be  its  invariable  accompa- 
niment.   The  secondary  qualities  are  obviously  d  fortiori  not  essential  to  the  conception  of  matter. 
In  critically  estimating  these  theories  by  the  aid  of  our  analysis  in  §§  650-660,  we  observe  : 

§  666.  1 .  There  is  a  general  agreement  in  the  opinion,  that  if  there  are  any  attributes  of 
The  Primary  matter  which  are  known  directly  by  the  mind,  and  which  as  known  do  not  involve  any 
lualities  "distin-  relation  to  the  sensations  which  attend  them,  these  may  be  properly  called  primary 
qualities.  If  also  there  are  powers  in  matter  to  produce  sensations  as  effects  in  th« 
soul  as  a  sentient,  these  are  secondary  qualities. 


§668.  SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE  I    MIND   AND   MATTER.  639 

The  principle  of  the  division  is  obviously  so  just  and  the  application  of  it  so  easy  that  the  only  quest 
tlon  which  we  need  ask  is,  Can  these  two  classes  of  attributes  be  distinguished  in  fact  ] 

The  analysis  already  made  has  shown  that  they  can.  The  relations  of  matter  to  :ipace,  in  its  doubl« 
form  of  the  space-limited  and  the  space-filling,  do  not  in  their  matter  or  content,  as  known  by  the  mind, 
involve  the  recognition  of  any  sensation.  On  the  other  hand,  the  powers  of  matter  to  produce  certain 
sensations  of  touch,  sight,  smell,  taste,  and  sound,  can  only  be  known  by  considering  the  sensations  them- 
selves as  caused  by  these  powers.  Of  the  first  class  we  have  direct  and  positive  knowledge.  Of  the  second 
our  knowledge  is  indirect  and  relative,  it  being  explained  by  the  effects. 

2.  Is  there  now  an  intermediate  or  third  class  of  material  qualities,  the  secundo-primary, 
The  Secundo-  such  as  that  for  which  Hamilton  contends,  in  which  the  perceptional  and  sensational 
isf!™torUn0t  Ses-  elements  are  both  combined  ?  We  think  that  if  there  is,  Hamilton  has  failed  to  show 
tablishedf  ^  *>y  his  analysis.  The  passage  which  gives  the  results  of  this  analysis  most  briefly 

and  clearly  is  the  following :  "  The  secundo-primary  qualities  have  thus  always  two 
phases,  both  immediately  apprehended.  On  their  primary  or  objective  phasis  they  manifest  themselves  aa 
degrees  of  resistance  opposed  to  our  locomotive  energy  ;  on  their  secondary  or  subjective  phasis,  as  modes 
of  resistance  or  pressure  affecting  our  sentient  organism."  Reid's  Works,  note  D,  p.  848. 

The  "  locomotive  energy  "  or  "  the  locomotive  faculty  "  is  carefully  distinguished  by  Ham- 
ilton (p.  864)  from  the  muscular  sense.  He  calls  it  the  power  of  moving  the  muscles  at 
wll,  an&  conceives  that  it  might  exist  and  act  if  all  muscular  feeling  were  abolished. 
In  its  actual  exercise  he  analyzes  its  activities  into  three  elements  :  1.  As  a  pure  men- 
tal act  of  will  =  the  hyper-organic  volition  to  move.  2.  As  a  mental  effort  or  nisus  to 
move  —  the  enorganic  volition  of  which  we  are  immediately  conscious.  3.  As  the  contraction  of  the  mus- 
cles =•  the  organic  movement  or  the  organic  nisus.  , 

Of  this  we  observe,  that  this  locomotive  energy  or  faculty  as  known  to  itself  by  effort  and  degrees  of 
resistance,  is  either  purely  spiritual  or  sensational  or  both.  If  it  is  purely  mental,  then  the  mind  knowa 
of  a  mental  purpose  and  effort  to  move  either  something  already  known  as  objective,  or  its  own  organism 
known  as  such.  If  it  be  of  something  objective  to  the  organism,  then  the  degrees  of  its  refusal  to  move 
must  be  measured  either  by  the  greater  or  smaller  displacement  or  change  of  its  space  relations,  in  which 
case  degrees  of  resistance  would  be  estimated  by  objectively  discerned  changes  in  space-relations ;  or  by  some 
relation  of  the  object  to  pure  mental  effort,  in  which  case  resistance  in  matter  would  be  defined  and  con- 
ceived only  by  its  relation  to  a  purely  mental  effect,  viz.,  resistance  to  mental  effort,  which  would  involve  a 
phasis  eminently  subjective.  If  the  object  be  the  organism,  then  the  resistance  of  the  organism  must  be 
measured  in  the  same  way,  on  the  supposition  that  all  sensations  are  excluded. 

If  the  locomotive  energy  is  psychical  and  the  resistance  in  its  several  degrees  is  sensational,  then  we 
have  no  longer  a  pure  mental  apprehension,  either  of  objective  relations  of  space  or  of  relations  to  men- 
tal effort,  but  we  estimate  resistance  by  its  relations  to  experienced  sensations,  which  involves  a  subject- 
ive phasis  again  in  that  which  is  claimed  to  be  purely  objective. 

If  the  locomotive  energy  as  exerted  and  resisted  are  both  known  as  sensations,  or  are  known  by  means 
of  sensations,  then  the  phenomena  are  purely  subjective. 

In  general  the  power  in  matter  to  resist  mental  efforts  can  scarcely  be  considered  as  belonging  to  any 
class  except  the  secondary  qualities.  The  power  to  resist  the  locomotive  energy  is  distinguished  from 
the  power  to  produce  sensations,  only  by  the  kind  of  subjective  effect  which  it  produces.  The  one  is  no 
more  objective  than,  the  other. 

§  667.  There  is  still  an  element  in  matter  which  does  not  fall  within  either  of  the  two 
Matter  as  being,  ciasses  of  qualities,  and  which  Hamilton  seeks  to  provide  for  (unsuccessfully  as  we  have 
how^  rep*?mj;°  seen),  by  the  intermediate  class.  The  conviction  that  there  is  material  being  forcea 
qualifies.  itself  upon  every  mind,  and  gives  interest  to  the  problem  which  in  any  way  starts  the 

question,  '  What  is  that  something  ? '  What  then  is  it?  We  reply,  it  is  matter  as  being^ 
as  distinguished  from  its  relations  to  other  matter,  to  the  sentient  spirit,  or  to  space  or  time.  This  ia 
knowu  by  direct  "  mental  apprehension."  It  is  known  in  connection  with  felt  sensations  and  on  condition 
of  the  excited  or  impelled  sensorium.  It  is  known  as  being  and  also  as  causing  these  sensations,  not  aa 
though  its  being  was  only  known  through  or  by  relation  to  these  sensations,  but  it  is  directly  known  aa 
being  and  also  as  related  to  these  sensations  which  it  cause*.  When  it  is  not  merely  known  as  a  percept, 
but  is  also  defined  as  a  concept,  then  by  the  very  nature  of  the  concept,  it  can  be  expressed  and  defined  only 
by  its  relations  or  its  attributes.  (§652.)  These  give  us  logical  knowledge.  This  does  not  include,  nor 
can  it  stand  in  the  place  of  the  direct  knowledge  which  perception  alone  can  give,  and  imagination  can  re- 
vive.  This  can  suggest  what  that  would  be  and  hence  «an  in  a  most  important  sense  recall  and  imply  it 
But  the  knowledge  of  matter  of  being  is  not  included  in,  it  is  only  implied  by  the  statement  of  its  attri* 
butes.  What  the  mind  knows  in  its  perception  of  matter  can  never  be  conveyed  by  an  enumeration  of 
the  relations  or  attributes  of  what  is  thus  known. 

§  668.    Two  questions  remain  to  be  considered  in  respect  to  these  two  classes  of  qualities, 
rtil?    mainti0nS     (a')  Are  the  PrimaiT  qualities  distinguished  from  the  secondary  in  being  alone  essen. 
tial  to  the  conception  of  matter,  as  Locke  and  others  assert  ?    (6.)  Do  the  primary  qua! 
Ities  aloue  give  us  a  knowledge  of  matter  as  it  really  is,  and  as  distinguished  from  a  relative  knowledge  ? 


040  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §660 

In  reply  to  the  first,  it  is  enough  to  say,  that  if  we  distinguish  the  concept  or  notion  of 
Are  the  primary  matter  from  a  percept  or  image,  then  all  that  is  properly  essential  are  those  relation 
^ualities  essen-  or  qualities  which  are  required  to  define  and  distinguish  this  kind  of  being  from  eveiy 
tion  of  matter*?"  °ther  being.  It  is  of  course  implied  that  such  relations  are  always  true  of  this  kinJ  of 
being;  that  they  are  always  nrnsont,  ^ud  never  absent  in  a  single  individual.  Thia 
being  assumed,  we  have  only  to  *>«>  for  a,  sufficient  number  of  relations  to  serve  the  purposes  of  definition. 
It  is  obvious  that  for  this  single  object  no  other  are  necessary  than  the  relations  of  matter  to  space. 
These  are  always  present,  and  for  the  purposes  of  defining  the  concept  these  alone  are  required. 

But  this  cannot  be  all  that  is  intended  by  the  phrase  "  essential  to  the  notion  of  matter."  This  would 
suggest  a  question  like  this,  '  Can  matter,  i.  e.,  the  space-filling  and  space-contained  being — possibly  exist 
without  some  or  all  of  the  so-called  sensible  qualities,  viz.,  those  of  touch,  color,  smell,  sound  and  taste? 
This  question  suggests  its  own  answer,  as  follows :  We  cannot  believe  that  matter  is  not  tangible  to  a 
sentient  endowed  with  touch,  or  visible,  i.  e.,  colored  to  a  sentient  who  can  see.  That  matter  is  not  visible 
to  the  blind  is  an  unquestioned  fact.  But  suppose  he  could  see,  and  again  suppose  that  the  vision  of  those 
who  do  see  were  sufficiently  acute  to  enable  them  to  see  the  matter  of  gases,  and  the  like  1  Whether  there 
is  or  could  be  matter  which  is  wholly  divested  of  odor,  or  taste,  or  sound,  to  sentients  with  the  acutest  con- 
ceivable capacities  it  would  not  be  easy  to  decide,  but  it  is  quite  certain  that  we  can  conceive  [i.  e.,  ima- 
gine] it  to  exist  without  some  of  these  qualities  or  relations  to  our  own  sensibility.  If  we  employ  the 
question  in  its  more  general  meaning,  we  mean  by  "  essential  to  the  concept  of  matter  " — "  necessarily  in- 
volved or  implied  in  its  nature  or  constitution."  This  would  be  the  same  as  to  ask,  '  Can  there  be  a  per- 
manently space-filling  something  which  is  not  also  tangible,  visible,  audible?'  etc.  But  this  is  not  a 
logical,  or  psychological,  or  even  a  metaphysical  problem,  but  one  that  is  purely  physical — a  problem  which 
can  be  solved  by  extensive  observations  of  every  species  of  matter  and  a  more  penetrating  insight  into  it* 
powers  and  la^s  than  has  yet  been  reached.  Its  solution  must  be  left  with  the  physicists  to  whom  it  prop- 
erly belongs. 

§  669.  The  second  question  is  the  following  :  Is  it  true,  as  Keid  asserts,  that  our  knowl- 
edge of  the  primary  qualities  only  is  a  direct  and  real,  while  that  of  the  secondary  ia 
real  know^ed^e*  on^v  an  indirect  and  relative  knowledge  of  matter.  In  reply  to  this  much  agitated 
query,  it  seems  clear  that  the  knowledge  of  neither  class  of  qualities  as  such,  is  real, 
as  contrasted  with  relative  knowledge.  The  knowledge  of  qualities  of  every  sort  is,  as  we 
have  seen,  only  a  knowledge  of  relations,  and  it  consequently  can  only  be  relative  knowledge.  It  is  true 
the  two  classes  of  relations  are  different  by  reason  of  the  beings  to  which  they  are  related.  The  primary 
qualities  are  the  relations  of  matter  to  time  and  space  and  the  perceiving  mind.  The  secondary  and  se- 
cundo-primary  are  its  relations  to  the  sentient  soul.  The  first  are  discerned  by  the  intellect  only  an  I  Io 
not  require  that  any  felt  sensation  should  be  introduced.  The  second  require  that  the  sensations,  varying 
in  quality  and  intensity  with  each  individual  at  different  times,  should  be  considered.  The  primary  are 
apprehended  by  a  direct  cognition,  the  mind  looking  out  of  itself  at  its  objects.  The  secondary  involve  a 
reflex  process  by  which  the  mind  projects  before  its  comparing  judgment,  the  object,  viz.,  matter,  and  the 
subject,  viz.,  the  sentient  soul,  or  animated  body,  and  asks  and  answers  what  are  the  relations  of  the  one  to 
the  other.  While  then,  both  primary  and  secondary  lie  within  the  sphere  of  relations,  and  the  knowledge  of 
both  is  relative  only,  yet  the  objects  related  and  the  process  by  which  they  are  cognized  and  compared  is  in 
the  one  case  more  complicated  and  unnatural  than  it  is  in  the  other.  But  both  presume  a  real  being  which 
is  both  knowable  and  known  as  well  as  the  relations  of  this  being.  If  real  knowledge  is  contrasted  with, 
and  is  exclusive  of,  relative  knowledge,  then  neither  the  primary  nor  the  secondary  qualities,  when  known 
as  relations  only,  ensure  us  real  knowledge.  If  direct  and  relative  are  opposed,  we  can  only  say  that  the 
knowledge  by  the  primary  is  more  direct  than  knowledge  by  the  secondary. 

The  knowledge  of  qualities,  whether  primary  or  secondary,  is  not  a  knowledge  of  the  reality  \  ut  of 
the  nature  of  existing  things.  It  is,  properly,  not  a  knowledge  that  they  are,  but  a  knowledge  of  what  they 
are.  The  primary  qualities  are,  in  one  sense,  more  constant  and  universal,  and  hence  more  easily  em- 
ployed as  signs  or  indications  of  what  is  fixed  and  permanent  in  the  agencies,  laws,  and  designs  of  existing 
objects,  and  hence  they  are  safer  than  the  secondary  as  indicators  and  criteria  of  what  we  call  real  knowl- 
edge. But  the  nature  of  real  knowledge  has  been  so  much  discussed  in  modern  speculation  as  to  require 
to  be  separately  considered.  As  we  are  necessarily  brought  to  consider  this  topic  by  the  discussion  of  sub* 
ttance  and  attribute,  we  add  the  following  : 

VII.   Of  the  real  as  opposed  to  the  phenomenal. 

§  670.  The  real,  in  the  language  of  recent  philosophy,  is  opposed  both 
to  the  phenomenal  and  the  relative.  It  is  used  in  the  first  connection  by 
Kant,  and  in  the  second  by  Hamilton. 


§668.  SUBSTANCE   AND    ATTRIBUTE:    MIND   AND   MATTER.  041 


Phenomena]  dis-  ^  ^e  phenomenal,  as  distinguished  from  the  real,  may  be  under- 
tSf^^VtS  stoo<i  in  two  senses.  It  may  mean  that  that  which  appears 

to  one  sense  is  not  what  it  appears  to  be  to  another  ;  as  when 
a  stick,  thrust  in  the  water,  appears  to  be  bent,  but  is  not  so  in  fact  ;  or, 
when  the  rainbow  appears  to  be,  but  is  not,  a  solid  arch,  or  the  spectrum  on 
the  screen  appears  to  be,  but  is  not,  a  dagger  or  a  flame.  In  cases  like 
these,  the  object,  as  known  by  one  sense,  is  misjudged  (§  146.)  The  inference 
is  drawn  that  one  percept,  as  that  given  to  the  eye,  is  the  sign  of  another. 
that  which  is  appropriate  to  the  touch.  We  infer  that  what  we  see  with 
the  eye  is,  or  will  prove,  solid,  or,  as  we  say,  real,  to  the  touch.  We  say 
of  the  stick  in  the  water,  it  is  apparently,  but  not  really  crooked,  and  of 
the  stick  in  the  atmosphere,  with  precisely  the  same  appearance,  it  is  not 
merely  apparently  but  is  really  crooked.  In  this  sense,  that  which  is  known 
by  the  sense  of  touch,  or  by  all  the  senses  combined,  is  held  to  be  real, 
while  what  is  apparent  to  or  inferred  from  a  single  sense  is  phenomenal. 

The  phenomenal,  in  the  second  sense,  is  any  thing  manifested 
Ben8e.he  sec°nd  to  ^r^ct  observation  —  either  of  sense  or  consciousness  —  as 

distinguished  from  the  elements  into  which  it  is  resolved,  and 
the  powers  or  laws  by  which  it  is  explained.  For  example,  the  rainbow, 
as  apprehended  by  the  eye,  is  a  phenomenon  ;  but  the  rainbow,  as 
resolved  into  light  reflected  from  rain-drops  at  a  certain  angle  from  the 
sun,  is  said  to  be  the  reality.  But  what  is  a  rain-drop  ?  As  a  phenomenon 
it  is  an  object  with  a  certain  form  and  appearance  to  the  eye,  with  a  certain 
taste,  feeling,  to  the  other  senses,  and  with  other  relations  to  other  well- 
known  substances.  But  when  it  is  chemically  analyzed,  it  is  known  to  be 
the  product  of  certain  agents  in  certain  proportions.  The  reality  of  water 
would  again  be  considered  by  some  to  be  its  chemical  elements  united  in 
certain  proportions  ;  and  the  reality  of  light,  an  ether  capable  of  certain 
undulations. 

According  to  this  use  of  those  contrasted  terms,  every  thing  apprehended  by 
In  the  last  sense  the  senses,  all  that  is  known  as  most  solid  and  real  in  the  world  of  matter, 
percufvedKa?  is  only  phenomenal,  and  that  only  is  real  which  is  discovered  by  science  of 

the  elements  and  laws  into  which  these  phenomena  are  resolved,  and  by  which 
they  are  explained.  Any  thing  which  remains  to  be  thus  explained  and  resolved,  is  phe- 
nomenal, relatively  to  the  agents  and  laws  which  explain  it. 

The  solid  matter  which  we  touch  and  press  against  is  not  real.  The  reality  is  the  un- 
known something  which  we  describe  as  endowed  with  the  power  to  impart  a  special  sensation 
through  the  nerves  of  touch.  This  special  sensation  with  which  we  are  so  familiar  is  not  real, 
but  only  the  something  which  suffers  changes  (suppose  vibrations),  by  which  the  mind  is 
affected  in  a  peculiar  manner.  Under  this  contrast,  that  which  is  directly  and  constantly 
known,  which  interests  our  feelings,  which  is  most  important,  and,  in  one  sense,  is  most  perma- 
nent, is  pronounced  unreal  ;  and  that  only  is  called  real  which  is  reached  by  special  and  arti- 
ficial  analysis,  and  expressed  by  recondite  relations.  Of  the  analysis  which  attains  to  reality 
so  understood,  we  are  never  certain  that  we  have  reached  the  end.  The  real  agents  behind 
these  shifting  changes  which  wo  call  the  phenomenal  universe  of  material  being,  may  not  ve* 
41 


642  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §671. 

have  been  ascertained ;  and  after  all  that  science  has  discovere  i,  we  are  still  forced  to  ask^ 
What  is  reality,  and  shall  we  ever  be  able  to  lay  hold  of  it  ? 

§  671.    In  respect  even  to  the  mind  that  knows  matter,  we 

Not   even   what     .  ,       ,  .  .  , .  ~,  . 

we  know  by  the  inquire  whether,  in  case  it  were  differently  constituted,  it 
would  not  give  different  phenomena ;  and  whether  what  we 
call  the  sensible  world  is  not  a  phenomenon  made  up  in  part  of  the 
unknown  object  which  we  call  matter,  and  in  part  of  the  organized  and 
animated  matter  which  we  call  the  sensorium,  so  that  the  objects  touched 
and  tasted  and  smelled  and  colored,  etc.,  etc.,  which  we  call  the  material 
universe,  are  not  realities,  but  only  phenomena  jointly  produced  by  the  two 
unknown  and  unknowable  realities  which  we  call  matter  and  the  embodied 
soul. 

According  to  this  contrast,  the  real  thing,  the  thing  in  itself,  can  never  be  known.  It  ia 
transcendental  to  our  knowledge  ;  we  only  know  that  it  is.  We  cannot  even  know  it  in  any 
relations ;  for  the  relations  or  categories  by  which  the  understanding  judges,  do  not  connect 
realities,  but  only  phenomena.  Even  the  relations  of  space  and  time  do  not  apply  to  realities, 
but  only  to  phenomena.  And  if  both  the  forms  of  the  understanding  and  of  intuition, 
could  be  applied  to  things  as  well  as  to  phenomena,  these  forms  may  themselves  be  only  sub- 
jective, that  is,  the  phenomenal  products  of  the  human  agent  having  a  relative  existence  only 
to  the  human  being. 

The  real  as  thus  opposed  to  the  phenomenal  is  called  by  Kant  the  noumenon  or  the 
Kant's  doctrine  ^e  thing  in  itself.  This  cannot  be  discerned  by  the  senses,  nor  can  it  be  apprehended 
of  the  renl  and  by  consciousness.  It  ever  flits  from  our  grasp,  and  leaves  phenomena  only  in  our  pos- 
phenomenal.  •  BesBion  as  shadows  which  do  not  satisfy  us  but  point  to  something  which  we  never  can 
reach.  We  cannot  know  it  by  the  intellect.  It  ia  true  that  the  Speculative  Reason, 
as  distinguished  from  the  Understanding,  must  assume  it  to  exist,  in  order  to  regulate  its  operations  and 
conclusions,  but  even  the  Speculative  Reason  does  not  know  that  it  in  fact  exists.  It  is  only  the  Practical 
or  Moral  Reason  which  commands  us  to  believe  that  it  exists  in  the  three  forms  of  Matter,  the  Soul,  and 
God. 

The  doctrine  of  Hamilton  on  this  subject  has  been  made  the  subject  of  earnest  dispute. 

.        t  Different  interpreters  are  far  from  being  agreed  as  to  what  was  his  real  meaning.    The 

doctrine  "  S  following  passages  seem  to  express  his  views  in  intelligible  language,  and  to  exhaust  all 

the  constructions  to  which  they  can  be  subjected  :  "  Our  whole  knowledge  of  mind  and  of 
matter  is  relative — conditioned— relatively  conditioned.  Of  things  absolutely  or  in 
themselves — be  they  external,  be  they  internal — we  know  nothing  or  know  them  as  incognizable  ;  and  be- 
come aware  of  their  incomprehensible  existence  only  as  this  is  indirectly  and  accidentally  revealed  to  us 
through  certain  qualities  related  to  our  faculties  of  knowledge,  and  which  qualities,  again,  we  cannot 
think  as  unconditioned,  irrelative,  existent  in  and  of  themselves.  All  that  we  know  is  therefore  phenom- 
enal— phenomenal  of  the  unknown.  The  philosopher  speculating  on  the  worlds  of  matter  and  of  mind,  is 
thus,  in  a  certain  sort,  only  an  ignorant  admirer.  In  his  contemplation  of  the  universe,  the  philosopher 
indeed  resembles  ^neas  contemplating  the  adumbrations  on  his  shield;  as  it  may  equally  be  said  of  the 
sage  as  of  the  hero  : 

'  Miratur :  Rerum  que  ignarus  imagine  gaudet.' 

Nor  is  this  denied ;  for  it  has  been  commonly  confessed,  that  as  substances,  •we  know  not  what  is  matter, 
and  are  ignorant  of  what  is  mind."    Discussions,  App.  I.  B. 

"Our  knowledge  is  relative  :  1st,  because  existence  is  not  cognizable  absolutely  and  in  itself,  but  only 
in  special  modes ;  2d,  because  these  modes  can  be  known  only  if  they  stand  in  a  certain  relation  to  out 
faculties  ;  and  3d,  because  the  modes,  thus  relative  to  our  faculties,  are  presented  to  and  known  by  tho 
mind  only  under  modifications  determined  by  these  faculties  themselves."  Met.  Lee.  8. 

"  Suppose  that  the  total  object  of  consciousnes  in  perception  is  =12  ;  and  suppose  that  the  external 
eeality  contributes  6,  the  material  sense  3,  and  the  mind  3,  this  may  enable  you  to  form  some  rude  con- 
jecture of  the  nature  of  the  object  of  perception."  Met.  Lee.  15. 

"  I  believe  that  I  immediately  know  a  material  world  existing ;  in  other  wordB,  I  believe  that  the  ex- 
ternal reality  itself  is  the  object  of  which  I  am  conscious  in  perception."  Dis.  Rev.  of  Reid  and  Brown. 


SUBSTANCE   AND   ATTRIBUTE      MIND   AND   MATTER.  643 

"  I  have  frejuently  asserted  that  in  perception  we  are  conscious  of  the  external  olject  immediately 
and  in  itself.  This  is  the  doctrine  of  Natural  Realism.  But  in  saying  that  a  thing  is  known  in  itself,  I  da 
not  mean  that  this  object  is  known  in  its  absolute  existence,  that  is,  out  of  relation  to  us.  This  is  impo«- 
pible,  for  our  knowledge  is  only  of  the  relative."  Dissertations  on  .Reid— (Note,  p.  866.) 

ine  assumptions  §  672.  We  have  already  criticised  the  assumptions  on  whict 
Hamilton  criti-  these  conclusions  of  Kaut  and  Hamilton  are  founded,  and 
have  directed  attention  to  the  misapplied  analogies  by  which 
they  have  been  derived.  (§533.)  We  add  only  the  remark  that  the  word 
real,  as  at  present  contrasted  with  the  phenomenal  and  the  relative,  is 
used  comparatively  only,  so  that  an  existence  may  be  properly  said  to  be 
more  or  less  real,  and  that  the  words  phenomenal  and  relative  are  also 
used  in  the  same  equivocal  and  variable  manner.  Philosophically  or  meta- 
physically considered,  whatever  is  known  is  real,  whether  known  to  sense 
or  consciousness,  whether  known  to  one  sense  or  many  senses,  whether 
enduring  for  a  moment  or  for  an  eternity,  whether  wrongly  or  rightly 
used  as  the  ground  for  an  inference.  The  thing  in  itself,  or  the  thing  un- 
related, is  a  mere  abstraction,  and  the  real  thus  interpreted,  is  an  imaginary 
phantom,  an  hypostasized  abstraction  which  is  transcendental  and  unreach- 
able  to  the  human  intellect,  whenever  that  intellect  vainly  imagines  that  it 
may  have  substantial  and  separate  being. 

This  search  after  the  real  as  the  ultimate  and  independent,  is  not  confined  to  professed 
philosophers. 

§  673.  The  course  of  thought  by  which  these  technical  distinctions  are 
The  same  ques-  evolved,  and  these  refined  speculations  are  occasioned,  is  natural  to  all  men. 
common  life.  The  boy  believes  at  first,  that  the  rainbow  which  spans  the  sky  is  in  reality  a 
solid  and  colored  arch.  The  savage  thinks  that  the  image  of  himself  which  ia 
reflected  in  a  mirror,  is  another  human  being  who  mocks  his  motions.  But  when  the  boy  rung 
to  touch  the  rainbow,  he  cannot  find  it ;  and  when  the  savage  looks  behind  the  mirror,  he 
cannot  grasp  the  man  he  saw.  This  teaches  them  to  distinguish  between  the  real  and 
the  unreal.  At  first  they  call  that  real  which  can  be  handled  as  well  as  seen.  When  after- 
wards they  learn  to  understand  that  these  phenomena  are  effects,  they  dignify  by  the  name  of 
realities,  the  agents  which  produce  them.  By  and  by  they  conjecture  that  perhaps  those 
appearances  to  the  eye  which  are  most  permanent  and  constant,  can  be  traced  to  certain 
forces  on  which  they  depend,  and  which  are  governed  by  laws.  Having  been  surprised 
and  mocked,  as  they  think,  more  than  once  by  sense-phenomena,  they  ask  whether  the  uni- 
verse that  is  painted  to  the  eye,  becomes  any  more  real  because  it  can  be  touched  and  grasped 
by  the  hand,  than  the  rainbow  which  exists  for  the  eye  only,  and  is  impalpable  to  the  com- 
mon touch  ?  They  persist  in  inquiring,  if  unreal  visions  of  the  eye  can  be  so  skilfully  con- 
jured into  being  by  appropriate  agencies,  why  also  may  not  what  is  touched  and  weighed  and 
measured  be  also  as  unreal,  and  be  as  dependent  on  forces  and  laws  that  are  unobserved  ?  If 
the  sense-universe  is  *  what  we  half  receive  and  half  create,'  why  may  not  the  mind  it- 
self, in  all  its  knowing,  be  made  a  changing  and  relative  factor  by  its  own  forms  of  sense 
and  thought,  and  more  than  half  create  the  phenomena  which  it  seems  to  know  ?  Nay,  why 
may  not  the  mind — the  knowing  agent — be  itself  a  changing  illusion,  depending  for  being 
«nd  laws  on  other  agencies ;  itself  the  most  unreal  phenomenon  of  all,  because  productive  of 
the  most  numerous  unrealities  ? 


644  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §670. 

§  674,  We  answer  some  of  these  questions  thus:  The  question  of  reality 
How  best  re-  and  non-reality,  as  used  in  this  special  sense,  is  not  concerned  with  phe- 
B0''ved'  nomena  as  such,  but  with  the  causes,  forces,  or  agents,  which  produce  and 

explain  tham.  The  rainbow  is  as  real — i.  e.,  knowable — as  are  the  clouds  or 
the  solid  earth ;  and  so  is  the  image  in  the  mirror  as  real  as  the  man  of  whom  it  i3 
the  reflex.  While  each  endures  and  is  manifested  to  the  sense  to  which  it  is  appropriate, 
it  is  a  reality.  It  is  an  illusion,  in  that  the  mind  made  more  of  it  than  it  was  authorized  to 
do.  If  the  boy  had  regarded  it  as  only  being  visible,  and  had  not  run  across  the  fields  to  find 
its  golden  pillars,  he  would  not  have  complained  of  nature,  or  grown  sceptical  as  to  hor  trust- 
worthiness. 

We  distinguish  §  675.  To  determine  what  is  real,  we  must  first  inquire 
ceiled8  lndpeas  in  what  sense  we  use  the  word.  We  may  distinguish  be- 
tween objects  as  perceived  by  sense,  and  as  known  in  higher 
relations.  Things  and  facts  given  in  experience,  are,  as  phenomena,  just 
what  they  appear  to  be.  But  when  we  view  them  in  their  relations  to 
causes  and  laws,  we  call  those  real  whose  causes  are  permanent  and  always 
active,  for  these  are  constant,  ever-present,  and  enduring  effects.  If  the 
causes  are  occasional  and  short  lived,  the  effects  are  said  to  be  unreal. 
The  universal  light  and  the  wakeful  eye  cooperate  to  produce  and  prepare 
for  the  perceiving  mind  the  reality  which  we  call  the  visible  universe. 
Let  this  light  be  dimmed,  or  the  eye  be  dimmed  (one  or  both),  and  the 
colored  universe  is  an  actual  reality  no  longer.  But  inasmuch  as  its  con- 
ditions or  causes  are  ever  ready  to  produce  this  phenomenal  being,  it  is 
said  to  be  real  or  a  reality. 

The  relations  of  §  ^76.  But  when  we  ask,  May  not  the  perceiving  intellect 
rwt^disfrust-  produce  the  objects  and  relations  which  it  beholds,  as  truly 
and  with  a  similar  liability  to  change  as  does  the  sensorium 
— i.  e..  Is  it  not  with  its  categories,  itself  a  phenomenon  dependent  upon 
transcendental  and  changeable  forces  ?  We  answer,  No.  The  analogy 
fails  by  which  we  transfer  the  phenomena  of  the  sentient  to  the  realities 
of  the  knowing  soul.  The  soul,  as  intellect,  not  only  acts  in  knowing 
according  to  the  constitution  which  makes  it  what  it  is,  but  it  assumes, 
and  must  assume,  that  these  object-relations  are  discerned  and  affirmed  by 
every  intellect  whether  creating  or  created,  and  are  therefore  the  real, 
elements  of  all  trustworthy  knowing  as  a  subjective  process,  and  of  ah 
valid  knowledge  as  an  objective  fact.  To  whatever  object-matter  this 
process  or  its  results  are  applied  (whether  it  be  to  material  or  spiritual,  or 
to  the  thinking  agent  itself),  these  categories  are  absolute  and  real,  and 
cannot  be  even  supposed  to  be  relative  or  phenomenal.  To  suppose  them 
such,  is  to  commit  intellectual  suicide.  It  is  to  introduce  constant  antago- 
nism into  every  process  which  we  perform,  and  the  elements  of  self- 
destruction  into  every  result  which  these  processes  evolve,  as  well  as  logical 
incompatibility  and  confusion  into  the  language  by  which  both  processes 
and  results  are  expressed.  It  is  to  philosophize  ourselves  into  the  impossi 
bility  of  philosophy,  and  by  assumptions  which  we  deny  that  we  may  assume 


§677.  FINITE   AND   CONDITIONED. — INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  64S 

It  is  not  only  to  offend  against  reason  by  introducing  inconsistency 
into  that  which  in  its  very  nature  is  self-consistent,  but  it  is  to  overlook 
or  deny  those  designs  which  we  must  assume  that  the  universe  exists  to 
fulfil,  so  far  at  least  as  to  be  capable  of  being  known. 


CHAPTER   VIIL 

THE   FINITE   AND   CONDITIONED. THE   INFINITE   AND   ABSOLUTE. 

THE  questions  concerning  the  finite  and  its  relations,  the  conditioned  and  its  dependence 
upon  the  absolute,  are  the  most  vexed  and  the  most  unsettled  of  any  in  modern  specula- 
tion. Can  the  infinite  be  conceived  or  known  by  a  finite  inellect  ?  Can  the  uncondi- 
tioned be  brought  under  those  relations  which  are  appropriate  only  to  the  conditioned  ? 
What  are  the  finite  and  the  infinite — the  conditioned  and  the  absolute  ?  These  inquiries, 
and  such  as  these,  are  discussed  in  various  forms  and  phrases  in  all  modern  treatises  and 
histories  of  philosophy.  They  force  themselves  into  psychology  as  they  compel  us  to 
inquire :  By  what  powers  and  processes  of  the  intellect  do  we  form,  or  essay  to  form, 
conceptions  of  these  objects  ?  Do  we  believe  that  such  objects  exist  ?  Who  and  what 
are  time,  space,  and  God  ?  Do  we  only  believe  them  to  exist  ?  If  so,  by  what  process  and 
on  what  grounds  ?  Is  it  a  process  of  intuition,  knowledge,  or  faith  ?  What  relations  do 
they  hold  to  one  another  ?  Are  time  and  space  infinite  in  every  sense  in  which  God  ia 
infinite  ?  These  questions  we  must  attempt  to  answer,  if  we  would  analyze  all  the  powers 
and  explain  all  the  products  of  the  human  intellect.  We  can  do  this  most  successfully  if 
we  consider  the  finite  and  the  conditioned  apart  from  the  infinite  and  the  absolute.  We 
begin  with 

I.    The  finite  and  the  conditioned. 

§  677.  The  process  of  knowledge  in  all  the  forms  as  yet  con- 
sidered,  is  a  unifying  and  therefore  a  limiting  process.  It  is 
true  it  also  divides ;  but  the  intellect  discriminates,  in  order 
chat  it  may  combine ;  it  divides,  in  order  again  to  unite.  But  its  final 
achievement  is  to  effect  some  union.  It  is  to  make  one,  of  materials  which 
were  separate  or  diverse.  Each  object  which  it  takes  in  hand  it  analyzes 
into  many  parts,  and  discriminates  into  various  elements.  The  parts  it 
then  proceeds  to  recombine  into  a  completed  whole:  the  elements  it 
blends  into  a  perfected  product.  It  leaves  it  a  completed  whole  or 
finished  result,  which  passes  into  the  sum  of  its  possessions  as  a  known,  a 
defined,  and  therefore  a  limited  or  finite  object. 

Thus,  in  sense-perception,  the  objects  are  perceived  by  being  first  separated 
Illustrated  by  jnto  distinct  percepts,  each  of  which  is  perfected  by  a  separate  act  of  analytic 
tion.  attention,  and  again  united  into  a  completed  whole  in  space.  These  wholei 

are  separated  from  the  perceiving  mind  as  diverse  in  nature,  and  yet  are  con 
nected  by  the  uniting  act  of  knowledge,  as  existing  in  a  single  instant  of  time. 


646  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §679 

These  single  objects,  so  called,  thus  distinguished  from  one  another  in  Mpace,  are  con- 
nected with  one  another  as  adjoining,  and  thus  of  these  several  distinguishable  things,  is  made 
up  a  continuous  unit,  comprehending  all  the  parts  at  once  presented  to  the  eye  or  covered 
by  the  hand.  The  distinguishable  parts  of  an  act  or  state  of  the  mind  are  united  as  coex- 
istent, and  so  connected  into  a  whole  by  the  observation  of  consciousness. 

The  units  thus  constituted  may  be  enlarged  by  the  imagination  and  memory. 
Bj;  acts  of  im-  Spatial  objects  may  be  added  one  to  another,  so  as  to  increase  the  space-unit 
memory.0  to  the  furthest  limit ;  or  imagination  may  suppose  them  created  when  they 

are  not.  Memory  may  add  to  the  present  mental  states  all  that  have  gone 
before  within  its  own  experience.  Imagination  supplies  all  that  now  exist,  or  that  may  exist 
in  other  minds.  Each  of  these  forms  of  the  representative  power,  after  its  own  manner  pro- 
duces units  or  finite  wholes. 

Thought,  by  its  similarities  observed,  unites  the  like  into  new  combinations 
By  the  processes  or  units.  It  refers  diverse  effects  to  a  common  cause,  acting  under  similar 
01  thought.  laws.  It  subordinates  means  the  most  diverse  to  a  single  end,  by  their  con- 

spiring  and  designed  adaptation,  and  thus  unites  them  as  preeminently  one. 

The  finite  uni     §  6^8'    ^e  can  ima£me  tnat  a^  material  objects  perceivable 
verse ;  how  con-    could  be  united  as  one  by  the  single  mind  with  capacities 

ceived. 

ample  enough  to  grasp  so  many  by  a  single  act.  What  no 
human  mind  can  actually  perceive  or  be  conscious  of,  it  imagines  under  the 
relations  of  time  and  space,  and  by  induction  believes  to  exist.  It  can  also 
imagine  every  existing  mind  as  operating  with  every  other  mind,  and  can 
suppose  itself  to  know  all  the  powers  of  these  minds,  and  all  their  acts. 
We  can  believe  it  possible  that  these  agents  and  objects  should  be  known 
in  all  their  knowable  likenesses  and  dissimilarities,  in  all  their  causal 
agencies,  in  all  the  laws  under  which  their  forces  act  and  the  ends  to 
which  they  are  adapted.  We  can  conceive  this  assemblage  of  separate 
objects,  material  and  spiritual,  with  their  several  phenomena,  to  be  but  an 
assemblage  of  effects,  produced  by  other  agencies  and  other  beings  in 
previous  times,  and  these  by  others ;  each  aggregate  of  beings  and  forces 
producing  others,  under  permanent  agencies  and  fixed  laws.  Moreover,  we 
can  conceive  these  beings,  with  their  powers  and  laws,  as  co-existing  in 
space ;  these  successive  evolutions,  whether  of  separate  beings  or  new 
phenomena,  as  developed  in  time,  as  designed  for  separate  ends,  and  all 
these  ends  as  conspiring  together  for  a  series  of  ends,  constituting  in  this 
way  an  intelligible  and  orderly  system.  This  assemblage  of  all  objects 
believed  to  be  existing  in  space  and  acting  in  time,  with  all  the  agencies 
and  laws  and  relations  now  known  or  which  may  be  afterward  discovered, 
make  up  the  finite  universe  as  knowable,  or  conceived  by  man.  It  is  called 
the  universe,  because  it  includes  as  a  whole  all  the  separable  objects 
apprehensible  by  sense  and  consciousness.  It  is  the  finite  universe,  be- 
cause each  of  these  objects  is  limited  to  a  portion  of  space  and  a  period 
of  time,  and  subjected  to  all  the  conditions  of  existence  and  of  action 
which  their  actual  forces,  laws,  and  ends  prescribe.  It  exists  and  acts 
under  the  action  of  these  forces,  ends,  and  laws. 


FINITE   AND   CONDITIONED.  —  INFINITE  AND  ABS01  UTE.  64  <1 

To  know  the  finite  universe,  in  its  constituent  parts,  and  to  unite  these  undei 
know*  the  "uni-  a11  kuown  and  discoverable  relations,  is  the  aim  of  science.  To  this  end  it 
verse.  observes  facts,  viz.,  objects  and  their  phenomena  ;  searches  out  causes,  in. 

terprets  laws  and  uses,  and  is  ever  nearing  but  has  not  yet  achieved  its 
ideal  of  mastering  every  thing  that  can  be  known.  It  conceives  of  all  that  exists,  or  haa 
existed,  or  that  may  exist,  and  it  seeks  to  make  of  this  universe  of  fact,  a  universe  known  — 
i.  e.,  a  universe  of  finished  or  completed  knowledge. 

§  679.  To  speak  more  exactly,  the  finite  universe  is  both 
limited  and  conditioned;  the  words  limited  and  conditioned 
not  being  .always  synonymous.  The  universe  of  objects 
and  events  which  we  know  by  sense-perception,  and  which  we  enlarge  by 
the  representative  power,  believing  that  its  objects  exist  by  means  of 
thought  ;  this  universe  is  made  up  of  objects  and  events  which  are 
bounded  by  one  another,  and  have  a  limited  or  definite  extension.  This 
is  true  of  all  the  existing  spirits  which  we  know.  They  all  exist  and  act 
within  certain  defined  spheres  of  extension.  When  all  these  extended 
beings,  and  these  spheres  of  spiritual  being  and  action,  are  gathered  into 
the  universe  known,  its  extension  is  still  limited  or  defined.  So  far,  also, 
as  we  trace  this  universe  of  beings  and  phenomena,  backward  or  forward 
through  the  series  of  its  changing  developments,  its  duration  is  limited  by 
a  beginning  and  end.  There  is  a  first  and  a  last  of  the  series,  if  it  is 
limited;  whether  the  terms  designate  a  single  object  or  act,  or  are  collec- 
tive and  designate  many  objects. 

It  is  also  a  conditioned  universe.  Every  part  and  element  in 
Sonet180  condi"  ^  dePends  on  something  other  than  itself,  for  what  it  is  and 
for  what  it  does.  It  begins  to  be  by  the  operation  of  one 
or  more  agents  acting  according  to  laws,  and  these  agents  are  the  neces- 
sary conditions  of  its  existence.  It  also  continues  to  exist  under  the 
operation  of  conditions.  These  conditions  are  the  causes,  laws,  and  ends 
of  its  being,  and  these  prescribe  its  being,  as  well  as  the  sphere  and  the 
results  of  its  activity.  Each  part  of  the  universe  being  thus  dependent  on 
productive  forces  other  than  itself,  the  universe  itself,  as  a  whole,  is  said 
to  be  conditioned  as  well  as  limited.  But  is  this  all  that  we  know  ?  Is 
this  all  that  exists  ?  Besides  the  limited,  is  there  the  unlimited  ?  Be- 
sides the  conditioned  and  dependent,  is  there  the  unconditioned,  the  self- 
existent,  and  self-active  ?  These  questions  introduce 

II.    The,  infinite  and  absolute,  and  their  relations  to  the  finite  and  de- 
pendent. 

§  680.    To  understand  the  import  of  the  questions  concern- 


ing  these  much-vexed  topics,  and  to  attempt  to  answer  them, 
t>e  considered.       .^  .g  neceggary5  first  of  ^  to  clear  away  all  uncertainty  in 

respect  to  the  terms  which  are  employed,  and  to  bring  the  mind  to  a 
definite  apprehension  of  the  various  senses  in  which  they  may  be  inter- 
changed and  confounded.  The  vagueness  in  which  terms  of  such  extreme 


048  THE   HUMAN  INTELLECT.  §681. 

abstractness  are  susceptible,  and  the  consequent  ambiguity  with  which 
they  are  used  by  different  writers  and  even  by  the  same  writers  at  differ- 
ent times,  are  fruitful  sources  of  misunderstanding  and  controversy :  to  say 
nothing  of  the  general  haziness  and  uncertainty  which  invest  the  subject 
in  many  minds.  It  may  contribute  somewhat  to  the  removal  of  these 
evils,  if  we  consider,  first  of  all,  the  etymology  of  the  more  important  of 
these  terms. 

We  begin  with  the  infinite. 

§  681.  Infinite  signifies,  literally,  that  which  is  not  bounded 
S^e^Ste!"1  or  terminated.  It  is  primarily  applied  to  spatial  quantity. 

Every  thing  which  has  extent  is  terminated  or  bounded  by 
some  other  object  or  objects  which  are  also  extended.  The  line  or  surface 
which  divides  one  surface  or  solid  from  another,  is  called  its  limit,  and  the 
surface  or  solid,  as  necessarily  thus  terminated  or  terminable,  is  called 
finite  or  limited.  In  like  manner,  the  mathematical  point  is  conceived  as 
terminating  or  limiting  the  mathematical  line,  and  the  line  itself  is  limited 
or  finite.  By  an  obvious  transference  of  signification  from  the  objects  of 
space  to  those  of  time,  the  first  and  last  of  any  succession  of  events  or 
series  of  numbers  is  called  its  limit,  and  every  series  of  numbers,  numbered 
objects,  or  events  and  portions  of  time,  is  finite  or  limited. 

The  terms  originally  appropriate  to  extension,  duration,  and 
from  quantity^  number,  are  still  further  applied  to  the  exercise  of  power  by 

material  and  spiritual  agents.  The  exercise  of  power  by 
man,  whether  spiritual  or  material,  is  possible  only  in  certain  places,  at 
certain  times,  and  with  respect  to  a  certain  number  of  objects,  or  a  measured 
quantity  or  mass  of  matter,  and  thus  power  itself  becomes  measurable 
by  the  relations  of  quantity  and  number  as  applied  to  its  effects  and  the 
means  by  which  they  are  caused.  Man  can  only  accomplish  certain  effects 
in  limited  places,  times,  and  number,  and  hence  he  is  said  to  be  limited  in 
nis  powers.  He  can  only  know  and  do  certain  things  under  all  these 
favoring  circumstances,  and  is  therefore  a  finite  being.  The  woi'dfinite  is, 
therefore,  originally  a  term  of  quantity,  and  secondarily  of  causal  or 
productive  agency.  The  infinite,  in  the  general  sense,  is  the  wotf-finite. 
Logically  conceivable,  there  are  as  many  sorts  of  the  not-finite  or  infinite 
as  there  are  senses  of  the  finite. 

Wft  may  attach  the  negative  particle  to  every  positive  adjective,  and  (orm 
As  many  senses  a  con  f  spending  negative  conception.  Whether  each  of  these  concepts  ia 
of  *he  finite!*  "  realized  in  fact— i.  «.,  whether  there  is  an  existing  reality  corresponding  to 

the  concept  thus  constructed — is  a  question  which  is  not  so  easily  answered. 
But  that  with  which  we  have  to  do  at  present,  is  the  possible  senses  or  meanings  of  the  term  ; 
and  it  is  obvious  that  there  may  be  as  many  of  these  senses  as  there  are  possible  senses  of  the 
finite,  its  logical  opposite.  As  there  is  the  concept  of  finite  in  the  sense  of  quantity,  so  there 
is  the  infinite  of  quantity  ;  and  as  there  is  the  finite  pertaining  to  causal  agency  in  matter  and 
spirit,  so  there  is  the  concept  of  the  infinite  in  the  same  sense.  It  is  most  important  to  keep 


§  683.  FINITE   AND   CONDITIONED.  -  INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  649 

this  fact  in  mind,  and  sometimes  to  ask  distinctly  of  ourselves,  or  others,  in  which  sense  thf 
term  infinite  is  used. 


The  uncondi-  §  682'  ^ie  un^onditioned  comes  next  in  order.  Logically 
not-conditionld!  it;  is  the  negative  of  the  conditioned,  and  follows  its  mean« 
ing.  The  conditioned  is  that  which  is  in  any  sense  dependent 
upon  any  thing  else,  either  as  a  material  of  its  composition,  a  cause  or 
means  of  its  production,  or  an  object  of  its  psychical  activity.  Thus, 
silver  is  a  condition  of  a  silver  spoon  ;  heat  is  the  condition  of  the  melt- 
ing of  iron;  and  a  material  world  the  condition  of  the  act  of  sense-per- 
ception. Every  condition  has  this  in  common  with  every  other,  viz.,  that 
that  to  which  it  is  the  condition  cannot  be  what  it  is  without  it,  whether 
it  is  a  thing,  an  act,  or  an  effect.  It  is  therefore  said  to  be  limited  by 
these  conditions.  It  can  neither  be,  nor  be  thought  of  without  them. 
They  are  necessary  to  it.  They  must  be  given  or  present  with  it,  and  are 
therefore  called  its  conditions. 

Prima  mean  §  683'  ^^e  Pr^mar^/  signification  of  the  conditioned  is  that 
°ndi"  °^  necessary  dependence.  Its  secondary  application  is  tc 
objects  of  quantity,  thus  reversing  the  process  through 
which  the  finite  passes.  The  finite  proceeds  from  a  signification  of  quan- 
tity to  one  of  quality.  The  conditioned  proceeds  from  quality  to  quan- 
tity. 

The  line  and  surface  are  the  conditions  as  well  as  the  limits  respectively  of 

Applied  to  quan-    the  surface  and  the  solid,  but  solely  because  they  are  essentially  necessary  to 

the  conception  of  each.     In  the  same  manner,  space  and  time  are  the  con- 

ditions of  extension  and  duration,  because  they  are  essential  to  the  possibility 

of  each.     They  can  neither  be  logically  thought  of,  nor  really  exist,  except  as  they  involve 

space  and  time  as  their  conditions.     All  the  limits  of  objects  of  quantity  are  also  their  con- 

ditions, but  all  the  conditions  of  such  objects  are  not  necessarily  their  limits.     The  finite,  in 

its  secondary  signification,   coincides  in  its  application  with  the  conditioned  in  its  primary 

meaning.     The  conditioned,  in  its  secondary  meaning,  may  be  applied  to  the  same  objects 

with  the  finite  in  its  primary  meaning,  but  not  to  the  same  relations  of  these  objects. 

The  unconditioned  is  that  which  is  not  conditioned  —  i.  e.,  not 
tfonrt  maan«  necessarily  dependent  on  other  objects  for  thought,  being,  or 

act,  as  a  constituent,  cause,  or  object.  Whenever  the  positive 
can  be  applied,  the  negative  can  be  logically  conceived  as  the  opposite  of 
the  conditioned. 

There  is  a  special  sense  in  which  these  terms  are  employed  by  Hamilton, 
A  cc.;al  sense  which  Sives  them  a  wider  signification  and  a  more  extended  application. 
with  Hamilton.  This  writer,  with  Mansel,  defines  to  condition,  by  to  think,  and  thus  makes  it 

the  equivalent  of;  to  know  objects  as  related,  or  in  a  relation.  According  to 
this  definition,  every  object  which  is  related  to  any  other,  is  conditioned  by  that  object,  and 
the  conditioned  is  equivalent  to  the  related.  The  unconditioned,  in  this  sense,  is  equivalent  to 
the  unrelated  ;  and  if  the  infinite  is  equivalent  to  the  unconditioned,  then  the  infinite  must  be 
ta  jumble  of  being  related.  This  is  not  the  signification  which  we  have  attached  to  eithe:  of 


650  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  685. 

these  terms.  It  is  not  necessary  to  find  this  meaning  for  them,  in  order  to  deSne  them. 
Whether  Hamilton's  definition  is  correct,  will  be  discussed  hereafter. 

§  684.  The  absolute  is  still  another  term  which  is  often  inter- 
several  senses  of  changed  with  the  infinite  and  the  unconditioned.  Originally 

and  etymologically,  it  signifies  freed  from,  or  severed.  This 
signification  is  purely  negative,  and  waits  to  be  explained  by  that  from 
which  it  is  freed.  Thus  it  was  applied,  to  mean  the  finished  or  completed, 
even  as  the  Latin  word  absolutus,  as  is  thought,  was  originally  used  of 
the  web  when  ready  to  be  taken  from  the  loom.  Both  these  senses  have 
passed  into  the  modern  uses  of  the  term,  and  determined  the  varieties  of 
its  application.  First  of  all,  absolute  and  absolutely  is  applied  to  any 
thought  or  thing  as  viewed  apart  from  any  of-  its  relations — regarded  sim- 
ply by  itself.  This  meaning  is  near  akin  to  that  under  which  it  is  viewed 
as  complete  within  or  by  itself.  Next,  it  is  applied  to 'that  which  is  com- 
plete of  itself  so  far  as  the  relations  of  dependence  are  concerned ;  to  that 
which  is  necessarily  dependent  on  nothing  besides  itself.  In  this  sense  it 
is  very  near  in  meaning  to  the  primary  sense  of  the  unconditioned  already 
explained.  Still  further  it  is  used  in  the  sense  of  severed  or  separated 
from  all  relations  whatever,  or  not  related — i.  e.,  not  admitting  of  any 
relations.  This  sense  is  the  same  with  that  which  Hamilton  and  Mansel 
give  to  the  unconditioned  and  the  infinite.  Still  again:  it  is  applied  to 
relations  of  quantity,  and  here  the  signification  of  complete  or  finished 
is  applied  to  the  greatest  possible  or  conceivable  whole,  to  the  total  of  all 
existence,  whether  limited  or  unlimited  in  extent  and  duration. 

In  the  Hegelian  terminology,  the  absolute  takes  a  special  signification  from 
The  Hegelian  the  fundamental  assumptions  of  the  Hegelian  system.  When  the  notion,  der 
Bense'  Begriff,  has  completed  every  possible  form  of  development,  and,  as  it  were,  done 

its  utmost  possible  by  the  force  of  the  movement,  essential  to  itself,  the  abso- 
lute is  reached.  This  absolute  completes  every  possible  form  of  development,  and  represents 
every  kind  of  object  conceivable  and  knowable  by  the  mind,  from  the  undetermined  notion 
with  which  it  begins,  up  to  the  highest  form  of  development,  when  it  becomes  self-conscious 
in  the  human  spirit  by  distinguishing  itself  from  the  material  universe.  The  conscious  spirit 
thus  evolved,  and  reflecting  in  itself  all  these  lower  forms  of  existence,  is,  with  these  forms, 
the  absolute.  This  is  perpetually  reproduced  by  the  lower  forces  of  the  universe,  and  itself 
perpetually  reproduces  all  these  by  its  own  reflective  thinking. 

The  three  used  §  685.  Again :  these  three  terms  are  all  used  in  two  appli- 
^dbfn  cthecrai>  cations,  which  are  often  interchanged,  but  which  should  be 
Btract.  carefully  and  sharply  distinguished.  The  infinite,  the  uncon- 

ditioned, and  absolute,  may  denote  some  property  or  relation  of  a  being 
in  the  abstract,  or  may  stand  for  a  being  or  entity  which  is  believed  or 
supposed  to  be  infinite,  unconditioned,  or  absolute.  That  is,  the  infinite, 
etc.,  may  stand  for  the  infinitude,  the  unconditionedness,  the  absoluteness 
of  some  being — *.  e.,  as  an  abstractum  or  property  of  a  being ;  or  for  that 
which  is  infinite,  unconditioned,  or  absolute.  One  of  these  acceptations 


§  686.  FINITE   AND   CONDITIONED. INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  651 

is  obviously  very  different  from  the  other.    The  one  may  readily  be  con 
founded  with  the  other. 

.  It  is  of  the  greatest  importance  that  the  sense  in  which  the  word  is  used  in 
question  should  any  inquiry  or  discussion  should  be  distinctly  settled,  and  kept  uniformly  ant! 
kifownf  *  °  *  y  steadily  before  the  mind.  It  is  so  for  two  reasons :  First,  these  terms  are  in 
their  nature  so  vague  a,nd  abstract,  that  the  danger  is  very  great  that  one  of 
these  senses  will  not  be  distinguished  from  the  other ;  and  second,  the  problem  to  be  solved 
with  respect  to  the  terms,  changes  with  every  change  in  their  acceptation.  If  they  are 
used  only  in  the  sense  of  abstract^  then  the  question  to  be  answered  is,  Can  they  be  conceived 
by  the  inind  ?  Is  it  possible  for  the  finite  human  intellect  to  form  a  concept  of  the  infinite, 
the  unconditioned,  the  absolute  ?  or,  which  is  the  same,  Can  the  finite  think  the  infinite  ?  If 
these  terms  are  used  as  the  names  of  an  actual  being,  then  the  problem  is,  Does  the  human 
mind  know  or  believe  that  that  which  is  called  the  infinite,  the  unconditioned,  and  the  abso- 
lute, does  actually  exist  ?  If  it  believes  or  knows  this,  by  what  process  does  it  know  it,  and 
upon  what  evidence  or  grounds  ?  .  And  again,  Can  it  believe  this  infinite  to  exist,  without  also 
conceiving  it  or  forming  a  concept  of  it  ?  All  these  questions  have  been  raised  with  respect 
to  the  infinite  and  the  absolute.  One  of  them  is  often  interchanged  with  another.  Some 
times  they  are  blended  together,  and  the  result  has  been  great  confusion  of  thought  and 
endless  wrangling ;  or  despair  of  reaching  a  solution  of  any  of  these  questions,  or  gaining 
any  satisfaction  in  respect  to  the  subject  to  which  they  relate. 

§  686.    These  distinctions  being  premised,  we  observe  still 
etc.,  not  negative    further,   that   these   concepts   and   the   entities  which   they 
represent  are  not  of  necessity  merely  negative  conceptions* 
nor  are  they  the  products  of  what  is  called  negative  thinking. 

We  have  seen  from  our  analysis  of  the  terms  infinite,  unconditio^^d^ 
and  absolute,  that  they  are  all  originally  negative  in  form,  and  that  tnis 
form,  strictly  interpreted,  would  denote  the  absence  or  the  denial  of  the 
positive  attributes,  with  which  these  negatives  are  combined.  From  this 
unquestioned  fact  the  inference  has  been  derived  that,  because  the  terms 
were  negative,  the  concepts  are  also  negative. 

Locke  gives  some  countenance  to  this  view  (Essay,  B.  II.  c.  xvii.  §§  13,  16,  18.  Cf. 
Arguments  of  Leibnitz,  Nouv.  Ess.  B.  II.  c.  xvii.),  but  he  does  not  push  it  to  Us  extreme.  It  was  re- 
Hamilton  and  served  for  Hamilton  to  do  this  in  the  affirmation  that  the  unconditioned,  both  as  abso- 
others.  jute  and  infinite,  are  not  only  direct  negatives  of  the  progressive  and  the  limited  but  of 

that  which  is  in  any  way  thinkable.  "  The  notion  of  either  unconditioned  is  negative  , 
the  absolute  and  the  infinite  can  each  only  be  conceived  as  a  negation  of  the  thinkable.  In  other  words, 
of  the  absolute  and  infinite  we  have  no  conception  at  all."  *  *  "Correlatives  certainly  suggest  each 
other,  but  correlatives  may  or  may  not  be  equally  real  and  positive.  *  *  Thus  every  positive  notion 
(the  concept  of  a  thing  by  what  it  is)  suggests  a  negative  notion  (the  concept  of  a  thing  by  what  it  is  not) ; 
and  the  highest  positive  notion,  the  notion  of  the  conceivable,  is  not  without  its  corresponding  negative  in 
the  notion  of  the  inconceivable.  But  though  these  mutually  suggest  each  other,  the  positive  alone  is  real ; 
the  negative  is  only  an  abstraction  of  the  other,  and  in  the  highest  generality,  even  an  abstraction  of 
thought  itself." — Discussions,  Review  of  Cousin.  '  Kant  ought  to  have  shown  that  the  unconditioned' 
"  is  self  contradictory,  because  it  is  not  a  notion,  either  simple  or  positive,  but  only  a  fasciculus  of  nega- 
tions— negations  of  the  conditioned  in  its  opposite  extremes,  and  bound  together  by  the  aid  of  language 
and  their  common  character  of  incomprehensibility/' — Met.  Lee.  38.  Cf.  Calderwood,  chap.  II.  v.  Also, 
Mill,  Rev.  of  Ham.  Philosophy,  c.  iv.  In  these  passages  Hamilton  would  seem  to  concede  that  it  does  no! 
necessarily  follow  that  because  a  term  is  negative,  the  concept  which  it  denotes  must  of  course  be  negative, 
but  he  argues  as  though  this  were  true. 


652  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §  687 

But  this  inference,  by  whomsoever  it  is  countenanced  or  made,  is  manifestlj 
The  arguments  invalid.  It  does  not  follow,  because  a  concept  is  designated  bj  a  negative 
not  valid.  term,  that  it  is  not  positively  conceived ;  or,  because  an  object  is  called  by 

such  a  name,  that  it  is  not  really  known.  If  the  only  fact  that  is  prominent 
before  the  mind  be  that  an  object  is  not  something  else — whether  it  be  a  being  or  a  quality — 
it  may  be  designated  by  a  negative  term  This  term  does  not  deny  its  real  existence,  or  that 
it  is  both  knowable  and  known,  for  it  may  assume  and  imply  both.  It  simply  sets  forth  its  con- 
trast with  something  else.  If  we  see  a  bat,  and  say  of  it,  It  is  not  a  bird,  or,  It  is  not  a  beast, 
or  if  the  Sandwich  Islanders,  for  lack  of  name,  had  called  the  ox  a  not-hog,  the  use  of  a  negative 
appellation  would  not  necessarily  authorize  the  inference  of  a  want  of  definite  conceptions  or 
positive  knowledge.  So,  when  we  gather  together  the  entire  sphere  of  finite  being,  and, 
stretching  our  thought  beyond,  apprehend  something  which  is  unlike  it  and  contrasted  with  it 
by  being  not  finite,  not  conditioned,  and  not  dependent ;  we  do  not  confess  that  we  cannot  con- 
ceive it  or  that  we  do  not  know  it  as  something  positive  and  real  because  we  emphasize  thia 
single  relation  of  contrast  by  the  use  of  such  negative  terms  as  the  infinite,  the  unconditioned, 
and  the  absolute  (i.  e.,  the  not  finitely  related). 

Not  the  objects  §  687.  Again,  these  concepts  are  not  "  negative,"  in  that 
nega^veuti5nk-  tnev  are  produced  by  what  is  called  "negative  thinking" 
This  negative  thinking  is  distinguished  from  the  mere  think- 
ing of  a  negative — i.  e.,  thinking  a  positive  in  a  negative  relation — as 
above  explained.  According  to  this  theory,  our  conceptions  of  the  un- 
conditioned, etc.,  are  necessarily  negative,  because  they  are  the  result  of 
an  attempt  to  think  them  which  is  unsuccessful,  and  which,  whenever  it  is 
repeated,  reminds  us  of  the  impotence  or  imbecility  of  our  faculties. 

"  Every  thing  conceivable  in  thought  lies  between  two  extremes,  which,  as  contradictory 
Arguments  of  °*  eac^  otner>  cannot  both  be  true,  but  of  which,  as  mutual  contradictions,  one  must." 
Hamilton  and  '  Space  cannot  be  conceived  by  us  either  as  an  infinite  or  a  finite  maximum,  or  an  infi- 
Mansel.  n^e  or  finite  minimum,  and  yet  if  it  is  conceived  at  all  it  must  be  conceived  as  one  of 

these,  and  forasmuch  as  we  cannot  conceive  it  under  either,  we  have  only  a  negative 
idea  of  space,  i.  e.,  an  idea  which  results  from  an  impotent  attempt  to  conceive  it.  The  same  is  true  of  time, 
and  even  of  causation  itself.' — Hamilton,  Met.  Lee.  38.  Mansel  illustrates  the  process  of  negative  thinking 
still  more  definitely.  "  A  negative  concept,  on  the  other  hand,  which  is  no  concept  at  all,  is  :he  attempt 
to  realize  in  thought  those  combinations  of  attributes  of  which  no  corresponding  intuition  is  possible." 
"  The  only  negative  ideas  with  which  the  logician  or  metaphysician  as  such  is  concerned,  are  those  which 
arise  from  an  attempt  to  transcend  the  conditions  of  all  human  thought."  *  *  "  Such  negative  notions, 
however,  must  not  be  confounded  with  the  absence  of  all  mental  activity.  They  imply  at  once  an  attempt 
to  think  and  a  failure  in  that  attempt." — Mansel,  Proleg.  Logica,  chap.  i.  Both  Hamilton  and  Mansel 
concede  that  there  is  a  belief  of  the  reality  of  this  something  which  we  cannot  succeed  in  thinking  or 
knowing.  "  We  are  thus  taught  the  salutary  lesson  that  the  capacity  of  thought  is  not  to  be  constituted 
into  the  measure  of  existence,  and  are  warned  from  recognizing  the  domain  of  our  knowledge  as  necessa- 
rily coextensive  with  the  horizon  of  our  faith ;  and  by  a  wonderful  revelation  we  are  thus,  in  the  very 
consciousness  of  our  inability  to  conceive  aught  above  the  relative  and  the  finite,  inspired  with  a  belief  in 
the  existence  of  something  unconditioned  beyond  the  sphere  of  all  comprehensible  reality." — Hamilton, 
Dis.  Rev.  of  Cousin.  Mansel  says  :  "  "We  are  compelled  by  the  constitution  of  our  minds,  to  believe  in 
the  existence  of  an  Absolute  and  Infinite  Being— a  belief  which  appears  forced  upon  us,  as  the  comple- 
ment of  our  consciousness  of  the  relative  and  finite." — Limits  of  Rel.  Thought,  Lee.  3. 

When  these  statements  are  closely  scrutinized,  it  will  be  seen 
Soc^untenabie"  tnat  ^B  so-called  negative  thinking  is  simply  a  peculiar 

method  of  knowing  or  believing,  which  is  unlike,  and  so  the 
negative  of,  another  particular  way  of  knowing  or  believing.  That  the 
absolute  is  believed  to  exist,  is  affirmed  by  both  Mansel  and  Hamilton,  aa 


FINITE    AND    CONDITIONED. — INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  653 

well  as  by  Kant.  They  contend  that  it  is  not  known  under  the  limitation* 
or  relations  which  are  appropriate  to  thought.  Let  this  be  allowed;  it 
does  not  prove  that  what  is  known  is  therefore  negatively  known,  or  that 
the  process  by  which  it  is  known  is  a  process  of  negative  thinking. 

8  688.    The  unconditioned,  etc.,  is  not  necessarily,  as  a  con* 

The      absolute,  JJ 

etc.,  not  unreia-    cept  or  as  a  being,  exclusive  oi  all  relations.    It  is  not  un- 
related,  or  the  unrelated. 

This  was  the  doctrine  of  Spinoza.  The  comprehensive  maxim  on  which  h« 
Argument  of  reste(^  f°r  tne  statement  and  defence  of  it  was  Omnis  determinatio  est  neyatio. 
Spinoza,  etc.  Every  relation  implies  a  distinction  into  parts  related ;  the  one  part  cannot 

be  the  other :  hence,  the  absolute,  as  related,  cannot  be  complete  or  perfect 
of  itself.  It  cannot  be  unconditioned,  for,  in  order  to  be  related,  it  must  require,  or,  so  far  aa 
related  must  be  conditioned  upon,  that  which  is  not  itself  to  which  it  is  related.  It  cannot  be 
unlimited,  for,  in  order  to  be  what  it  is,  or  what  it  is  asserted  to  be  in  the  given  relation,  it 
must  depend  on  something  out  of  itself.  The  unconditioned  cannot,  therefore,  be  related. 
Hamilton  gives  the  following  reasons  for  the  same  opinion  :  "  A  relation  is  always  a  particular 
point  of  view ;  consequently,  the  things  thought  as  relative  and  correlative  are  always  thought 
restrictively,  in  so  far  as  the  thought  of  the  one  discriminates  and  excludes  the  other  and 
likewise  all  things  not  conceived  in  the  same  special  or  relative  point  of  view."  And  again ; 
"  We  conceive  God  as  in  the  relation  of  Creator ;  and  in  so  far  as  we  merely  conceive  Him  aa 
Creator,  we  do  not  conceive  Him  as  unconditioned,  as  infinite"  etc.  (Letter  to  Calderwoodi 
nf  Mansd,  Limits  of  Eel.  Thought,  Lee.  2.) 

The  proper  answer  to  these  representations  is  the  following ; 
Reply.  It  is  not  at  all  essential  to  the  conception  of  the  absolute 

which  the  human  mind  requires,  or  to  its  reality,  that  it 
should  exclude  all  relations,  but  only  a  certain  class  of  relations,  viz., 
those  of  dependent  "being  or  origination.  The  truly  absolute  and  infinite 
is  that  which  is  not  dependent  on  any  other  being  for  its  existence  or  its 
activity.  It  is  no  part  of  its  perfection,  that  it  should  not  be  distinguished 
in  thought  from  that  which  it  is  not  in  fact ;  nor  that  it  should  not  be 
compared  with  objects  not  itself,  under  the  various  relations  of  likeness, 
difference,  production,  and  design,  but  simply  that  it  should  not  hold  cer- 
tain special  relations  to  all  such  objects,  viz.,  the  relations  of  dependence. 
These  relations  imply  a  certain  species  of  limitation  which  is  incompatible 
with  absoluteness  or  unconditionedness.  The  existence  of  those  relations 
is  not  inconsistent  with,  but  is  rather  essential  to  its  completeness  and 
independence. 

8  689.    The  unconditioned,  etc.,  is  not  the  sum  of  all  actual 

The      absolute,  .  f 

etc.,  not  the  total    or  conceivable  being. 

This  view  of  the  absolute  is  closely  connected  with  the 
preceding.  The  denial  of  all  relations  to  the  absolute  involves  the  denial 
of  all  parts  or  entities,  whether  real  or  thought-parts,  which  can  be  related, 
and  this  requires  the  conception  of  the  absolute,  as  the  total  of  all  exist- 
ences and  conceivable  things,  the  To  w  KOI  Ilav,  the  all  which  is  also  one. 


664  THE  tfUMAN  INTELLECT.  §  689, 

This  position  was  actually  taken  by  Spinoza,  who  was  driven  by  logical 
consistency  to  acknowledge  but  one  being  or  substance  in  the  universe. 

Hamilton  (Letter  to  Calderwood)  reasons  as  though  this  were  the  only  possible  con« 
ception  of  the  true  absolute.  Mansel,  (Limits  of  Rel.  Thought^  Lee.  2,)  expressly  asserts : 
"  That  which  is  conceived  as  absolute  and  infinite  must  be  conceived  as  containing  within 
itself  the  sum  not  only  ol'  all  actual,  but  of  all  possible  modes  of  being.  For,  if  any  actual 
mode  can  be  denied  of  it,  it  is  related  to  that  mode,  and  limited  by  it."  "  The  metaphysical 
representation  of  the  Deity,  as  absolute  and  infinite,  must  necessarily,  as  the  profoundeal 
metaphysicians  have  acknowledged,  amount  to  nothing  else  than  the  sum  of  all  reality." 

Of  this  view  of  the  absolute  we  need  only  say,  that  it  is  not 
q^Sedewnotre"  tne  only  possible  conception,  nor  is  it  the  most  rational  con- 
ception which  can  be  taken  of  it.  In  a  gross  quantitative 
sense,  we  may  say  that  the  finite,  plus  the  so-called  infinite,  equals  the 
absolute,  and  that  the  result  is  in  conception  and  in  fact  the  unconditioned 
and  the  infinite,  because  nothing  can  be  aftirmed  of  it  in  the  way  of  dis- 
tinction or  relation.  But  the  question  at  once  returns,  Is  this  the  absolute 
and  the  unconditioned  which  the  mind  necessarily  receives  in  thought  and 
believes  in  fact?  This  absolute  cannot  be  totality,  for  it  is  expressly 
supplied  by  the  mind  in  addition  to  the  finite.  It  is  required  by  the  mind, 
in  order  to  account  for  and  explain  it.  It  cannot  be  that  or  require  that 
which  it  itself  accounts  for  and  explains. 

There  is  a  sense  of  the  absolute  which  is  equivalent  to  the  whole  of  the  finite 
fi^l  h°*al  °t  m  ^s  several  PartS5  witn  all  their  possible  relations,  including  all  the  capacities 
infinite.  of  development  which  are  possible  under  the  conditions  of  space  and  time. 

This  is,  in  fact,  no  infinite  or  absolute  at  all,  in  the  sense  hi  which  it  ia 
required  by  the  mind,  but  only  the  substitution  in  its  place  of  the  largest  and  most  extensive 
quantitative  concept  which  the  finite  can  permit.  The  dependence  is  that  of  each  part  upon 
all  the  others,  these  others  being,  in  like  manner,  dependent  upon  the  whole  combined,  while 
the  absolute,  in  this  sense,  rises  above  a  mere  sum  of  parts,  and  becomes  another  expression  for 
the  finite  universe,  viewed  as  an  organic  whole,  and  subject  to  necessary  processes  of  growth 
and  development.  Whether  these  processes  may  go  on  indefinitely,  each  preparing  the  way 
for  that  which  should  follow ;  or  whether,  after  having  accomplished  a  cycle,  they  return  upon 
one  another,  repeating  themselves  as  they  return,  the  conception  of  the  absolute  is  the  same, 
viz.,  the  whole  of  finite  beings  with  limited  capacities  and  dependences.  Those  who  seek  the 
infinite  and  the  unconditioned  in  this  conception,  substitute  the  finite  for  the  true  infinite. 
They  interchange  a  completed  or  a  completable  finite,  which  they  call  the  absolute,  for  that 
which  is  above  all  finite  conditions. 

The  absolute  not  Unconditioned  and  infinite  cannot  pertain  to  the  relations  of 
f%?nTh°efprop."  quantity.  Quantity,  as  we  have  already  shown,  is,  in  its 
er  abniwte.  essential  nature,  measurable  and  definite.  However  large  may 
be  its  continuous  extent,  as  in  spatial  extension,  t,r  however  great  may 
be  its  sum,  as  in  discrete  number,  it  is  in  its  nature  finite.  The  space  and 
thru  which  make  extension  and  duration  possible,  are  not  themselves 


§  691.  FINITE   AND   CONDITIONED. — INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  655 

quantities,  but  the  conditions  of  quantity.     They  are  not  subject  to  id 
relations,  but  they  render  these  relations  possible. 

The     absolute,    §  690'    The  absolute,  again,  is  not  a  concept  or  entity  which 
oMnteriorlSa-    *s  divested  of  all  interior  relations — a  something  entirely  one 

and  simple. 

Those  who  contend  that  the  absolute  does  not  admit  the  idea  of  parts, 
because  parts  imply  division  and  relationship,  are  driven  by  a  logical 
necessity  to  the  conclusion  that  it  must  be  one  and  indivisible  in  parts  and 
relations.  Hence  it  has  been  inferred  that  the  absolute  cannot  be  a 
personal  being.  A  person  distinguishes  himself  from  that  which  is  not 
himself,  his  own  being  from  his  acts,  and  both  from  their  objects,  whether 
these  be  real  or  spiritual.  His  acts  must  be  successive  to  one  another  also, 
and  thus  be  separable  and  distinguishable  in  time.  All  these  divisible 
parts  and  distinguishable  relations  are,  it  is  urged,  entirely  incompatible 
with  the  concept  and  reality  of  the  absolute. 

These  views  are  held  by  those  who  deny  the  possibility  of  personality  in  God,  as  well  aa 
by  those  who,  like  Kant,  Mansel,  and  Hamilton,  believe  that  God  is  personal,  but  deny  that, 
when  conceived  as  personal,  He  can  be  known  as  an  absolute  Being. 

It  is  enough  to  say  of  this  view  of  the  absolute,  as  has  been  said  already,  that  the 
absolute  does  not  necessarily  exclude  the  possibility  of  parts  or  relations.  The  absence  of 
necessary  dependence  upon  the  finite  and  the  complete  dependence  of  the  infinite  upon  itself, 
does  not  imply  such  a  simplicity  or  oneness  of  being,  as  excludes  complexness  or  personality. 

...      8  691.    Having  defined  what  the  absolute  is  not,  we  proceed 

The       absolute, 

etc.,  are  know-    next  to  assert  that  the  absolute  and  the  infinite  is  knowable 
by  a  finite  mind.     Not  only  can  such  a  mind  know  that  it  is, 
but  it  can  know  what  it  is. 

Kant,  Hamilton,  and  Mansel  all  hold  that  we  cannot  know,  though  we  may 
Views  of  Kant,  believe  that  the  infinite  exists,  simply  because  the  conception  of  the  infinite 
Mansel.  '  is  not  within  the  grasp  of  the  finite.  Kant  teaches  that  the  reason  why  we 

cannot  know  the  infinite,  is,  that  our  faculties  of  knowing  both  the  finite  and 
the  infinite  have  merely  a  subjective  necessity  and  validity,  and  therefore  we  cannot  trust  these 
results  as  objectively  true.  Moreover,  if  we  apply  them  to  the  infinite,  we  are  involved  in 
perpetual  antinomies  or  contradictions.  Our  only  apprehension  of  the  absolute  is,  therefore, 
by  the  practical  reason,  and  comes  in  the  way  of  a  moral  necessity  through  the  categorical 
imperative,  which  requires  us  to  receive  certain  verities  as  true.  Jacobi,  Schleier  mocker,  and 
others  say,  that  we  reach  these  by  faith  or  feeling,  and  not  by  knowledge.  Hamilton  says  that 
we  find  ourselves  impotent  to  know  them,  in  consequence  of  the  contradictions  which  the 
attempt  involves.  But  he  expressly  asserts  "that  the  sphere  of  our  belief  is  much  more 
extensive  than  the  sphere  of  our  knowledge  ;  and  therefore,  when  I  deny  that  the  infinite  can 
by  us  be  known,  I  am  far  from  denying  that  by  us  it  is,  must,  and  ought  to  be  believed.  This 
I  have  indeed  anxiously  evinced,  both  by  reasoning  and  authority."  (Letter  to  Calderwood.} 
"  Thus,  by  a  wonderful  revelation,  we  are  thus  in  the  consciousness  of  our  inability  to  conceive 
aught  above  the  relative  and  finite,  inspired  with  the  belief  in  the  existence  of  something 
unconditioned,  beyond  the  sphere  of  all  comprehensible  reality."  (Rev.  of  Cousin.)  It  will  be 
noticed,  that  what  Hamilton  teaches  here  is  not  that  the  absolute  cannot  be  adequately  known, 
but  that  it  cannot  be  known  at  all.  because  it  cannot  be  conceived.  A  similar  doctrine 


656  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT 

iras  taught  by  Peter  Browne  in  his  Procedure  and  Limit*  of  the  Human  Understanding,  and 
Things  Divine  and  Supernatural,  etc. 

Of  this  view,  by  whomsoever  it  may  be  held,  it  is  enough  to  say,  at  this  point,  that  it  ia 
impossible  to  conceive  of  an  act  of  faith  or  belief  which  does  not  include  the  element  ot 
knowledge.  Faith,  or  belief,  may  exclude  definite  knowledge,  reasoned  knowledge,  etc.,  but  it 
cannot  exclude  some  kind  of  intellectual  apprehension.  But  of  this  more  will  be  said  here- 
tfter. 

Herbert  Spencer  reasons  against  Hamilton  and  Mansel,  to  the  conclusion  that  we  cat 
Herbert  Spencer  know  thai  the  Infinite  exists,  but  we  cannot  know  what  it  is.  He  contends  that  we  can 
dissents  from  know  that  it  is,  because,  "  To  say  that  we  cannot  know  the  Absolute  is,  by  implication, 
these,  to  affirm  that  there  is  an  Absolute.  In  the  very  denial  of  our  power  to  know  what  the 

Absolute  is,  there  lies  hidden  the  assumption  that  it  is,  etc.  Besides  that  definite  con- 
sciousness of  which  logic  formulates  the  laws,  there  is  also  an  indefinite  consciousness  which  cannot  be 
formulated." — First  Principles,  P.  I.  c.  iv.  §26.  Spencer,  it  should  be  observed,  contends  that  we  cannot 
know  what  it  is  on  the  grounds  urged  by  Kant  and  Hamilton,  viz.,  that  knowledge,  or  as  he  would  term 
it,  formulated  knowledge,  is  cognizant  of  the  finite  alone.  He  does  not  explain  why,  in  assuming  that  the 
Absolute  is,  we  are  not  compelled  to  know,  in  some  sense,  what  it  is  ;  why,  in  the  indefinite  consciousness 
out  of  which  the  definite  consciousness  is  evolved  or  formulated,  there  is  not  necessarily  implied  that  the 
one  bears  some  relation  to  the  other. 

It  deserves  to  be  noticed,  that  what  Spencer  claims  for  knowledge  he  denies  to  faith.  Indeed,  he  shuts 
the  door  forever  upon  all  trustworthy  knowledge  of  the  Absolute.  All  our  conceptions  of  the  what  must, 
in  his  view,  be  forever  inadequate.  They  are  simply  the  best  symbols  which  we  can  shape  concerning 
it,  the  growth  of  our  individual  development  or  of  that  of  our  age;  concerning  which  we  can  only  know  that 
while  one  is  better  than  another,  they  are  all  necessarily  false,  because  certain  to  be  outgrown  and  laid 
aside.  It  would  seem  that  a  writer  who  affirms  this  so  positively  of  the  Infinite,  and  of  the  capacities  of 
the  human  race  to  know  it  for  all  future  time,  must  have,  somehow,  formulated  the  knowledge  that  ha 
expresses  so  positively. 

It  is  curious  to  notice  that  Hobbes  makes  the  same  distinction  between  the  knowledge 

that  and  the  knowledge  what,  though  not  in  precisely  the  same  meaning.    "  And  foras- 

tafinite  °'  much  as  God  Almighty  is  incomprehensible,  it  followeth  that  we  can  have  no  conception  or 

ima^e  of  the  Deity ;  and  consequently  all  his  Attributes  signify  our  inability  and  defect 

of  Power  to  conceive  any  thing  concerning  his  nature,  and  not  any  conception  of  the 

same,  except  only  this,  that  there  is  a  God  :  For  the  effects  we  acknowledge  naturally,  do  include  a  power 

of  their  producing,  before  they  were  produced ;   and  that  Power  presupposeth  something  existent  that 

hath  such  power,"  etc.     "  And  thus  all  that  will  consider  may  know  ihat  God  is,  though  not  what  he  is." — 

Of  Human  Nature,  chap.  11. 

We  observe  that  Hobbes  must  mean  by  a  knowledge  of  the  what,  a  complete  and  defined  knowledge, 
for  he  says  that  there  is  one  what  which  we  do  know  of  God,  viz.,  that  he  is  the  producer  of  all  things. 


The  absolute    §  692.   Against  these  views,  we  contend  that  the  absolute  is 
tyTht^agiS    knowable — that  man  can  both  know  that  it  is  and  what  it  is. 
But,  first  of  all,  we  would  define  the  sense  in  which  it  cannot 
be  known,  either  as  that  or  what. 

(a.)  It  cannot  be  known  by  the  imagination,  either  as  representative  or 
creative.  The  imagination  can  only  picture  that  which  is  limited  by  space 
and  time,  and  which  is  possessed  of  limited  powers  of  matter  or  spirit.  The 
absolute  and  infinite  is  not  spatial  or  enduring,  and  has  not  the  attributes 
of  matter  or  spirit,  as  limited  by  space  and  time.  It  cannot,  therefore,  be 
either  imaged  or  pictured.  It  can  only  be  known  as  related  to  that  which  is 
in  time  and  space,  which  is  material  and  spiritual,  etc.  A  relation  cannot 
be  imaged,  though  related  finite  objects  can  be.  While,  therefore,  it  is 
necessary  to  use  the  imagination  in  order  to  know  the  absolute,  because  it 
pictures  the  finite  objects  which  suppose  and  require  the  infinite  and  abso- 


§692.  FINITE    AND    CONDITIONED. — INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  65? 

lute,   tlie   imagination   cannot  picture   tbe   absolute  itself — i.  e.,  in   any 
proper  or  useful  sense. 

It  would  be  more  exact  to  say  that  the  analogies  between  any  finite  objects 
The  proposition  and  the  infinite  are  so  general  and  attenuated,  that  the  imagination  can 
render  no  available  or  efficient  service  by  introducing  the  images  of  the 
finite.  It  is  true  that,  if  we  can  know  what  the  absolute  is,  we  can  form 
some  notion  of  it,  and  this  we  can  do  only  by  means  of  some  relation  which  it  holds  to  the 
finite.  It  is  true,  also,  that  every  relation,  however  general,  can  be  imaged  or  illustrated  by 
Borne  finite  object  in  which  it  is  exemplified.  In  other  words,  the  infinite,  to  be  known  as  a 
what,  must  be  known  in  some  points  of  likeness  to  the  finite  ;  but  the  likeness  may  be  so  very 
general,  and  the  unlikenesses  or  differences  so  numerous  and  striking,  that,  the  attempt  to 
image  the  one  by  the  other  will  fail  to  produce  the  advantages  which  commonly  accrue  from 
the  process,  while  the  finite  image  will  suggest  so  many  misleading  and  bewildering  associa- 
tions,  as  to  embarrass  and  confuse  the  mind.  (§  371.) 

Tftis  explains  why  such  writers  as  Bishop  Brown,  who  has  been  followed  by  Whately  and 
others,  contend  that,  while  there  is  no  proper  similarity,  there  is  an  analogy  between  the  finite 
and  the  infinite,  or  the  human  and  the  divine.  The  alleged  analogy,  it  is  obvious,  is  only  a 
more  general  similarity,  which,  so  far  as  it  goes,  allows  of  classification  and  inference,  but 
which  we  are  exceedingly  liable  to  mistake  and  overestimate.  Thus  interpreted,  their  doo- 
trine,  and  the  cautions  which  it  embodies,  is  true  and  salutary,  and  needs  to  be  continually 
brought  to  mind. 

Thus,  the  absolute,  if  it  be  any  thing,  is  a  being  or  entity  in  the  largest  sense  of  the  term  ; 
that  is,  it  is  like  every  finite  being  in  this  one  respect,  that  it  is.  But  it  is  of  no  avail  to 
image  so  vague  and  general  a  notion  as  this  by  any  finite  being.  But  again,  it  is,  as  we  shall 
see,  that  on  which  every  finite  being,  and  the  finite  universe  as  a  whole,  depend  for  their 
existence,  and  their  power  to  act.  The  general  relation  of  dependence  holds  between  one 
finite  object  and  another,  in  the  several  forms  of  cause,  reason,  and  constituent. 

But  to  image  the  relation  of  dependence  which  exists  be- 
to  image  ?he  ab-  tween  the  infinite  and  the  finite  by  the  special  and  limited 

examples  of  it,  such  as  exist  between  different  limited  beings, 
is  either  superfluous  or  misleading.  The  relation  may  be  known  as  so 
general,  like  that  of  simple  entity,  as  not  to  need  an  example  ;  or  the  use 
of  an  example  introduces  many  extraneous  and  unimportant  circumstances, 
which  are  yet  conceived  as  essential  to  the  relation  in  question.  Thus, 
when  it  is  reasoned  that  self-existence,  personality,  the  creation  of  another 
than  itself,  the  possession  of  a  complex  nature — one  or  all,  are  incompatible 
with  the  true  infinite  and  unconditioned,  the  reasoning  is  founded  on  the 
attempted  exemplification  of  the  infinite  by  the  finite,  and  on  the  unessen- 
tial accessories  which  the  image  presents.  Logically  expressed,  it  is  a  case 
of  fattacia  accidentis. 

The  antinomies  of  Kant  and  the  essential  conlmdictions  cf  H&willon,  each  of  which  seem 
The  antinomies  necessary  to  the  mind,  and  each  of  which  exclude  the  otner,  arfl  all  made  by  the  mind 
of  Kant  and  itself  in  the  attempt  to  illustrate  the  infinite  by  the  finite.  The  antinomies  of  Kant 
Hamilton.  are  incompatibilities  between  an  image  and  a  relation  which  the  inxa<?e  exemplifies,  or 

between  two  images  adduced  to  illustrate  different  relations,  or  between  two  con 
which  are  not  both  necessary  *o  the  mind.    The  solution  of  them  is  to  be  found  in  a  re-stixteraeot  of 

42 


658  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §693. 

conceptions  between  wh.ch  these  incompatibilities  are  said  to  exist.  Thus,  for  example,  in  the  alleged  an- 
tinomy involved  in  the  propositions  the  world  is  in  time  and  space  and  is  neither  finite  nor  infinite  ;  the  con- 
tradiction lies  between  a  fact  or  image  borrowed  from  perception  and  experience  and  an  alleged  d  priori 
necessity.  But  the  incompatibility  of  the  one  with  the  other  arises  from  a  misconception  of  what  is  involved 
in  our  conception  of  the  infinite,  a  confounding  of  the  extended  in  space  with  space  itself.  "When  Hamilton 
says  we  must  conceive  of  space  as  a  bounded  or  not  bounded  sphere,  he  introduces  the  image  of  an  object 
existing  in  space  and  limited  in  space,  in  order  to  illustrate  space  itself,  and  confounds  the  one  with  tho 
other.  To  introduce  the  image  of  an  extended  object  in  order  to  show  that  space  exists  and  holds  some 
relation  to  every  extended  object  is  legitimate,  but  to  substitute  the  limited,  i.  e.  an  extended  object,  lor 
the  true  unlimited,  i.  e.  the  space  which  makes  extension  possible,  and  then  to  be  embarrassed  by  the  in- 
compatibilities of  our  own  creation,  is  to  fall  into  the  very  serious  error  of  confounding  the  image  with  the 
notion  (the  Anschauung  with  the  Begriff),  against  which  Hamilton  expressly  cautions  his  pupils. 

The  absolute,  §  693.  We  observe  still  further,  (b.)  that  the  absolute,  etc., 
deduceToTiogi-  though  knowable,  is  not  a  notion  that  is  the  product  of 
reasoning,  inductive  or  deductive^  or  can  be  defined  in  a 
system  of  logical  classification. 

It  cannot  be  inferred  by  induction,  because,  as  has  been  shown,  it  is 
assumed  in  the  very  process  of  induction,  as  its  necessary  condition. 
Induction  has  no  meaning  and  no  validity,  unless  we  assume  that  the 
universe  is  constituted  in  such  a  way  as  to  presuppose  an  absolute  and 
unconditioned  originator  of  its  forces  and  laws. 

It  cannot  be  deduced  by  syllogistic  reasoning,  because,  as  has  been 
shown,  all  deduction  rests  either  on  the  previous  process  of  induction,  or 
on  the  intuitions  of  time  and  space.  But  induction  requires  the  absolute 
as  its  condition. 

Nor  can  the  concept  be  defined  for  the  ends  of  logical  classification. 
The  infinite  is  not  properly  coordinate  with  the  finite,  for  the  reason  that 
it  must  be  assumed  as  the  ground  of  all  such  classification.  Every  notion 
or  concept  of  every  finite  existence  implies  the  unconditioned,  and  holds 
some  relation  to  it,  but  these  relations  are  not  therefore  used  in  defining 
the  notion  for  logical  or  scientific  ends.  The  relations  of  substance  and 
attribute,  as  used  in  such  definition  and  classification,  are  applicable  only 
to  objects,  which  are  dependent  for  their  existence  and  their  relations  on 
the  fixed  conditions  of  finite  being.  They  imply  the  presence  of  time  and 
space  relations,  and  the  limitation  of  the  powers  of  created  beings  by  the 
laws  which  are  determined  by  these  relations.  The  cause  and  effect,  the 
adaptations  and  ends,  which  logic  usually  recognizes  in  its  operations,  are 
fixed  in  a  similar  manner  by  settled  forces  and  laws. 

Again :  the  unconditioned  and  the  absolute  cannot  be  called  a  summum  genus,  under 
which  are  ranged  the  various  ranks  of  the  conditioned  and  the  limited.  It  holds  certain 
common  relations  to  every  species,  but  these  relations  are  not  generic.  Space  is  not  generic 
to  all  extended  objects,  though  it  is  essential  to  the  conception  and  reality  of  all.  Time  is  not 
generic  to  enduring  objects,  though  it  is  the  condition  of  them  all.  God  is  not  a  mere 
tummum  genus — a  highest  abstraction,  including  all  finite  beings  under  itself — though  He  ia 
the  necessary  ground  of  the  existence  of  each  and  of  all. 

The  so-called  categories— i.  e.,  generic  relations  which  are  supreme  and  final  in  scientific 
definition  and  classification — cannot  be  applied  to  the  infinite,  because  the  infinite  is  required 


§  694.  FINITE   AND   CONDITIONED.  —  INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  659 

and  assumed  for  the  explanation  of  these  very  categories.    These  categories  rest  upon  the 
infinite,  and  presuppose  it. 


The  absolute  the    §  694>    ^e  next  ^rm  positively  that  the  absolute  is  and 
Stelate  °f  the    can  ^e  known  as  tf16  correlate  which  must  be   necessarily 

assumed  to  explain  and  account  for  the  finite  universe. 
If  the  absolute  is  necessary  to  explain  the  finite,  then  it  holds  some 
relations  to  it.  If  it  is  its  correlate,  it  must  be  connected  with  it  by  some 
relations.  What  these  relations  are,  it  is  not  needful  to  inquire.  All  that 
we  need  here  to  urge,  is,  that  it  is  so  far  from  being  true,  because  it  is 
absolute,  it  is  not  related,  that,  on  the  contrary,  it  cannot  be  the  absolute 
without  being  known  as  related.  We  cannot  know  that  it  w,  without 
knowing,  to  a  certain  degree,  what  it  is.  If  it  is  necessary  to  the  mind 
to  assume  the  absolute  in  order  to  explain  the  finite,  then  the  finite  is  cer- 
tainly explained  by  these  relations  which  it  holds  to  the  absolute.  These 
relations  must  be  real,  else  our  knowledge  is  a  fiction.  They  must  be 
capable  of  expression  in  language.  The  relations  between  the  finite  and 
the  infinite  need  not,  of  course,  be  the  same  as  those  which  exist  between 
the  finite  and  the  finite,  but  they  must  be  real  and  cognizable  relations. 

We  have  already  shown  that  the  categories  required  for  scientific  knowledge 
Of  course  related  cannot  be  applied  to  the  infinite,  but  it  does  not  follow  that  there  may  not 

be  other  relations  which  may  be  applied  to  it.     Whether  these  have  not  also 

some  possible  application  to  the  finite,  deserves  a  question.  It  would  seem 
that,  if  this  were  not  the  case,  then  the  language  which  we  apply  to  the  finite  could  not,  with 
any  meaning,  be  applied  to  the  infinite.  Substance  and  attributes,  the  first  as  permanent 
under  the  fixed  constitution  of  things,  and  the  second  as  defining  classes  and  species  under 
this  constitution,  are  not  applicable  to  the  self-existent  originator  of  the  finite  ;  but  being  and 
action  are  applicable  to  both,  though  the  concrete  to  which  they  are  applied  is,  in  the  one 
case,  far  more  full  in  import  and  superior  in  dignity  than  in  the  other.  A  self-existent  being 
is  a  being  as  truly  and  far  more  eminently  than  a  dependent  being,  but  both  are  beings.  He 
has  powers  no  less  really  than  the  beings  whose  existence  he  not  only  originates,  but  whose 
capacities  to  act  he  imparts.  To  originate,  to  produce,  or  to  create,  are  functions  which  are 
affirmable  of  one  who  originates  his  own  existence  and  his  very  power  to  act,  as  truly  as  of 
one  whose  power  to  produce  or  to  act  is  originated  by  another. 

It  is  not  philosophical  to  assert  that,  when  we  affirm  a  relation  of  the  infinite, 
Relations  do  not  we  must  connect  with  it  all  those  limitations  which  pertain  to  a  similar  rela- 
ti1™.  Ve  tion  in  the  finite.  This  would  be  the  same  as  to  say  that  there  can  be  no 

likeness  where  there  is  a  difference,  which  is  equivalent  tu  asserting  that 
there  can  be  no  generalization  at  all.  We  need  not  carry  over  to  the  infinite  the  misleading 
images  which  belong  to  the  finite,  nor  the  delusive  associations  which  pertinaciously  adhere  to 
it  ;  but  to  deny  that  there  are  relations  which  are  common  to  the  two,  is  to  deny  that  we  can 
know  the  infinite  at  all.  To  say,  with  Herbert  Spencer,  that  we  cannot  believe  in  a  Creator, 
because  if  we  do,  we  must  conceive  of  Him  as  a  carpenter,  working  with  tools  and  upon  mate- 
rials provided,  and  to  dispose  of  the  belief  in  creative  energy,  by  the  phrase,  the  carpenter 
theory,  is  to  betray  some  ignorance  of  generalization,  if  not  more  serious  defects  in  respect 
of  both  taste  and  fairness.  Even  an  "  indefinite  consciousness  "  that  the  infinite  is,  muei 
Involve  some  knowledge  of  its  relations. 


680  THE    HUMAN   INTELLECT. 

§  695.    The  apprehension  of  the  absolute  is  knowledge,  and 

The  absolute  ap-     '  „    •  7  /•    7  • 

prehended      by     HOt  faith  OF  jeeLing. 

Hamilton  opposes  the  one  to  the  other,  as  faith  to  knowl* 
edge,  because  he  affirms  that  to  know  is  always  "  to  condition ; "  and 
therefore  if  we  know  the  unconditioned,  we  must  condition  the  uncon- 
ditioned, and  limit  the  infinite.  His  doctrine  is,  that  cwe  believe  the 
infinite,  but  do  not  know  it  to  be.  The  sphere  of  our  faith,  is  wider  than 
the  sphere  of  our  knowledge.'  But  to  know  as  related,  is  not  the  same  as 
to  condition  in  the  special  meaning  in  which  the  unconditioned  and  the 
infinite  are  opposed  to  the  conditioned  and  the  finite.  The  knowledge  of 
the  unconditioned  may  be  ct  priori,  intuitive,  and  necessary,  but  it  is 
knowledge  nevertheless.  It  may  be  higher  than  any  reasoned  or  logically- 
defined  knowedge,  but  it  is  still  knowledge. 

To  call  it  faith,  in  any  but  a  purely  technical  and  private  sense  of  the  word,  is  to  put  it 
out  of  all  relation  to  knowledge.  To  contrast  it  with  knowledge  in  the  essential  characteristics 
of  knowledge,  is  to  weaken  the  very  foundations  on  which  both  knowledge  and  science  are 
made  to  rest.  Especially  is  this  the  case,  if  this  so-called  faith  is  referred  to  an  impotence  of 
the  intellect,  and  is  made  to  depend  on  the  conscious  imbecility  and  known  limitations  of  the 
powers.  This  is  so  far  from  being  true,  that,  to  know  in  this  way,  is  to  know  in  the  highest 
sense  possible  to  the  mind.  For  if  we  cannot  assume  the  infinite,  we  can  neither  define  nor 
reason  the  finite.  Without  the  intuition  of  the  unconditioned,  it  is  impossible  to  have  any 
grounded  science  of  the  conditioned. 

§  696.    But  though  we  have  a  real  and  proper  knowledge  of 

Not  known  ex-     °         _  . 

haustiveiy  or  the  absolute,  we  can  by  no  means  have  an  adequate  and  ex« 
haustive,  or  what  is  often  called  an  absolute  knowledge  of  it. 
But  this  forms  no  objection  to  the  reality  of  this  knowledge.  Indeed,  an 
absolute  knowledge,  even  of  the  finite,  is  only  ideally  conceivable,  but,  in  fact, 
impossible.  An  absolute  knowledge  of  all  the  relations  of  an  individual 
object — e.  g.,  a  mass  of  rock,  a  tree,  an  animal,  or  a  man,  implies  a  com- 
plete  mastery  of  all  the  relations  which  each  holds  to  every  other  object 
in  the  universe,  in  respect  to  its  properties  and  ends — in  other  words,  an 
exhaustive  knowledge  of  the  universe  itself.  The  most  sagacious  and 
widely-reaching  philosopher  does  not  pretend  to  have  attained  such  knowl- 
edge. He  does  not  believe  even,  that  the  assembled  knowledge  of  all 
the  students  of  matter  and  spirit  represents  such  a  mastery  over  the 
knowable.  He  does  not  pretend  to  an  exhaustive  knowledge  even  of  the 
general  properties  and  laws  which  constitute  and  rule  the  universe.  He 
knows,  concerning  this  universe,  that  there  is  much  that  is  knowable 
which  is  not  yet  known.  How  does  he  know  this  ?  .Does  the  fact  that  it 
is  ideally  knowable,  prove  that  it  will  be  actually  known  ?  Does  the  fact 
that  these  relations  are  ideally  finite  prove  that  they  will,  in  fact,  ever  be 
mastered  by  any  finite  intellect  ?  If  not,  then,  in  the  finite  there  is  tc 
man  the  as  yet  unmastered  and  perhaps  the  unmas'.erable  /  and  that  is  t« 
him  the  infinite* 


FINITE  AND   CONDITIONED. — INFINITE  AND  ABSOLUTE.  66  i 

For  man,  the  unexhausted  finite  must  ever  be  as  the  infinite.    But  the  fa  it  that 

The  finite  uni-     ne  knowg  the  finite  in  part,  is  not  inconsistent  with  the  proposition  that  he 

rerse  infinite  to 

DUI  knowledge.       knows  it  in  truth.     Nor  ought  the  fact  that  he  knows  the  infinite  but  in  part, 

to  be  used  to  show  that,  so  far  as  he  knows  it,  he  does  not  know  it  as  it  is 
To  man  there  is,  in  both  finite  and  infinite,  a  background  always  unexplored.  Perhaps  in  th« 
Snite  it  never- can  be  explored  by  man.  If  so,  then,  even  the  finite  is  as  the  infinite  to  him. 
The  limited  forest,  into  the  mazes  of  which  the  child  has  not  yet  penetrated,  the  shallow 
abyss  the  depths  of  which  he  has  not  ventured  to  sound,  are  to  him  the  symbol  of  infinitude 
So  is  the  universe,  finite  though  it  be,  as  yet  infinite  to  the  philosopher,  boast  though  he  ma> 
of  absolute  knowledge,  or  reject  though  he  will  the  possibility  of  an  infinite  which  is  placed 
forever  beyond  the  mastery  of  every  finite  intellect. 

self -existence  §  69^'  ^n  both  finite  and  infinite,  there  is  a  common  mys- 
finTt™°and°  the  teiT>  w^ich  cannot  be  overcome,  and  that  is  the  mystery  of 
self-existence.  Whether  we  transform  the  finite  into  the  so- 
called  infinite,  by  making  of  its  powers  and  capacities  of  self-development 
an  ideal  absolute  without  intelligence  or  personality,  or  whether  we  accept 
as  the  real  absolute  a  rational  person,  either  must  be  self- existent.  It  does 
not  relieve  the  mystery,  to  accept  the  fact  of  self-evolved  and  self-evolving 
forces  and  laws  ;  nor  does  it  increase  it,  to  accept  the  fact  of  a  self-existent 
creating  intelligence  whom  we  assume  to  explain  the  order  and  thought  of 
the  finite  universe. 

Self-existence  is  as  inexplicable  when  it  is  divided  and  diffused  among  the  separate 
integers  of  a  countless  multitude  of  mutually  developed  and  dependent  forces,  beings,  and 
laws,  as  when  it  is  gathered  and  centered  into  one  thinking  and  acting  person.  Indeed,  self- 
existence,  and  not  personality  or  intelligence,  constitutes  the  real  mystery  as  it  emphasizes  the 
peculiar  import  of  the  absolute  and  the  unconditioned.  If,  then,  we  must  accept  a  self-existent 
absolute,  if  we  know  that  it  is,  and  can  know  hi  a  degree  what  it  is,  the  inquiry  returns,  What 
Absolute  must  we  assume,  and  on  what  grounds  do  we  assume  that  it  is  ?  To  this  we  reply : 

§  698.  The  absolute  is  a  thinking  agent.  The  universe  is  a 
tkinkfn^agent*  thought  as  well  as  a  thing.  As  fraught  with  design,  it  reveals 

thought  as  well  as  force.  The  thought  includes  the  origina- 
tion of  the  forces  and  their  laws,  as  well  as  the  combination  and  use  of 
them.  These  thoughts  must  include  the  whole  universe ;  it  follows  then 
that  the  universe  is  controlled  by  a  single  thought,  or  the  thought  of  an 
individual  thinker.  If  gravitation  everywhere  prevails,  and  gravitation  is 
a  thought  as  well  as  a  thing,  then  the  universe,  so  far  as  it  depends  on  and 
is  affected  by  gravitation,  is  a  single  thought.  But  a  thought  implies  a 
thinking  agent,  and  if  the  universe  is  a  single  thought,  it  was  thought  by 
one  thinking  agent.  That  this  thinking  person  should  be  self-existent,  is, 
as  we  have  seen,  no  greater  mystery  than  a  self-existent  thing. 
Must  be  assumed  §  699-  We  assume  that  this  absolute  exists,  in  order  that 
fhcngnt\ndasc£  thought  and  science  may  be  possible.  We  do  not  demonstrate 
cnoe>  his  being  by  deduction,  because  we  must  believe  it  in  ordei 

to  reason  deductively.     We  do  not  infer  it  by  induction,  because  indue 


662  THE   HUMAN   INTELLECT.  §699 

tion  supposes  it ;  but  we  show  that  every  man  who  believes  in  either,  or  in 
both,  must  assume  it,  or  give  up  his  confidence  in  both  these  processes  and 
their  results.  We  do  not  demonstrate  that  God  exists,  but  that  every  man 
must  assume  that  He  is.  We  analyze  the  several  processes  of  knowledge 
into  their  underlying  assumptions,  and  we  find  that  the  assumption  which 
underlies  them  all  is  a  self-existent  intelligence,  who  not  only  can  be 
known  by  man,  but  must  be  known  by  man  in  order  that  man  may  know 
any  thing  besides.  In  analyzing  a  psychological  process,  we  develop  and 
demonstrate  a  metaphysical  truth,  and  that  is  the  truth  which  the  un- 
sophisticated intellect  of  child  and  man  requires  and  accepts,  that  there  is 
a  self-existent  personal  intelligence,  on  whom  the  universe  depends  for  the 
beings  and  relations  of  which  it  consists.  We  are  not  alone  justified, 
we  are  compelled  to  conclude  our  analysis  of  the  human  intellect  with  the 
assertion,  that  its  various  powers  and  processes  suppose  and  assume  that 
there  is  an  uncreated  thinker,  whose  thoughts  can  be  interpreted  by  the 
human  intellect  which  is  made  in  His  image. 

But  it  may  be  asked,  If  there  is  an  unconditioned  person,  what  are  space  and  time  ?  Are 
these  also  infinite  and  unconditioned  ?  If  so,  are  there  not  three  infinities,  each  independent 
of  the  other  in  certain  relations,  while  each,  in  other  respects,  limits  the  other?  If  this  be 
so,  there  is  no  single  unconditioned,  but  time,  space,  and  God  taken  together  form  the  abso- 
lute when  combined  in  one  as  mutally  dependent.  This,  it  might  be  urged,  involves  a  sort 
of  Pantheism,  which  is  logical,  if  not  material ;  a  Pantheism  which  limits  the  thoughts  and 
plans  of  God,  if  not  His  creative  activity,  by  the  fixed  conditions  of  space  and  time. 

We  reply :  Time  and  space  are,  as  has  been  shown,  not  limited  or  finite,  as  are  extended 
matter  and  enduring  spirit.  In  so  far,  they  are  infinite  in  the  sense  explained.  Moreover, 
they  must  be  assumed  as  the  correlates  which  condition  the  possibility  of  all  finite  and  created 
being  (§  582) ;  with  respect  to  these  they  are  themselves  unconditioned.  But  we  have  shown 
(§  689)  that  the  proper  unconditioned  and  absolute  do  not  pertain  to  relations  of  quantity, 
though  it  may  be  described  by  them  (§  168),  but  that  it  describes  absolute  independence  for 
existence  and  the  power  to  act.  We  know  too  little  of  time  and  space  to  assert  that,  in  any 
such  relation,  they  are  independent  of  God.  They  are  used  as  the  means  of  measuring  Hia 
acts,  of  regulating  the  mightiest  agents  which  He  creates,  and  of  manifesting  many  of  His 
most  comprehensive  designs  (§  629).  They  are  made  the  actual  condition  of  finite  being,  in 
any  and  every  form.  We  may  say  of  time  and  space  that  they  are  as  truly  the  thoughts  of 
God,  as  the  powers  which  they  measure  and  control.  If  we  cannot  bring  them  under  the 
categories  of  created  being  for  the  reasons  already  given  (§  585),  we  have  no  reason  to  ascribe 
to  them  self-existence,  but  may  certainly  know  that  whatever  they  are,  they  do  not  share  in 
that  independent  self-existence  which  we  ascribe  to  Him  alone  who  is  the  living  and  true  God. 


INDEX. 


AJbbot,    T.  K,  Review    of   Berkeley's  Theory  of 

Vision,  165. 

Abelard,  doctrine  of  universals,  406. 
Absolute,   (see  Infinite  ;)  original  meaning  of,  650 
the  Hegelian  sense,  do. ;  used  in  the  concrete 
and  abstract,  650. 

Abstract  thinking,  384 ;  concepts,  394. 
Abstraction,  389. 
Acquired  sense-perceptions,  chapter  on,  15^-177; 
examples  of,  1 58  ;  defined,  1 59 ;  importance  of, 
159  ;  many  gained  very  early,  159  ;  of  smell  and 
hearing,  160  ;  of  sight,  161 ;  of  distance,  of  mag 
nitude,  Ifil,  2  ;  of  size,  162 ;  mistaken  judgments 
of  both,  163  ;  of  percepts  appropriate  to  touch, 
163,  4 ;  of  place  of  sensations,  106  ;  of  control  of 
bodily  motions,. 166,  7 ;  provisions  for,  167,  8 ;  how 
controlled,  1C8-1 70;  involve  memory,  173,  and 
induction,  do.;  infants  capable  of  such  induc- 
tions, 174,  5  ;  objections,  175,  6,  from  the  case  of 
animals,  166,  7  ;  of  percepts  of  eye  and  hand,  186 ; 
other  acquisitions  of  the  infant,  189. 

Activity  of  the  soul,  essential  to  its  nature,  23 ;  essen- 
tial to  knowledge,  61 ;  in  sense-perception,  chapter 
on,  210-220;  is  attested  by  consciousness,  211 ; 
varies  in  energy,  211,  2  ;  success  depends  on  at- 
tention, 212  ;  differs  in  different  men,  212,  3 ; 
shown  in  innervation  of  organs,  213  ;  directed 
to  different  objects,  214 ;  selects  and  combines, 
214 ;  separates  single  objects  in  infancy,  215 ; 
continued  through  life,  216  ;  illustrated  in  dif- 
ferent men,  217;  a  limited  activity,  218;  easily 
performed,  do. 

Adaptation,  517  ;  how  related  to  design,  do. 

^Esthetics,  its  relations  to  psychology,  14. 

Agassiz,  on  species,  426 ;  on  classification,  492. 

Albertus  Magnus,  on  universals,  406. 
-^Analogy  of  nature,  472. 

Analysis,  involved  in  knowledge,  67. 

Analytical  reasoning  in  mathematics,  454. 

Anthropology,  denned,  7  ;  subdivided,  do.;  assumes 
final  cause,  634. 

Antinomies  of  Kant,  and  Hamilton  564,  5. 

Apperception,  85,  6. 

Aristotle,  view  of  life,  29  ;  division  of  powers  of  the 
soul,  49;  theory  of  sense-perception,  224;  enu- 
meration of  laws  of  association,  276  ;  on  univer- 
sals,  404,  5  ;  regarded  the  middle  term  as  causal, 
451 ;  fourfold  division  of  causes,  593  ;  on  primary 
and  secondary  qualities,  637. 

Arnauld,  theory  of  sense-perception,  229. 

Association  of  ideas,  253,  4 ;  chapter  on,  270-300 ; 


other  terms  for,  270 ;  importance  and  mystery 
of,  do. ;  method  of  discussion,  271  ;  division  o$ 
do.;  not  explained  by  bodily  organization,  272 ; 
defect  of  all  physiological  explanations,  273 ; 
actual  influence  of  the  body,  do. ;  exercised  by 
means  of  psychical  states,  274;  vital  sensations 
may  act  as  links  of  association,  274,  5  ;  ideas  do 
not  attract  one  another,  275  ;  crude  statements 
of  Hobbes  and  others,  275,  6 ;  relations  do  not 
attract  ideas,  276 ;  relations  stated  as  three, 
seven,  two,  and  one,  276,  7  ;  law  of  redintegra- 
tion, 279 ;  how  far  satisfactory  279,  80 ;  objec- 
tion, 281,  2  ;  the  real  solution,  282 ;  explains 
phenomena,  282-5;  associations  with  sensible 
objects,  283 ;  of  home,  284 ;  relations  of  acquisi- 
tion and  reproduction  the  same,  285,  6 ;  sec- 
ondary laws  of  association  defined  and  named, 
286;  discussed,  286-8;  apparent  exceptions  to, 
283 ;  Hobbes'  often-quoted  illustration,  do. ; 
two  theories  in  explanation,  289;  capable  of 
interruption  and  control,  290,  1  ;  not  the  only 
power  of  the  soul,  291,  2  ;  indirectly  controlled, 
292 ;  relation  to  habits,  question  concerning, 
293  ;  higher  and  lower  laws  of,  296  ;  prevalence 
of  higher,  do. ;  of  lower,  297  ;  casual  associa- 
tions, 298  ;  in  changes  of  fashions,  do. ;  th« 
moral  influence  of,  do. ;  influence  on  language, 
299  ;  on  philosophy,  do. 

Associational  psychology,  56-59;  prominent  wri- 
ters, 56 ;  explanation  of  necessary  truths,  57  ; 
fundamental  error,  do.;  usually  materialistic, 
58  ;  Herbart's  relation  to,  do. 

Associational  school,  their  views  of  intuitions,  520, 

Astronomy,  discoveries  in,  478,  7. 

Atomists'  explanation  of  life,  29. 

Attention  defined,  69 ;  beginnings  of,  180, 181 ;  Stew- 
art's theory,  207 ;  can  be  given  to  two  object* 
at  once,  208  ;  objections,  208  ;  is  the  utmost  at- 
tention possible  to  more  than  one  ?  209. 

Attribute,  relations  most  frequently  used,  195  ;  sen- 
sations so  used,  do. ;  etymology  and  meaning  of, 
621 ;  in  the  abstract,  623 ;  material,  indicate  but 
do  not  constitute  matter,  630. 

Auxiliary  lines  in  geometry,  460, 1. 

Axioms,  mathematical,  458;  Analytical  and  synthek. 
ical,  459;  geometrical  question  concerning,  459. 

Bacon,  services  for  induction,  494 ;  on  final  cause, 
603  ;  just  interpretation  of  his  v  ews,  do. 

3ailey,  S.,  review  of  Berkeley's  tnoory  of  vision 
165. 


664 


INDEX. 


Bain,  A.,  an  associationalist,  56. 

Being,  correlate  of  knowledge,  64;  Variety  of,  do.; 
some  more  lasting  and  important,  do. ;  con- 
trasted with  phenomenon,  do. ;  one  kind  mistak- 
en for  another,  do. ;  not  known  apart  from  rela- 
tions, 66  ;  category  of,  526 ;  fundamental  in  what 
sense,  527  ;  different  sorts  of,  do. ;  known  in  dif- 
ferent ways,  do. ;  the  most  abstract,  do. ;  how 
explained,  do. ;  concrete  known  first,  528 ; 
knowledge  of,  expressed  in  propositions,  528 ;  not 
a  relation,  do. ;  cannot  be  defined,  do. ;  treated 
as  an  attribute,  529 ;  indeterminate,  do. ;  both 
spiritual  and  material,  directly  known,  636. 

Bern's  mnemonics,  323. 

Beneke,  consciousness  of  ego,  94 ;  views  of  repeated 
sense-perceptious,  202. 

Berkeley's  view  of  sensation,  129  ;  theory  of  vision 
reviewed,  165,  6 ;  theory  of  sense-perception, 
232,  3 ;  doctrine  of  the  concept,  408. 

Biran,  de,  M.,  consciousness  of  ego ;  theory  of  sense- 
perception,  242 ;  views  of  intuitions,  521 ;  theory 
of  causation,  583-586  ,  concerns  the  origin  and 
universality  of  the  relation,  583,  4;  how  far 
correct,  584,  5. 

Black's,  Dr.,  discovery  of  carbonic  acid  gas,  475. 

Blind,  the,  when  restored  to  sight,  163-165  ;  how  they 
judge  of  form,  size,  etc.,  165  ;  the  reports  of, 
critically  noticed,  191,  2. 

Bodily  organism,  123,  4. 

Boethius,  on  universals,  405. 

Bonnet,  theory  of  vibration,  272. 

Bowen,  Prof.  Francis,  on  causation,  586. 

Brain,  the  organ  of  the  soul,  56. 

Brown,  Dr.  T.,  denies  consciousness  of  ego,  94;  ad- 
mits it,  96  ;  theory  of  tactual  and  other  sensa- 
tions, 150  ;  theory  noticed,  184 ;  theory  of  sense- 
perception,  235;  of  the  nature  of  the  concept, 
409  ;  of  intuitions,  520,  1 ;  theory  of  causation, 
575. 

Buxton,  Sir  T.  F.,  advice  on  memory,  321. 

Carneades,  illustration  of  association,  276. 

Categories.    (See  Intuition.)  ' 

Causation,  517;  and  causality,  chapter  on,  569-592  ; 
as  a  principle  and  law  distinguished,  570 ;  the 
principle  of,  intuitively  evident,  572 ;  reasons 
for,  572,  3 ;  resolved  into  a  time-relation,  574- 
578 ;  by  Hume,  574 ;  by  Brown,  575 ;  by  J.  S. 
Mill,  576 ;  not  a  relation  of  time,  578 ;  Hamil- 
ton's tabular  view  of  theories  of,  579  ;  not  ex- 
plained by  induction,  579 ;  nor  by  association, 
580  ;  not  gained  by  experience,  inner  or  outer, 
581 ;  Locke's  views,  do.;  relations  of,  to  those  of 
Mill  and  Hume,  582 ;  views  of  R.  Collard  and  M 
de  Biran,  *82  ;  theory  of  de  Biran,  583,  4  ;  two 
positions  of,  583,  4  how  far  correct,  584-586  ; 
denied  to  matter,  580 ;  Prof.  Bo  wen's  view,  do. ; 
reasons  against,  587  ;  denied  to  created  spirits, 
588  ;  MaLebranche,  do. ;  theories  d  priori,  588- 
692;  explained  by  law  of  contradiction,  588; 
Wolf,  Kant,  Hegel,  etc.,  588,  9  ;  Hamilton's  ex- 
planation by  the  law  of  the  conditioned,  589, 
tqq. ;  Mangel's  version  of,  590  ;  both  related  to 
Kant,  rfo  ;  objections  to,  591 ;  divided  into  for- 


mal, material,  efficient,  and  final,  592  ;  oonclu« 
sion,  true  doctrine  of,  592. 

Cause  distinguished  from  condition,  570. 

Cerebralists.    (See  Cerebral  Psychology.) 

Cerebral  Psychology,  545 ;  repeated,  do. ;  suppose* 
consciousness,  55. 

Clarke,  S.,  definition  of  space  and  time,  567. 

Classification,  how  arises,  397  ;  by  children  and  sav« 
ages,  398 ;  in  science,  398,  9  ;  relations  to  know- 
ledge, 400;  significance  of,  401;  assumes  fina* 
cause,  608. 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  view  of  philosophical  consciousness, 
111,  2 ;  on  the  arts  of  memory,  323. 

Complex  notions,  395. 

Comte,  A.,  views  of  Psychology,  54 ;  contempt  fol 
final  cause,  604. 

Concept,  formation  of,  chapter  on,  388-403 ;  of  mate- 
rial objects,  388  ;  when  it  begins,  do. ;  similarity 
discerned,  do. ;  involves  analysis,  389 ;  attributes 
distinguished,  do. ;  called  abstraction,  do. ;  to  pre- 
scind, do.  ;  comparison,  do. ;  generalization,  do. ; 
predication.390 ;  assumes  substance  and  attribute, 
390 ;  appellations  concept,  391 ;  and  notion,  do. ; 
not  a  percept,  do. ;  nor  an  imagf,  392  ;  relative, 
do. ;  a  mental  product,  do. ;  universal,  do. ;  predi- 
cable,  do. ;  why  symbolic,  393 ;  more  than  a  name, 
do. ;  respects  attributes  only,  do. ;  concrete  and 
abstract,  394  ;  simple  and  complex,  395  ;  content 
and  extent,  396 ;  mutual  relations  of  the  two, 
397  ;  how  far  they  add  to  knowledge,  400  ;  vary- 
ing import  of,  402  ;  theories  of  nature  of,  chapter 
on,  403-418 ;  Socrates  and  Plato  on,  403 ;  Aris- 
totle, 404;  Porphyry,  Boethius,  the  Realists, 
Nominalists,  and  Conceptualists,  Eric  of  Au- 
xerre,  Roscellinus,  405  ;  William  of  Champeaux, 
Abelard,  Albertus  Magnus,  Thomas  Aquinas, 
Duns  Scotus,  William  of  Occam,  406  ;  Thomas 
Hobbes,  407  ;  John  Locke,  G.  W.  Leibnitz,  Qeo. 
Berkeley  and  D.  Hume,  408 ;  T.  Reid  and  D. 
Stewart,  Dr.  T.  Brown,  Sir  W.  Hamilton,  408 ;  J. 
S.  Mill,  410  ;  H.  Spencer,  I.  Kant,  J.  a.  Fichta, 
411 ;  Hegt'l,  Herbart,  412  ;  nature  of,  chapter 
on,  413-420;  distinguished  from  the  act,  413; 
implies  substance  and  attribute,  do. ;  is  relative, 

414  ;  founded  on  similarity,  do. ;  leads  to  names, 

415  ;  classifies,  do. ;  gives  import  to  names,  416  ; 
the  import  explained  by  individuals,  do. ;  refer- 
able to  an  image,  417  ;  does  not  allow  inconsis- 
tent elements,  418;  very  general  concepts  most 
need  to  be  imaged,  419  ;  value  of  names  for,  419 
-422;  formed  by  judgment,  430;  how  related  to 
it,  432 ;  in  mathematics,  456  ;  of  spaee  and  time 
objects,  550 ;  mathematical,  551  ;  of  geometry, 
551  ;    of  number,  552  ;    of  space  and  time,  558  ; 
formed  by  final  cause,  607. 

Conceptualists,  the,  405  ;  strife  adjusted,  417. 

Concrete  thinking,  384  ;  concepts,  394. 

Condillac  and  school,  on  consciousness  of  ego,  94  ; 
on  the  origin  of  knowledge,  520. 

Condillac,  theory  of  sense-perception,  240. 

Conditioned.    (See  Infinite.) 

Consciousness,  and  natural  consciousness,  chapter 
on,  83-1 02 ;  defined,  83 ;  extends  to  acts  and 
states,  do.;  applied  to  th<?  power  and  acts,  83,  4; 


INDEX. 


665 


Applied  to  any  act  of  knowledge,  84  ;  a  collective 
term  for  all  the  intellectual  states,  84;  meta- 
phorical uses  of,  84 ;  proper  meaning,  85  ;  called 
inner  sense,  do. ;  called  apperception,  do. ;  Ger- 
man equivalent,  for,  86  ;  called  reflection,  86 ; 
exercised  in  two  forms,  87  ;  the  two  defined,  87, 
8  ;  natural  consciousness  as  an  act,  88  ;  an  act 
of  knowledge,  do.;  results  in  a  product,  89 ;  is 
tui  generis,  do. ;  peculiarity  in  language,  90  ;  con- 
sciousness, the  object,  90, 1 ;  object  complex,  91  ; 
elements  threefold,  91 ;  relations  to  one  an- 
other, 91,  2  ;  Hcrbart's  doctrine  of,  92 ;  elements 
not  regarded  with  equal  attention,  93  ;  the  ac- 
tivity an  object,  93 ;  also  the  ego,  93 ;  95,  6 ; 
different  views,  93,  4,  5  ;  proof  that  we  are  con- 
scious of  the  ego,  96,  6  ;  unconscious  admissions, 
96  ;  are  we  conscious  of  objects  ?  96,  7 ;  summary 
of  doctrine  of  consciousness,  97,  8  ;  object  of  c. 
a  condition  of  being,  98;  Descartes'  doctrine,  98; 
consciousness  does  not  create  the  state  it  knows, 
99  ;  c.  involves  all  the  categories,  99 ;  develop- 
ment and  growth  of  c.,  100  ;  exercised  more  or 
less  completely  in  different  persons,  102  ;  capacity 
for,  not  developed,  102  ;  not  a  product  of  circum- 
stances, 102  ;  latent  modifications  of,  103  ;  capa- 
ble of  degrees,  103  ;  Leibnitz's  doctrine  of,  103, 4  ; 
philosophical  or  reflective,  104  ;  characterized  by 
attention,  104,  5 ;  the  morbid  consciousness  in 
children,  hypochondriacs,  etc.,  lOi ;  egoistic  con- 
sciousness, 106 ;  ethical  type,  do. ;  in  the  re- 
flective, attention  is  persistent,  106  ;  comprehen- 
sive, 107,  8  ;  comparative  and  classifying,  108  ; 
interpretive,  d/>. ;  searches  for  conditions  and 
laws,  109  ;  relations  to  natural  consciousness, 
109  ;  imparts  new  knowledge,  110 ;  in  what  sense, 
do.;  Coleridge's  view  of  the  two,  111 ;  relations 
of  language  to  each,  112  ;  does  not  create  phe- 
nomena, do. ;  dangers  from  exact  terminology, 
112;  psychology,  tried  by  the  language  of 
common  life,  113,  4  ;  by  the  actions,  114 ;  condi- 
tions of  the  successful  interpretation  of  both,  114, 
5  ;  why  men  are  so  positive  in  their  philosophical 
opinions,  115  ;  explains  slow  progress  of  psycho- 
logy, 115,  6;  explains  difficulties  in  studying 

Uonservativc  faculty.    (See  Memory.) 
psychology,  117,  8. 

Content,  of  notion,  396  ;   of  mathematical  concepts, 
457. 

Contradiction,  law  of,  535. 

Copernicus,  discovery,  477. 

Copula,  force  of,  433-5. 

Correlation  of  forces,  556. 

Cousin,  consciousness  of  ego,  94  ;  on  origin  of  know- 
ledge, 504  ;  views  of  intuition,  521. 

Critical  or  speculative  stage  of  knowledge,  72-74. 

Cuvier's  researches,  assumed  final  cause,  596. 

Dalton's  discovery  of  chemical  equivalents,  475. 

Dana,  on  species,  426. 

Darwi:',  on  species,  426;    seems  to  exclude  final 

".ause,  604 ;  but  really  assumes  it,  634. 
Davy's  discovery,  475. 
Deaf  mutes,  reason  why  they  cannot  speak,  169  •, 

form  concepts  without  language. 


Deduction,  chapter  on,  439-453 ;  how  related  to  in« 
duction,  441,  2  ;  how  to  be  treated,  443  ;  our  in- 
quiry, 443 ;  its  two  forma,  443 ;  is  not  explained 
by  the  dictum  de  omni  et  nullo,  448 ;  but  rests  on 
the  relation  of  reason  to  consequent,  449 ;  this 
rests  on  causation,  450 ;  varieties  of,  chapter  on, 
454-469 ;  various  classes  of,  454,  5 ;  distinguished 
from  the  process  of  preparation,  465,  6  ;  does  ft 
aid  to  our  knowledge  ?  457,  8. 

Definition,  396  ;  in  mathematics,  457. 

Democritus,  theory  of  sense-perception,  223. 

Descartes,  cogito,  ergo  sum,  98  ;  theory  of  sense-per- 
ception, 226 ;  on  the  mind's  constant  activity, 
334  ;  on  innate  ideas,  519  ;  on  final  cause,  603  ; 
on  primary  and  secondary  qualities,  637. 

Descartes,  view  of  life,  30. 

Design,  or  final  cause,  chapter  on,  592-619 ;  (see  Final 
Cause ;)  how  related  to  adaptation,  593  ;  alone 
explains  permanent  substance,  635 ;  required  to 
explain  development,  636. 

Development,  of  the  intellect  explained,  70 ;  ordei 
and  stages  of,  73,  4  ;  of  consciousness,  stages  of, 
100,  1 ;  of  sense-perception,  178-192  ;  of  vision, 
186. 

Dinnoetic  faculty,  81. 

Dictum  de  omni  et  nullo,  446 ;  does  not  entirely  ex- 
plain the  syllogism,  448. 

Diogenes  of  Apollonia,  theory  of  sense-perception, 
222. 

Discovery  and  Invention,  the  conditions  of,  487-494; 
attention,  487,  8  ;  familiarity,  488  ;  constructive 
imagination,  489  ;  wise  judgment,  41J1 ;  reference 
to  Divine  mind,  492  ;  ready  deduction,  493 ;  ex- 
periment, 493  ;  Lord  Bacon's  services  in  respect 
to,  493. 

Diversity  or  otherness,  relation  of,  530  ;  proposition 
expressing  it,  do. ;  relation  to  negation,  do. 

Division  of  the  concept,  397. 

Dreams,  and  dreaming,  299-333;  dreams,  the  soul  ac- 
tive constantly,  333, 4 ;  opinions  of  Descartes,  etc,, 
334 ;  the  soul  acts  with  feeble  energy,  do. ;  with 
varying  energy,  do.;  representative  power  ac- 
tive, do. ;  irregular,  335 ;  the  judgment  feeble, 
do. ;  the  reasoning  power,  336 ;  consciousness 
feeble,  337  ;  estimates  of  time  in,  do.;  moral  re- 
sponsibility in,  338 ;  the  emotions  in,  do. ;  the 
activity  of  the  will  in,  do.;  Dugald  Stewart 
on,  339. 

Dugald  Stewart.    (See  Stewart.) 

Duns  Scotus,  on  universals,  406. 

Duration,  how  related  to  the  soul's  acts,  539;  ap- 
plied to  two  objects,  540 ;  relations  of,  do. ;  void, 
641 ;  relations  to  extension,  541 ;  transferred 
to  material  acts,  542 ;  measures  of,  whence  de- 
rived, do.;  language  of,  543;  how  related  to 
time,  562 ;  aflBrmed  of  events,  but  not  of  time, 
564. 

Ego,  the,  known  in  consciousness,  93-96 ;  denied  by 
many,  94,  5  ;  not  psychical  substance,  96 ;  distil* 
guished  from  the  self,  101  ;  110, 111- 

Elal>orative  faculty,  81. 

"Bmpedocles,  theory  of  sense-perception,  822. 

Enthymeme,  the.  443 


666 


INDEX. 


Erie  of  Auxerre,  doctrine  of  concept,  405. 

Error,  possible  of  relations  only,  64,  5;  of  the  senses 
belong  to  the  acquired  sense-perceptions,  171 ; 
two  classes  of,  171,  2. 

Essence,  real,  and  nominal,  434. 

Essence,  the  real,  misconceived  ;  explained,  632. 

Ethics,  its  relation  to  psychology,  13  ;  assumes  final 
cause,  615. 

Event,  defined,  57C  ;  different  classes  of,  570, 1. 

Excluded  middle,  law  of,  516. 

Extended  objects  limited,  561. 

Extension  known  in  perception,  132  ;  by  touch  in  the 
concrete,  147  ;  in  vision  superficial  only,  155 ;  ex- 
tra organic,  how  acquired,  182  ;  known  in  sense- 
perception,  537  ;  blended  with  matter,  do. ;  the 
several  relations  of,  538  ;  relations  to  duration, 
541  ;  related  to  space,  562 ;  limits  objects,  563 ; 
affirmed  of  objects  not  of  space,  564. 

Extent,  of  notion  defined,  396 ;  of  mathematical  con- 
cepts, 458. 

Externality,  known  in  perception,  131 ;  in  touch, 
149 ;  two  meanings  of,  150  ;  of  the  body  to  the 
soul,  160;  of  one  body  to  another,  151;  extra 
organic,  how  acquired,  182, 3. 

Eye,  the  structure  of,  152,  3;  single  objects  seen 
with  two  eyes,  166  ;  dignity  of,  157,  8. 

Faculties  of  the  intellect,  how  conceived,  75,  6; 
leading  faculties  nafmed,  77  ;  severally  defined, 
77-80. 

Faculties  of  the  soul,  40-51 ;  the  soul,  not  parts  or 
organs,  41 ;  often  so  misconceived,  do, ;  do  not 
act  apart,  do. ;  grounds  of  belief  in,  42-44  ;  states 
like  and  unlike ;  42  ;  one  dependent  on  another, 
do.;  distinguishable  by  a  prominent  element, 
d». ;  differently  related  to  the  ego,  act,  and  ob- 
ject, 44 ;  more  obvious  than  powers  of  matter, 
44,  5  ;  why  called  human,  45  ;  not  independent, 
46;  relations  of,  important  in  education,  46; 
history  of  doctrine  of,  49 ;  synonyms  for,  50. 

Fainting.     See  Phantasy. 

Fichte,  J.  G.,  on  the  nature  of  the  concept,  411 ;  on 
the  categories,  525-657. 

Final  cause,  chapter  on,  592-619;  terms  explained, 
division  of  causes,  592.  3  ;  the  relation  discerned 
d  priori,  594 ;  compared  with  efficient  causation, 
do. ;  reasons  for  the  position,  594-599 ;  the  mind 
seeks  this  relation,  595  ;  acknowledges  it  to  be 
higher,  do. ;  explains  organic  phenomena,  597  ; 
conspicuous  in  the  highest  order  of  beings,  599  ; 
does  not  displace  efficient  causes,  do. ;  objections 
to  the  position,  599-607 ;  men  mistake,  599  ;  they 
cannot  test  their  inductions,  600  ;  the  relation 
subjective  only,  601 ;  involves  two  principles, 
602 ;  hinders  discovery,  603  ;  Bacon  and  Des- 
cartes on,  do. ;  adaptations  are  necessary  con- 
ditions only,  do. ;  limited,  605,  6  ;  cannot  be  as- 
cribed to  an  unlimited  Being,  606  ;  application 
of  the  principle,  607-619  ;  in  metaphysics,  607  ; 
in  induction,  do. ;  in  the  formation  of  concepts, 
do. ;  in  classification,  608 ;  in  the  notion  of  an 
individual,  do. ;  as  a  rule  of  truth,  609  ;  in 
mathematics,  do. ;  in  geology  and  paleontology, 
610;  in  phi!,  geography,  611 ;  in  comp.  anatomy, 


do. ;  in  physiology,  612  ;  in  anthropology,  684 
in  psychology,  614;  in  ethics,  615  ;  in  theology ; 
616  ;  two  classes  of  theories  of  God,  do;  reasoni 
for  accepting  a  personal  God,  617-619. 

Finite  and  the  Infinite,  (see  Infinite) ;  and  condition- 
ed, the,  chapter  on,  645-G62  ;  result  of  processes 
of  knowledge,  645  ;  the  finite  universe  how  con- 
ceived, 646 ;  is  limited  and  conditioned,  647. 

First  principles.    (See  Intuition.) 

First  truths.    (See  Intuition.) 

Forgetfulness.    (See  Memory.) 

Forgotten  knowledge  restored.    (See  Memory.) 

Formal  cause,  592,  3. 

Formal  categories,  514;  chapter  on,  526-536. 

Formal  relations  or  categories,  chapter  on,  526-638* 

Forms,  of  thought  and  being,  383  ;  of  knowledge, 
Kant  and  Hamilton  error,  concerning,  629. 

Franklin's  discovery  of  electricity,  474,  6. 

Functions  of  the  soul  defined,  51. 

Galileo,  discovery  by,  477. 

Gassendi,  theory  of  sense-percept  on,  226;  illustra- 
tion of  memory,  310. 

Generalization,  389. 

Geography,  Phil.,  assumes  final  cause,  601. 

Geology,  assumes  final  cause,  610. 

Geometrical  reasoning,  (see  Mathematical  quanti 
ties);  const  ructions  of,  359  ;  figures,  construction 
of,  460 ;  quantities  measurable,  461 ;  reasoning, 
example  of,  462  ,  concepts,  how  formed,  551 ;  rests 
on  what  assumptions,  552 ;  postulates  of,  552. 

George,  L.,  resolves  sensations  into  nerve  vibrations, 
126. 

Geulincx,  theory  of  sense-perception,  228. 

God,  man  the  image  of,  99  ;  belief  in,  assumed  in  all 
scientific  knowledge,  662. 

Goodyear,  discovery,  490. 

Habit,  relation  to  association,  293  ;  theory  of,  294 ; 
often  supposes  a  difficulty ~~~~do. ;  bodily,  do.; 
mental,  394,  5 ;  emotional,  295. 

Hallucinations,  260;  case  of  Nicolai,  349;  not 
purely  physical,  350 ;  how  explained,  do. 

Hamilton,  Sir  "Wm.,  division  of  faculties,  49  ;  doc- 
trine of  knowledge,  65  ;  consciousness  of  Ego, 
94 ;  consciousness  of  objects  of  knowledge,  97  ; 
theory  of  extra-organic  perception,  184;  theory 
of  sense-perception.  236  ;  doctrine  of  latent  modi- 
fications, 289  ;  on  the  imagination,  357  ;  on  the 
nature  of  the  concept,  410  ;  Hamilton's  dictum 
of  the  syllogism,  446  ;  appellations  for  intuitions, 
509;  on  origin  of  knowledge,  504;  on  intuitions 
and  categories,  523 ;  positive  and  negative  ne- 
cessity, 523  ;  table  of  theories  of  causation,  579 ; 
theory  ot  causation  by  law  of  the  conditioned, 
589,  sqq.  ;  relation  to  Kant.  590 ;  objections  to, 
591 ;  follows  Kant  in  respect  to  forms  of  knowl- 
edge, 629 ;  of  primary,  secondary,  and  secundo- 
primary  qualities,  638,  9 ;  on  the  real  and 
phenomenal,  642  ;  negative  thinking,  652  ;  on 
the -Infinite,  654,  5;  antinomies,  657,  8. 

Hartley,  theory  of  vibrations,  272. 

Harvey's  discovery  prompted  by  final  c  mse,  596. 

Hauser,  Casper,  how  the  world  looked  to,  1JO. 


INDEX. 


667 


Hearing,  ser.se-perceptions  of,  140-143  ;  organ,  140; 
varieties,  how  far  distinguishable,  141 ;  condi- 
tion of  language,  142 ;  expresses  feeling,  do.  ; 
dignity,  1 43  ;  acquired  perceptions  of,  1 60. 

Hegel,  method  of  psychology,  59,  60 ;  on  the  nature 
of  the  concept,  412 ;  on  the  categories,  525  ;  be- 
ing equals  nothing,  529;  error,  532;  misuse 
of  law  of  identity,  536 ;  on  causation,  589  ;  on 
the  absolute,  650. 

Heraclittis,  theory  of  sense-perception,  222. 

Herbart,  doctrine  of  faculties,  49,  50 ;  relation  to 
associations  1  psychology,  58 ;  doctrine  of  con- 
sciousness, 92,  3 ;  consciousness  of  ego,  94,  5 ; 
views  of  repetition  in  perception,  202 ;  theory  of 
sense-perception,  245 ;  doctrine  of  association, 
276  ;  on  the  nature  of  the  concept,  412 ;  on  the 
categories,  526. 

Herbert  Spencer,  (see  Spencer,)  doctrine  of  neces- 
sary truths,  57. 

Hilaire,  St.  (Jr.,  on  final  cause,  604. 

Hobbes,  crude  views  of  association ,  275  ;  often-quot- 
ed illustration,  288  ;  doctrine  of  the  infinite,  653. 

Hume  denies  consciousness  of  ego,  94 ;  theory  of 
sense-perception,  232 ;  passage  on  association, 
276  ;  enumeration  of  laws  of,  do.  ;  doctrine  of 
the  concept,  408 ;  on  intuitions,  520  ;  theory  of 
causation,  57J  ;  definition  of  substance,  622. 

Ideals,  nature  of,  3G1 ;  varieties  of,  362,  3 ;  related  to 
individual  experience,  363,  4;  ethical,  372. 

Ideation,  of  sense-objects,  199. 

Identity,  law  of,  etc.,  do  not  explain  deduction,  451 ; 
category  of,  533 ;  affirmable  of  spirit  and  mat- 
ter, 534  ;  logical  law  of,  do.  ;  concerns  concepts, 
535  :  guards  against  what,  do.  ;  founded  on  real 
identity,  misapplication  of  by  Hegel  and  others, 
536 ;  of  material  substance,  631 ;  several  kinds 
of,  do. 

Image,  technical  name  for  objects  of  representation, 
253 ;  relation  to  concept,  418,  9 ;  of  space  and 
time  objects,  545  ;  of  causal  relation,  585. 

Imagination,  a  modification  of  representation,  256 ; 
poetic,  256;  philosophical,  257  ;  the,  chapter  on, 
351-376  ;  appellations  for,  351 ;  materials  and 
conditions  for,  do. ;  space  and  time,  352 ;  thought- 
relations,  do.  ;  material  qualities,  do.;  spiritual, 
do.,  353  ;  how  far  can  it  modify  these  materials  ? 
353-356  ;  by  what  process  ?  356 ;  three  particulars, 
357  ;  its  combining  office,  357,  8 ;  idealization  of 
space  and  time  objects,  the  mathematical  imag- 
ination, 358;  psychical  idealization,  360-364; 
capable  of  growth  and  culture,  364  ;  constantly 
exercised,  364-366;  special  application  of, 
366-376;  the  poetic,  366-368;  the  philosophic, 
368-371 ;  relation  to  invention,  369 ;  nearly  al- 
lied to  the  poetic,  370  ;  the  ethical,  371-373  ;  the 
"jligious,  37S-376 ;  of  the  Infinite,  375. 

fmnging  of  concepts,  418  ;  of  space  and  time  objects, 

545  ;  of  the  infinite,  etc.,  656. 
Individual  notion  of,  rests  on  final  cause,  608. 
Individuation ,  the  principle  of,  631. 
Induction,  includes  psychology,  52 ;  psychclogy  its 

foundation,  do.    how  related  to  deduction,  441 ; 


the  so-called  purely  Icgical,  47  ;  examples  olj 
2  ;  chapter  on,  469-494  ;  loose  y  denned,  469 
proper  induction,  471 ;  very  frequent,  472  ;  hom 
differs  from  simple  judgment,  472  ;  importance 
of  a  correct  theory  of,  473  ;  in  coEcmon  life,  474, 
in  science,  do.;  in  physics  most  striking,  178; 
why  in  science  more  difficult,  do  ;  requires  at- 
tenticn,  479;  discrimination,  do.;  more  genera, 
definition,  do. ;  involves  mathematics,  480 ;  de- 
pends on  other,  do. ;  the  problem  of,  difficult, 
.  481 ;  involves  certain  assumptions,  482 ;  eub- 
tance  and  attribute,  do. ;  causation,  483  ;  time 
and  space  relations,  do.;  indicia,  484;  adapta- 
tion, 485 ;  common  standard  of  reason,  -.86 ; 
three  rules  of  induction,  do. ;  real  character  of, 
do.  ;  conditions  of  successful  hypothesis,  487  J 
assumes  final  cause,  607. 

Inductive  science.    (See  Induction.) 

Infants  capable  of  induction,  176;  condition  of  the 
poul  in,  177-180 ;  learns  to  touch,  186. 

Infinite,  unconditioned  and  absolute,  chapter  on, 
645-602 ;  relations  to  the  finite,  647 ;  literal  im- 
port of  infinite,  648  ;  transferred  from  quantity  to 
quality,  do. ;  variety  of  senses  of,  do. ;  the  terms 
used  in  the  concrete  and  abstract,  650,  1  ;  not 
negative  conceptions,  651 ;  not  produced  by  neg- 
ative thinking,  652  ;  Hamilton  and  Hansel,  do. ; 
not  unrelated,  653  ;  Spinoza,  do.  ;  Hobbes'  doc- 
trine of,  do. :  not  the  sum  total  of  being,  do.  ; 
totality  not  infinite,  654;  not  a  matter  of  quan- 
tity, do. ;  not  one  and  simple,  655  ;  is  knowable, 
that  and  what  it  is,  655  ;  Herbert  Spencer's  doc- 
trine of,  656;  cannot  be  imagined,  do.;  Kant'a 
antinomies  explained,  657,  8  ;  not  known  by 
reasoning  or  induction,  658  ;  not  defined  for 
classification,  do.;  holds  relations  to  the  finite, 
659  ;  known  by  knowledge,  and  not  by  faith  or 
feeling,  660 ;  not  known  exhaustively,  do. ;  self- 
existence  common  to  the  finite  and  infinite,  661 ; 
is  a  thinking  person,  661 ;  relations  to  space 
and  time,  662. 

Innate  Ideas,  doctrine  of,  519. 

Inner  sense.    (See  Consciousness.) 

Insanity,  350,  1. 

Intellect,  growth  and  development  of,  73,  4 ;  rule* 
for  culture  of,  74,  5 ;  faculties  of,  how  conceived, 
75  ;  learns  to  control  the  body,  168-70  ;  its  state 
before  sense-perception,  180. 

Intuitions,  82. 

Intuition  and  Intuitive  knowledge,  Part  IV.,  497- 
662  ;  defined  and  enumerated,  chapter  on,  497- 
517  ;  involved  in  induction  and  other  knowl- 
edge, 497  ;  three  characteristics,  498  ;  not  gained 
by  ordinary  processes,  499  ;  referred  by  some  to 
a  special  faculty,  do. ;  various  appellations  for, 
500;  difference  of  opinion  in  respect  to,  do.} 
figuratively  described,  do. ;  not  first  in  time,  501  f 
Locke's  polemic  against,  do. ;  first  in  logical  im- 
portance, 502  ;  in  what  sense  principles,  do. ', 
different  senses  of  (he  word.  502-504 ;  how  re- 
lated to  origin  of  knowledge,  504 ;  ways  in 
which  they  are  apprehended,  505,  6 ;  concrete.- 
by  a  proposition,  singular  propositions,  occasior 
concepts,  505 ;  generalized  by  reflection,  506;  re« 


663 


INDEX. 


lation  to  other  generals,  do. ;  stages  of  the  mind's 
progress  in,  506-510;  observation  of  objects, 
506  ;  as  related,  507  ;  abstraction  of  relation,  do. ; 
discernment  of  relations  as  fundamental,  507,  8; 
of  correlates.,  508 ;  explanation  of  the  limited 
assent  to  them,  do. ;  tested  by  the  language  and 
actions  cf  men,  509,  10  ;  three  criteria,  510,  11 ; 
not  first  premises,  512 ;  logically  independent, 
a  13 ;  divided  into  three  classes,  514 ;  theories  of, 
chapter  on,  517-526;  of  direct  mental  vision, 
518  •,  light  of  nature,  do. ;  innate  ideas,  519 ; 
school  of  Locke,  do. ;  Condillac,  520  ',  Hume,  do. ; 
of  the  associational  school,  520 ;  Dr.  Reid  and 
the  Scottish  school,  do. ;  the  French  school,  521 ; 
Kant  and  his  school,  do.;  criticism  of,  522; 
Hamilton,  523  ;  of  faith,  do. ;  practical  reason, 
524;  Scale iermacher,  do.;  ethical  school,  do. ; 
J.  G.  Fichte,  525  ;  Schelling  and  Hegel,  do. ; 
Herbart,  526  ;  Trendelenburg,  80. 
Intuitive  knowledge,  relation  to  symbolic,  426-430. 

Jefisen,  theory  of  the  brain  in  memory,  272. 

Jouffroy,  doctrine  of  intuitions,  52 1 . 

Judgment,  chapter  on,  430-139;  forms  the  concept, 
430  ;  misconceived,  do.  •  proof,  131 ;  how  related  to 
the  concept,  432  •,  psychological  and  logical,  432  ; 
how  the  two  are  exp rested  in  language,  do. ;  the 
logical  judgment,  433  ;  force  of  the  copula,  433, 
5  ;  judgment  of  content,  434 ;  natural  and  scien- 
tific, do. ;  real  and  nominal  essence,  do.  •  judg- 
ment of  extent,  436  ;  importance  in  science,  do. ; 
propositions  of  extent  a,nd  content  how  related, 
437  ;  relation  to  reasoning,  439  ;  immediate  and 
mediate,  440. 

Kant,  method  in  Psychology,  59  ;  on  consciousness 
of  ego,  94  ;  theory  of  sense-perception,  245  ;  on 
the  nature  of  the  concept,  411  ;  on  immediate 
syllogisms,  463 ;  on  origin  of  knowledge,  504  ; 
views  of  categories  and  intuitions,  521  ;  criticism 
of,  522;  of  practical  reason,  524;  doctrine  of 
space  and  time,  568  ;  on  causation,  589  ;  on  sub- 
stance and  attribute,  622;  error  concerning  forms 
of  knowledge,  629  ;  the  thing  in  itself,  632  ;  on 
the  real  and  phenomenal,  642  ;  antinomies,  657. 

Kepler,  discovery  by,  477. 

Knowledge  defined  and  discussed,  51-80;  defined,  61 ; 
how  far  definable,  do.;  is  action,  do.;  exercised 
under  conditions,  62 ;  these  varioas,  62  ;  two 
classes  of  objects,  62  ;  preparation  of  objects,  63; 
various  in  kind,  do. ;  involves  certainty,  64  ; 
being  its  correlate,  do. ;  involves  apprehension 
of  relations,  65 ;  objection,  do. ;  admitted  by 
Hamilton  and  others,  do. ;  involves  analysis 
and  synthesis,  67  ;  objects  and  relations  vari- 
ous, 67  ;  when  the  process  is  complete,  68;  these 
products  objects  of  subsequent  knowledge,  do. ; 
representative  and  represented  knowledge,  do. ; 
acts  of  kn.  diverse  in  energy,  69 ;  attention, 
do. ;  some  objects  known  more  easily  than  others, 
do. ;  this  explains  intellectual  growth,  70 ;  em- 
pirical and  philosophical  kn.,  71  ;  critical  fitagfc 
of  kn.,  72  ;  direct  and  reflex,  of  matter  and 
spirit,  635;  direct  involves  apprehension  of  being 


as  well  as  relations,  do. ;  reflex,  lifflcult  to  an- 
alyze, do. 

Language,  relation  to  psychological  truth,  112 ;  of 
common  life,  a  test  of  truth,  113,  4 ;  influenced 
by  association,  299  ;  relation  to  thought,  887,  6, 
the  study  of,  388. 

Laromiguiere,  theory  of  sense-perception,  241. 

Law,  its  relations  to  psychology,  13. 

Law  and  power,  570. 

Leibnitz,  doctrine  of  latent  consciousness,  103 , 
theory  of  sense-perception,  243  ;  latent  modifi- 
cations in  association,  289;  opinion  of  the 
mind's  constant  activity,  334 ;  on  symbolic 
knowledge,  427 ;  on  the  sufficient  reason,  451 : 
criticism  on  Locke's  doctrine  of  origin  of  know- 
ledge, 504 ;  on  intuitions,  519  ;  definition  of 
space  and  time,  567  ;  sufficient  reason  as  applied 
by  Wolf,  588. 

Life,  how  explained  by  the  atomists,  29 ;  by  Aris- 
totle, do. ;  by  Plato,  do. ;  iu  the  New  Testament, 
30  ;  by  the  Greek  Fathers,  30  ;  by  Descartes,  30 ; 
and  the  moderns  generally,  30 ;  by  later  Scien- 
tists, 30;  the  principle  of,  named  by  Blumenbach 
and  others,  30 ;  that  there  is  a  principle  of,  ar- 
guments in  favor,  30-33 ;  springs  from  life,  30, 
31 ;  is  sustained  by  growth,  31 ;  after  a  plan,  32  ; 
preserves  its  form,  32 ;  admits  repair,  32  J 
counter-arguments,  33-36 ;  variously  defined  by 
Carpenter  and  others,  33. 

Light  of  nature,  518. 

Limit  and  limitation  of  objects  and  events,  563. 

Limited,  the  distinguished  from  the  conditioned, 
647. 

Locke,  doctrine  of  reflection,  86,  7  ;  of  conscious- 
ness, 94;  theory  of  sense-perception,  230;  doc- 
trine of  knowledge,  262  ;  of  association,  276  ;  ol 
the  mind's  constant  activity,  334 ;  on  axioms, 
460 ;  on  innate  ideas,  501 ;  on  intuitions,  etc., 
519;  theory  of  causation,  581;  relation  to  Mill 
and  Hume,  582 ;  to  de  Biran,  do. ;  to  his  own 
doctrine  of  knowledge,  do. ;  on  substance,  621,  2 ; 
on  real  essence,  632  ;  on  primary  and  secondary 
qualities,  637. 

Logic,  its  relation  to  Psychology,  14,  15 ;  to  meta- 
physics, 14. 

Logical  relation  of  processes  and  products,  70,  1 ; 
contrasted  with  psychological,  do. ;  do  not  al- 
ways coincide,  72  ;  reasoning  technical,  465. 

Lotze,  H.,  doctrine  of  local  signs,  148. 

Maas,  theory  of  association,  280. 

Malebranche,  theory  of  sense-perception,  228 ;  of 
causation,  582-8. 

Mansel,  H.  L.,  consciousness  of  ego,  94 ;  theory  ol 
causation,  490  ;  on  negative  thinking,  65?  ;  on 
the  Infinite,  etc.,  654,  5. 

Materialism  accounted  for,  18 ;  arguments  in  favor 
of,  19-22  ;  counter-arguments,  22-26. 

Materialists,  their  views  of  psychology,  53, 

Mathematical  affections  of  matter,  Stewart's  dootriiw 
of,  638. 

Mathematical  reasoning,  456-463  ;  its  entities  < IT  con- 
cepts, 456;  resolved  into  induction,  461;  iutu 


INDEX. 


66S 


hypothetical,  do. ;  into  constitctive,  do. .  cate- 
gories, 514,  5. 

Mathematical  relations,  chapter  on,  537-569 ;  quan- 
tity, 551 ;  concepts,  two  classes  of,  551 ;  applica- 
tion to  matter,  554  ;  to  mechanics  and  chemistry, 
555  ;  to  light,  sound,  and  heat,  556 ;  to  psychi- 
cal phenomena;  arguments  for  and  against,  557  ; 
suggested  and  denned  hy  motion,  559. 

Mathematics,  rests  on  final  cause,  609;  recognize 
'imited  quantity,  561, 

Matter,  relations  of  the  soul  to,  16-40;  phenom- 
ena first  attended  to,  17  ;  prepossessions  which  it 
engenders,  18  ;  furnishes  language  for  psychical 
phenomena,  27-29. 

Matter  and  form,  in  sense-perception,  225. 

Matter  and  spirit,  united  by  thought  relations,  636  ; 
especially  by  those  of  design,  637. 

Matter,  its  capacity  to  be  perceived  not  an  attribute, 
629. 

Matter,  known  as  being,  635 ;  its  most  important  re- 
lations to  the  soul  as  sentient,  636. 

Measurement  involves  number,  544 ;  involves  both 
number  and  magnitude,  548. 

Memory  a  modification  of  representation,  254,  5 ; 
imperfect,  255 ;  chapter  on,  300-325  ;  essential  ele- 
ments in  an  act  of,  300 ;  object  must  be  recalled, 
301  ;  the  mind  perceiving  it,  do. ;  relations  of 
time,  do. ;  the  place  where,  302  ;  act  of  recogni- 
tion, do. ;  disinterested,  303 ;  admits  reasons, 
do. ;  memory  technically  defined,  303  ;  represen- 
tation and  recognition,  304  ;  spontaneous  and 
intentional,  304 ;  spontaneous  defined,  305  ;  orig- 
inal differences  in,  do. ;  relations  peculiar  to  it, 
306 ;  its  value,  do. ;  requires  the  rational  also, 
do. ;  the  intentional  memory  defined,  307 ;  rela- 
tions to  the  knowing  mind,  307  ;  recovery  of  for- 
gotten objects,  308  ;  active  element  prominent, 
do. ;  the  passive  must  be  used,  do. ;  memory  as 
the  power  to  retain,  309  ;  how  accounted  for,  309  ; 
figurative  explanations,  Gassendi's,  310 ;  ready 
ind  tenacious,  do. ;  forgetfulness,  do. ;  degrees 
of,  311 ;  is  entire  forgetfulness  possible  ?  do.  ;  for- 
gotten knowledge  recovered,  311.  2  ;  dependence 
on  the  bodily  condition,  312,  3 ;  influenced  by 
the  reason  or  the  time  of  the  day,  do. ;  sudden 
loss  of  memory,  313  ;  how  explained,  do. ;  vari- 
eties of,  314  ;  development  of,  315  ;  in  infancy, 
childhood,  and  youth,  315,  6  ;  culture  of,  316  ; 
manhood  and  old  age,  do.  ;  special  individual 
varieties,  317 ;  of  the  undisciplined,  318 ;  of 
youth  and  age,  do.  ;  man  of  universal  memory, 
319 ;  memory  of  the  ancients,  do. ;  cultivation 
of  the  memory,  320 ;  fundamental  principles, 
321 ;  Buxton's  advice,  do. ;  artificial  memory, 
322 ;  value,  objections,  do. ;  when  useful,  323 ; 
Bern's  system,  do. ;  Coleridge's  arts  of  memory, 
do.  ;  moral  conditions  of,  324. 

lietaphysics,  its  relations  to  psych.,  14-15 ;  to  logic, 
15  ;  relation  to  psychology,  499 ;  assumes  final 
cause,  607. 

Microcosm,  tb.-;  soul  a,  99. 

Middle  terms.  440  ;  invention  of,  446. 

Mill,  James,  an  associationalist,  56;  denies  con- 
•ciousne&e,  of  ego,  94  ;  admits  it,  96 ;  doctrine  of 


association,  276  ;  on  intuition,  520. 

Mill,  John  Stuart,  an  associationalist,  56 ;  joctrun 
of  necessary  truths,  57  ;  consciousness  of  ego. 
94;  doctrine  of  association,  2T6 ;  on  the  nature 
of  the  concept,  410 ;  concessions  to  realism,  425  ; 
doctrine  of  the  syllogism,  444-7  ;  of  mathe- 
matical reasoning,  461 ;  on  intuitions  and  first 
truths,  520 ;  theory  of  causation,  576 ;  relation 
to  those  of  Hume  and  Brown,  577  ;  definition 
of  the  soul,  C27 ;  definition  of  body,  error  in» 
628. 

Mind  and  matter,  chapter  on,  619-645. 

Mnemonics.    (See  Memory.) 

Morell,  J.  D.,  resolves  sensations  into  nerve-vibra* 
tions,  12ti ;  perception  into  classification,  206. 

Motion  bodily,  provision  for,  by  nature,  167,  8 ;  foi 
combined  activity,  168;  how  controlled  by  the 
intellect,  168-70;  aids  sense-perception,  201. 

Motion,  relation  of  space  and  time  concepts  to,  558 1 
universality  of,  do. ;  indicates  position  and  rest, 
5-^9 ;  suggests  time  relations,  559 ;  mathemat- 
ical quantities,  559;  the  condition  of  generaliza- 
tion, do. ;  objections,  560 ;  Trendelenburg  on,  52( 

Muller,  J.,  theory  of  nerve  endings  in  touch,  148 
theory  of  extra  organic  perception,  184;  theor1* 
of  sense  perception,  184 ;  246. 

Muscular  sense  perceptions  defined  and  divided,  136 1 
lowest  in  rank,  do.;  in  touch,  146;  first  deve]« 
oped,  181. 

Names,  significance  of,  401.    (See  Words.) 
Naming  and  names  of  concepts,  advantages  of,  aw 

sensuous,  420 ;    sign  of  a  single  element,  do. ; 

allow  addition,  421  ;   aid  rapid  thinking,  do,  t 

value  tested  by  experience,  do. 
Negative  notions,  531. 
Nerves,  reflex  action  of,  124  ;  afferent  and  efferent, 

125;  subject  to  various  affections,  125;  special 

function  in  sensation,  do. 
Nervous  system  described.  124. 
Newton,  discovery  by,  477. 
Noetic  faculty,  81. 

Nominalists,  the,  405  ;  strife  adjusted,  417. 
Nothing,  Hegel's  use  of,  529 ;  532. 
Notion.    (See  Concept.) 
Number,  how  developed,  544 ;  defined,  645 ;  relation*, 

how  symbolized,  553  ;  concepts  of,  do. ;  applica- 
tion to  magnitude,  554. 
Numerical  quantities  constructed,  359. 

Objects — object-  and  subject-,  52 ;  material  distlu 
guished  from  percepts,  192 ;  involve  two  rela« 
tions,  193;  percepts  united  in  space  and  time, 
194;  involve  substance  and  attribute,  195. 

Occam,  "William  of,  on  universals,  406. 

Organic  sense-perceptions,  137. 

Organized  beings  defined,  29. 

Original  sense-perceptions  defined,  159. 

Owen,  on  species,  426. 

Perception.    (See  Sense-perception.) 
Perception,  acquired,  122. 

Perception,  proper,  Hamilton's  doctrine  of,  129 ;  aa 
act  of  knowledge,  131 ;  in  voltes  being,  131 ;  a 


670 


INDEX. 


non^go,  131,  2;  »n  extended  non-ego,  132;  ac- 
companies every  sense,  1 33  ;  with  varying  clear- 
ness, 134 ;  in  inverse  ratio  to  sensation-proper, 
134  ;  in  different  sensations  and  senses,  134,  5  ; 
of  touch,  147-152;  defined,  147;  of  extension 
in  the  concrete,  do. ;  of  externality  in  two  senses, 
150,  1 ;  in  vision,  154 ;  extended  in  two  dimen- 
sions, 155. 

Percepts,  how  gained,  1 22  ;  how  combined,  do. ;  in 
vision,  154 ;  distinguished  from  things,  192  ;  com- 
bined into  things  by  two  stages,  193. 

Phantasy,  a  modification  of  representation,  255;  chap- 
ter on,  325-35  ;  defined,  325 ;  examples  of,  do. ; 
why  infrequent,  326  ;  fainting,  sleep,  etc.,  do.; 
several  suppositions  possible,  327  ;  why  probably 
explicable  by  laws,  327,  8 ;  depend  on  laws  of 
representation,  328  ;  unnoticed  states,  329 ;  bod- 
ily condition  influential,  do. ;  creative  power  pos- 
sible in,  do. ;  sleep  considered  physiologically, 
331;  prominent  phenomena,  331-333  ;  considered 
psychologically,  333-348  ;  somnambulism,  339- 
348 ;  insanity,  350. 

Phenomenal  and  real,  640.     (See  Real.) 

Phenomenon  defined,  51 ;  contrasted  with  being,  64. 

Philosophical  consciousness.    (See  Consciousness.) 

Physiology  defined,  6,  7 ;   assumes  final  cause,  612. 

Plato  and  the  Platonists1  view  of  life,  29-30. 

Plato,  theory  of  sense-perception,  223  ;  on  univer- 
sal#,  403  ;  on  intuitions,  518. 

Political  Science,  its  relation  to  psychology,  13. 

Porphyry's  Questions  on  universals,  405. 

Postulates,  457. 

Postulates,  nature  of,  552. 

Power  and  law  distinguished.  570. 

Powers  of  the  soul.    (See  Faculties.) 

Predicable,  392. 

Prescind,  to,  389. 

Presentation.    (See  Presentative  Knowledge.) 

Presentative  Faculty  defined  and  divided,  77  ;  exer- 
cised earliest,  do. ;  its  objects  do. ;  conditions  to 
its  exercise,  77,  8. 

Presentative  Knowledge,  Part  I.,  83-247. 

Primary  laws  of  association,  272-286. 

Primary  Qualities,  637,  8. 

Principle,  various  senses  of  the  term,  502-504. 

Probable  or  problematical  reasoning,  454,  5  ;  found- 
ed on  causes  and  laws,  455 ;  various  spheres  of, 
455. 

Proposition.    (See  Judgment.) 

Psychological  contrasted  with  logical  relations,  70. 

Psychology  defined  and  vindicated,  5-16 ;  history 
of  the  term,  do. ;  improperly  named,  do. ;  prop- 
erly a  science,  do.  ;  limited  to  the  human  soul, 
6 ;  and  to  a  class  of  inquiries,  do. ;  relations  to 
physiology  and  anthropology  6,  7 ;  its  phenom- 
ena peculiar,  7  ;  known  by  consciousness,  7,  8; 
interest  of,  8  ;  proper  objects  of  science,  8 ;  preju- 
dices against  psychology,  9  ;  value  of,  promotes 
self-knowledge,  9  ;  teaches  self-control,  10 ;  pro- 
motes moral  culture,  do. ,  aids  in  understanding 
others,  do. ;  indispensable  to  educators,  10,  11; 
especially  to  moral  teachers,  11  ,  aids  in  the 
•tudy  and  enjoyment  of  literature,  12;  in  orig- 
inal composition,  12  ;  promotes  moral  sym-  '• 


pathy  with  others,  12 ;   and  moral  thoughtful* 

ness,  13  ;  the  mother  of  all  the  human  sciences, 

13  ;  relation  to  ethics,  13 ;  to  political  and  social 
science,  13 ;  to  law,  13;  to  aesthetics,  14 ;  to  theol- 
ogy, 14 ;  special  relation  to  logic  and  metaphysics, 

14  ;  why  called  phil.  and  met.,  15  ;  disciplines  to 
method,  15, 16;  a  branch  of  physics,  16 ;  why  dis- 
trusted, 16  ;   distrust  of,  accounted  for,  17  ;    ita 
phenomena  overlooked,  18;  resolved  into  material 
agencies,  do. ;  is  it  a  science  ?  51  -60 ;  the  materi- 
als, whence  derived,  51,  2  ;  an  inductive  science, 
52  ;  also  the  science  of  induction,  52  ;  objections 
against  psychology  as  a  science,  53 ;  answers,  do. ; 
views  of  materialists,  do. ;  of  cerebralists,  54; 
views  refuted,  55  ;  phrenologists,  55,  6 ;  Associ- 
ationalists,  56-59  ;  d priori  theory,  59;  Kant  and 
Hegel,  59-60 ;  wherein  defective,  60 ;  method  of 
observing  and  interpreting  its  phenomena,  106- 
109  ;  in  what  sense  imparts  new  knowledge,  110 ; 
aided  by  language,  112  ;  misled  by  exact  termi- 
nology, 112  ;  tried  by  the  language  of  common 
life,  11,  3,  4  ;  by  the  actions,  how  it  can  interpret 
both,  114,  5 ;  why  men  are  so  positive  in  their 
theories  of,  115 ;  slow  progress  and  divisions  ex- 
plained, 115,  6 ;  special  difficulties  of  studying, 
117,  8  ;  transition  to  metaphysics,  499  ;  assumes 
final  cause,  614. 

Qualities  of  matter,  primary  and  secondary,  637-640 : 
two  and  threefold  classification,  637 ;  Aristotle's, 
Descartes',  and  Locke's,  637  ;  Eeid's,  Stewart's, 
and  Hamilton's,  638 ;  the  secundo-primary  not 
established,  639 ;  Hamilton's  locomotive  energy, 
do. ;  are  the  primary  qualities  essential  to  the 
notion  of  matter  ?  640 ;  do  they  give  real  knowl- 
edge ?  do. 

Quantity,  relations  of,  543  ;  mathematical,  551. 

Real  and  phenomenal,  640  ;  contrasted  in  two  senses, 
641  ;  Kant's  doctrine  of,  642  ;  Hamilton's,  do. ; 
their  views  criticised,  643  ;  question  not  peculiar 
to  philosophers,  do. ;  special  sense  of  real,  644 ; 
relations  of  the  intellect  trustworthy,  do. 

Real  categories,  514-516. 

Realism,  truth,  and  significance  of,  422-426  ;  assert 
permanent  relations,  324  ;  mistakes,  424,  5. 

Realists,  the,  405. 

Reason  and  consequent,  relation  of,  449. 

Reason  to,  see  Reasoning. 

Reasoning,  deductive,  chapter  on,  439-453 ;  reason- 
ing  implies  judgment,  439  ;  inductive  and  de- 
ductive, 441  ;  often  conjoined,  do. ;  an  act  of 
thought-knowledge,  442  ;  deductive,  (see  Deduc- 
tion ;)  probable,  454,  5 ;  mathematical,  454-6 ; 
formal,  454. 

Redintegration,  law  of,  277-9 ;  how  far  it  accounte 
for  the  laws  of  association,  279,  80. 

Reflection,  as  used  by  Locke,  86,  7  ;  term  explained, 
107. 

Reflective  consciousness.     (See  Consciousness.) 

Regulative  faculty,  81. 

Reid,  consciousness  of  ego,  94 ;  defective  view  of  sen* 
sation,  129;  theory  of  perceiving  externalitj 
by  toucha  150;  theory  of  sense-perception,  238 


INDEX. 


OB  the  nature  of  the  concept,  409  ;  on  axioms, 
460 ;  criticism  on  Locke ;  doctrine  of  origin  of 
knowledge,  504 ;  on  intuition  and  first  truths, 
620  ;  of  primary  and  secondary  qualities,  638. 

Halations  involved  in  knowledge,  65  ;  no  objects 
unrelated,  66;  how  far  definable,  66,  7;  rela- 
tions do  not  attract  ideas,  276 ;  of  place  in 
assoc.,  277  ;  of  time  and  of  both,  do. ;  of  simi- 
larity and  contrast,  278  ;  of  cause  and  effect, 
do. ;  of  means  and  end,  do. ;  of  association  and 
acquisition  the  same,  285  ;  general  relations  or 
principles,  (see  P. ;)  formal  relations,  chapter 
on,  527-537  ;  mathematical,  chapter  on,  537-559. 

Relative  notions,  531. 

Repetition,  in  sense-perception,  excites  interest, 
202  ;  aids  to  unite  parts  into  wholes,  203  ;  to  di- 
rect the  attention,  204  ;  to  master  very  complex 
objects,  204. 

Representation,  defined,  78 ;  its  objects,  do. ;  condi- 
tions, 79. 

Representation  and  R.  Kn.,  Part  II.,  248-376 ;  de- 
fined, 248  ;  not  limited  to  sensible  objects,  249 ; 
a  creative  power,  do. ;  appellations  for,  250,  1 ; 
objects  of,  251 ;  individual,  do. ;  in  what  sense 
the  same,  252  ;  involve  relations,  do. ;  these  re- 
lations peculiar,  252  ;  no  technical  names  for 
objects  of,  253  ;  conditions  and  laws  of,  do. ;  di- 
visions of,  254  ;  interest  and  importance  of,  257, 
8 ;  object  of,  chapter  on,  258-269 ;  why  needs  dis- 
cussion, do.  ;  three  heads  of  inquiry,  259  ;  psy- 
chical, do. ;  transient,  260 ;  not  spectrum  or  hal- 
lucination, 2GO ;  intellectual,  do.  ,-  relation  of 
object  to  its  original,  261  ;  comparable  to  no 
other,  do. ;  does  not  resemble  its  objects,  261 ; 
contradictions  involved,  262  ;  no  resemblance  in 
memory  or  recognition,  262 ;  mental  pictures 
less  exciting,  264;  consist  of  fewer  elements, 
265;  recalled  slowly  in  parts,  do. ;  objects  of 
imagination,  '266  ;  usefulness  of  representative 
objects  to  thought,  266;  less  distracting  than 
realities,  do. ;  more  easily  compared,  267 ;  and 
generalized,  do.  ;  serviceable  in  action,  268  ;  con- 
ditions and  laws  of  Rep.,  chapter  on,  269-300; 
1  association  of  ideas,  270 ;  representative  power 
unceasingly  active,  290 ;  interrupted  by  sense- 
objects,  290 ;  also  subjectively,  291. 

Representative  faculty.    (See  Representation.) 

Representative  knowledge,  63. 

Retention,  106. 

Retina,  image  on,  153  ;  when  discovered,  227. 

Richter,  J.  Paul,  on  self-consciousness,  101. 

Roscellinus,  doctrine  of  the  concept,  405. 

Roy er-Col lard,  theory  of  sense-perception,  241 ;  of 
intuition,  521. 

Bchelling  on  intuition,  518  ;  misuse  of  law  of  iden- 
tity, 536. 

Schema,  nature  and  service  of,  268. 

Bchleiermacher,  theory  of  sense-perception,  246;  on 
the  Schema,  268  ;  theory  of  math,  reasoning,  461 ; 
on  intuitions  and  the  categories,  524. 

Science,  limited  views  of,  9;  all  science  rests  on 
metaphysics,  9. 

Science,  classifications  of,  398,  9 ;  nomenclature  of, 


399;  related  to  common  knowledge  43? ;  I;  ie> 
fined,  438 ;  when  complete,  439. 

Scientific  knowledge.    (Bee  Science.) 

Secondary  laws  of  association,  286-288. 

Secondary  Qualities,  637,  8. 

Secundo-primary  qualities,  638,  9. 

Self,  the,  distinguished  from  the  ego,  101,  11C,  111. 

Sensation  proper,  defined,  128  ;  experienced  in  th* 
soul,  do. ;  connected  with  an  organism,  &».; 
Reid's  view  of,  129 ;  Berkeley's,  do. ;  Hamilton's, 
do. ;  involve  relations  of  place,  130 ;  differ  in 
kind  and  degree,  131 ;  definiteness  of  place,  do.; 
inversely  to  perception  proper,  134 ;  in  different 
sensations  and  different  senses,  134,  5  ;  of  gentle 
touch,  145 ;  acute  and  painful  of,  145  ;  of  tem- 
perature, 146  ;  of  weight,  do.  ;  muscular  in 
touch,  do.;  of  touch  localized, "147;  of  vision, 
154. 

Sensations,  subjective,  described,  125,  6. 

Sense-perception,  119-247;  conditions  and  process, 
defined,  119  ;  chapter  on,  119-135  ;  applied  to 
the  power,  act,  and  object,  do. ;  called  earliest 
into  action,  do. ;  seems  easy  to  understand,  120 ; 
why  difficult,  120 ;  what  it  is  not,  do. ;  example 
of,  in  an  orange,  120,  21 ;  what  it  is,  121 ;  sepa- 
rate percepts,  122 ;  some  indirectly  acquired, 
do.  ;  eight  topics  of  inquiry,  123  ;  conditions  of 
sense-perception,  123-126 ;  objects  or  stimuli,  1235 
bodily  organism,  123,  4;  nervous  system,  124; 
sensoiium,  do. ;  appropriate  objects  a  condition, 
125  ;  action  of  object  on  sensorium,  126  ;  pro- 
cess of  sense-perception,  126-135  ;  simplest  form 
of,  126 ;  psychical,  not  physiological,  127  ;  com- 
plex, 127  ;  names  of  elements,  127  ;  classes  of 
sense-perceptions,  chapter  on,  135-158;  three 
named,  135;  muscular,  136;  organic,  137;  spe- 
cial, 137;  smell,  138;  taste,  139,  140;  hearing, 
140-143,  q.  v.;  touch,  143-152,  q.  v.  ;  sight,  137- 
151,  q.  v.  ;  acquired  sense-perceptions,  chapter 
on,  158-177  ;  development  and  growth  of,  chap- 
ter on,  178-192;  interest  of  the  problem,  178; 
perplexing  to  the  imagination,  179;  data  for 
solving  it,  179,  80 ;  products  of,  chapter  on,  192- 
209 ;  conditions  of  perception  of  things,  199 , 
energy  by  contrast,  etc.,  200  ;  motion,  201 ;  re- 
petition, 201 ;  need  of,  explained,  202-205  ;  fa- 
miliarity, 205 ;  repetition  not  recognition,  206; 
continuance  of  time,  do.  ;  activity  of  the  soul 
in,  chapter  on,  210-220  ;  why  held  to  be  passive, 
210  ;  summary  and  review  of  theory  of,  219,  20 ; 
theories  of,  chapter  on,  221-247. 

Sensorium  described,  124,  5;  known  as  extended, 
149. 

Sensory.    (See  Sensoiium.) 

Sight,  sense  of,  152-158;  organ  of,  152,  3;  conditions 
of,  153  ;  image  on  the  retina,  function  of,  do. , 
single  vision  with  two  eyes,  156;  double  vision, 
do. ;  place  of  the  object  as  originally  seen,  167  , 
dignity  of  vision,  157,  8  ;  acquired  perceptions 
of,  161,  sqq. ;  why  and  how  its  percepts  are  pro- 
jected in  space,  186-188 ;  percepts  of,  combined 
with  those  of  touch,  188,  9. 

Simple  notions,  395. 

Sleep.    (See  Phantasy.) 


672 


INDEX. 


Smell,  sense-perceptions  of,  do.  ;  organs,  138  ;  ac- 
quired perceptions  of,  160. 
Socrates,  on  universals,  403. 

Somnambulism,  three  species  of,  339;  whence  the 
name,  do. ;  natural,  do. ;  examples  of,  do. ;  ac- 
tivities required  in,  340  ;  magnetic,  do,  ;  how 
distinguished,  do. /  shown  to  be  morbid,  do.  ; 
represents  tion  in  excess,  do. ;  also  some  sense- 
perceptions,  341 ;  acute  but  limited,  342 ;  the 
sense-organs  used,  do.  ;  extraordinary  intellec- 
tual activities,  3-14  ;  state  usually  forgotten,  845  ; 
when  remembered,  346 ;  alternate  states,  do. ; 
artificial  somnambulism,  346 ;  hypnotism,  347  ; 
relation  to  somnambulism,  do.  ;  control  of  one 
mind  by  another,  347,  8  ;  higher  claims,  348. 

Soul,  the,  signification  of  the  term,  6 ;  original  desig- 
nation, do.  ;  secondary  meanings,  do.  ;  rela- 
tions of,  to  matter,  1 7-29 ;  phenomena  of,  resolved 
into  matter,  17  ;  phenomena  at  first  overlooked, 
17 ;  arguments  for  the  material  structure  of, 
19-22  ;  for  its  spiritual  essence,  22-26  ;  its  phe- 
nomena real,  26  ;  cannot  be  judged  by  material 
analogies,  26,  27  ;  described  in  language  of 
physical  origin,  27  ;  consequent  dangers,  28,  29 ; 
relations  to  life  and  living  beings,  29-40 ;  spe- 
cial discussion  of,  36-40  ;  history  of  opinions 
concerning,  36  ;  arguments  of  unity  of  the  soul 
with  the  principle  of  life,  36-38  ;  objections,  38- 
40 ;  faculties  of,  (see  Faculties ;)  unity  of,  higher 
than  any  other,  46, 7  ;  does  not  exclude  complex- 
ness,  48 ;  powers  of  the  soul  threefold,  49  ;  as 
conscious,  *  microcosm,  99 ;  sentient  and  per- 
cipient, 13a  state  before  sense-perception  be- 
gins, 180. 

Sounds,  sense-perceptions  of,  143. 

Space,  a  condition  of  imagination,  352 ;  void,  how  first 
known,  538 ;  inclosed  and  inclosing  space,  do. ; 
these  relations  analyzed,  539 ;  objects  as  imaged, 
545  ;  relation  to  motion,  558 ;  as  infinite,  562 ; 
in  what  eense  unlimited,  564 ;  cannot  be  gener- 
alized, 565 ;  nor  defined,  do. ;  known  by  intu- 
ition, 566  ;  correlate  of  the  extended,  do. ;  not  a 
substance,  567  ;  nor  a  quality,  do. ;  nor  a  rela- 
tion or  correlation,  do.  ;  nor  a  form,  568  ;  in 
what  sense  knowable,  do. ;  conclusion  respect- 
ing, 569. 

Space  and  Time,  chapter  on,  537-569 ;  objects  gener- 
alized, 550 ;  their  relations  individual  and  gen- 
eral, do. ;  relations  to  motion,  558. 

Species,  scholastic  doctrine  of,  225 ;  nature  and  per- 
manence of,  426. 

Spectra,  260  ;  349,  50. 

Speculative  or  critical  stage  of  knowledge,  498. 

Spencer,  Herbert,  an  associationalist,  56  ;  doctrine  of 
consciousness,  89  ;  resolves  perception  into  recog- 
nition, 206  ;  on  the  concept,  411 ;  on  the  knowl- 
edge of  the  Infinite,  656  ;  on  creation,  659. 

Spir.oza's  views  similar  to  those  of  Hegel,  532  ;  defi- 
nition of  substance,  632. 

Spirit,  original  meaning  of,  6. 

Standards  of  space  and  time,  548,  9. 

States  of  the  soul  defined,  51 

Stereoscope,  invalid  inference  from,  156. 

Stewart,  Dugald,  consciousness  of  ego,  94 ;  theory  of 


attention,  207 ;  theory  of  sense-perception,  2Ji 
on  dreams,  339;  explanation  of  latent  modifies* 
tions  of  consciousness,  289  ;  on  the  nature  of  th« 
concept,  400  ;  on  geom.  axioms,  450  ;  en  math, 
reasoning,  461 ;  on  primary  and  secondary  quaU 
ities,  638. 

Studies,  natural  order  of,  74,  5. 

Subject-objects,  62. 

Substance  and  Attribute,  relation  of,  195;  appre- 
hended later,  197  ;  supposes  reflex  knowledge, 
do.;  denied  to  sense  by  Kant,  198 ;  supposed  in 
the  concept,  390;  not  discerned  by  sense,  do.; 
category  of,  533;  chapter  on,  619-645 ;  import  of 
the  terms,  620  ;  etymology  of,  620,  1 ;  different 
theories  of,  621,  2  ;  Locke  on,  621  ;  Hume,  Reid, 
Kant,  Whewell,  621. 

Suhstance  represented  by  touch-percepts,  198 ; 
distinguished  from  logical  and  grammatical 
subject,  620;  etymology  of,  do.,-  in  the  ab- 
stract, 622 ;  three  classes  of,  624  ;  spiritual 
substance,  do. ;  distinguished  by  attributes  oi 
causation  and  design,  625,  6  ;  spiritual  and  hu- 
man defined,  626 ;  J.  S.  Mill's  definition,  627  ; 
material  defined,  do. ;  related  to  space  in  a  two- 
fold way,  627,  8 ;  power  to  affect  the  senses,  628  ; 
matter  not  causative  of  perception,  628,  9 ;  Mill, 
Brown,  and  Kant  on,  do. ;  permanently  occu« 
pies  space,  630  ;  not  self-subsistent,  G32  ;  Spino- 
za's error  and  definition,  do.  ;  "Whewell's,  633  • 
belief  in  permanence  founded  in  design,  633; 
relations  of  material  and  spiritual,  634. 

Syllogism  and  Deduction,  chapter  on,  439-453  ;  part* 
of,  444 ;  the  power  of  deduction,  do.  ;  possible 
changes  in,  445;  problem  of,  do.  ;  does  not  rest 
on  the  dictum  de  ornni  et  nullo,  448  ;  not  apetitio 
principii,  do.  ;  not  identical  with  induction,  do. ; 
explained  by  relation  of  reason  to  consequent, 
449  ;  this  by  causation  or  its  equivalent,  450; 
sanctioned  by  Aristotle  and  Leibnitz,  451 ;  ap- 
plied to  mathematical  and  pure  deduction,  451, 
2,  3  ;  immediate  syllogisms,  463,  4. 

Symbolic  Knowledge,  426-430  ;  can  the  infinite  and 
spiritual  be  symbolized  ?  429,  30. 

Synthesis,  involved  in  knowledge,  67. 

System,  400 ;  relations  in  knowledge,  do. ,-  chapter  on, 
494-495 ;  any  arrangement  of  content  or  extent, 
495 ;  of  both  united,  do. ;  of  propositions  of 
either,  or  both,  do. ;  of  less  obvious  concepts, 
498,  6  ;  in  science,  496 ;  of  abstracta,  do. ;  of  cate- 
gories, do. 

Systemization.    (See  System.) 

Taste,  sense-perceptions  of,  139-140  ;  variety,  nam« 
of,  139 ;  gratifications,  objective  relations,  140. 

Tennyson,  on  self-consciousness,  101. 

Terminology,  completeness  of,  no  test  of  truth,  112. 

Themistius,  illustration  of  association,  276. 

Theology,  relations  to  psychology,  14 ;  relations  tc 
final  cause,  616. 

Theories  of  nature  of  concepts  and  universals,  (se« 
Concept) ; — of  sense  perception,  chapter  on,  221- 
246 ;  universal,  22 ! ;  reflex  influence  mischievous, 
do. ;  liable  to  be  erroneous,  do. ;  pertain  chiefly 
to  vision,  222  ;  of  the  earlier  Greek  philosopher^ 


INDEX. 


673 


<to.;  Dbgems  of  Ap.  do.',  fleraclitus  and  Em- 
pedoclos,  dc  ;  Democritus,  223  ;  the  Socratic 
school,  do.  ;  Plato,  do.  ;  Aristotle,  224 ;  the 
schoolmen,  22o  ;  Gassendi,  226  ;  Descartes,  do.  ; 
Geulincx,  228 ;  Malebranche,  228  ;  Arnauld,  229  ; 
Locke,  230  ;  Berkeley,  232,  3  ;  Hume,  232 ;  Reid, 
283  ;  Stewart,  234  ;  Brown,  235  ;  Hamilton,  236  ; 
Condillac,  240 ;  Laromiguiere,  241  ;  ftoycr-Col- 
lard,  do.  ;  Maine  de  Biran,  242 ;  Leibnitz,  243  ; 
Tetens,  244  ;  Kant,  245  ;  Herbart,  do. ;  Schleier- 
macher,  246  ;  Muller,  do. 

living  in,  itself,  explained,  632  ;  Kant's  doctrine  of. 
(See  Kant.) 

Thinking.     (See  Thought.) 

Thomas  Aquinas,  on  universals,  406. 

Thought,  and  Thought-knowledge,  Part  III.,  377- 
496  ;  terms  variously  applied,  377  ;  relation  to 
higher  knowledge,  do.  ;  dignity  of,  378  ;  illustra- 
ted by  an  example,  378,  9  ;  thought  defined,  380 ; 
products  of,  do.  ;  use  of  term  justified,  do.  ;  ap- 
pellations for  the  power,  381 ;  forms  of,  383 ;  rela- 
tion to  lower  powers,  do. ;  when  does  it  begin  ? 
384  ;  abstract  and  concrete,  do.  ;  by  whom  each 
performed,  385 ;  difficulty  of  abstract,  do.;  re- 
lation to  experience,  386  ;  to  language,  386,  7  ; 
relation  to  intuition,  402. 

Thought,  faculty  of,  defined,  79 ;  its  objects,  79,  80  ; 
its  conditions,  80  ;  how  far  prepared  l>y  thought 
itself,  do. ;  certain  intuitions  assumed  in,  80,  81 ; 
two  aspects  of,  81  ;  analysis  of,  involves  two  gen- 
eral inquiries,  81,  2. 

lime  and  Space,  relations  of,  chapter  on,  527-559 ; 
estimates  of,  548  ;  objects  generalized,  550.  (See 
T.  &  8.) 

Tune,  a  condition  of  imagination,  352  ;  objects  as 
imaged,  54i> ;  measure  of,  547  ;  estimates  of,  548  ; 
relation  to  motion,  558  ;  time-relations  general- 
ized and  suggested  by  motion,  559  ;  as  infinite, 
562 ;  in  what  sense  unlimited,  564 ;  cannot  be 
generalized,  565  ;  nor  defined,  do. ;  is  known  by 
intuition,  566  ;  correlate  of  the  enduring,  do. ; 
not  a  substance,  567 ;  nor  a  quality,  do. ;  nor  a 
relation  or  correlation,  do.  ;  nor  a  form,  568 ;  in 
what  sense  knowable.  do. ;  conclusion  respect- 
Leg,  569;  does  not  explain  causation,  578. 

43 


Touch,  sense  of,  143-152 ;  organ,  143  ;  conditions  of, 
144 ;  variety  of  sensations,  145 ;  gentle  touch, 
do. ;  involving  violence,  do.  ;  of  temperature, 
146 ;  of  pressure,  146  ;  muscular,  do. ;  perception 
proper  of,  147  ;  of  extension,  do. ;  conditions  and 
act,  148 ;  of  extension  direct,  not  indirect,  do. ; 
perception  of  externality  in  two  senses,  149,  50  s 
of  the  body  to  the  soul,  150  ;  of  one  body  to  an- 
other, 151 ;  the  leading  sense,  151 ;  called  gen 
eral  sensibility,  152  ;  furnishes  terms  for  thl 
intellect,  do. ;  percepts  of,  combined  with  those 
of  sight,  188,  9. 

Trendelenburg,  doctrine  of  motion,  561 ;  views  ol 
the  categories,  526. 

Unconditioned  (see  Infinite),  primary  and  secondary 
sense  of,  649. 

Universal,  292 ;  theories  of,  nature  of.  (See  Con- 
cept.) 

Universe,  the  finite,  how  conceived,  646. 

Unorganized  beings,  defined,  29. 

Vibrations  of  nerves  supposed  to  account  for  sensa* 
tion,  126. 

Vision.    (See  Sight.) 

Vital  Power,  various  appellations  for,  by  Blumen- 
bach  and  others,  SO ;  arguments  in  favor  of,  30- 
33  ;  counter  arguments,  33-36 ;  defined  by  Car- 
penter and  others,  33  ;  Carpenter's  illustration 
against,  33  ;  inexplicable  by  special  combina- 
tions of  mechanical  and  chemical  forces,  34;  by 
organization,  35  ;  by  creative  power,  35  ;  admits 
decay,  35  ;  is  individual,  35-36. 

"Weber,  E.  H.,  experiments  on  touch,  144. 

Whately,  on  the  syllogism,  449. 

Whewell,  views  of  substance,  622  ;  erroneous  defi- 
nition of,  633. 

William  of  Champeaux,  doctrine  of  universals,  406. 

Wolf,  on  causation,  588. 

"Worcester,  Marquis  of,  discovery  of  steam,  490. 

"Words,  importance  for  definition,  427  ;  no  substitute 
for  intuition,  428 ;  operate  by  suggestion,  do. 

Xenopli&jes'  views  similar  to  those  of  Hegel,  532. 


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